Disclaimer: Not mine.
Author's Notes: Thanks to Jedisapphire for the beta.
Summary: Dean had no idea how a stop at a pub would effect Sam's and his life.
"There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness, but of power.
They are messengers of overwhelming grief and of unspeakable love."
-Washington irving
o0o
Dean knew he had to check it out. But he still was pissed about the case being a bust and the trip a waste of time. What lifted his spirits was catching a billboard telling him a pub called Patrick's Place, was only an exit away. So he decided to take a break from the long drive home, and have a drink.
The pub was impressive, not only in its size and layout but in it's warm decor, with clusters of small white lights and photographs decorating it's autumn colored walls.
With the place just starting to pick up at this early evening hour. Dean took a seat at the bar and ordered himself a drink.
There was something about the tall older gentleman who tended bar that struck him as familiar, but he couldn't put his finger on what, so he shrugged it off and helped himself to the nearby bowl of pretzels.
He missed Sam, but his brother needed to stay off that busted leg of his a little while longer. It needed to heal properly and overusing it would set that process back.
Dean smiled recalling the bitch face Sam gave him, when told he wasn't allowed to come, and the outrage accompanied by his signature huffing and puffing at being treated like a child.
"Something funny I missed?" The bartender asked, placing the drink down in front of him.
Dean's grin widened, "My brother, when he's mad."
"Younger?" The bartender inquired.
"Yes."
"We do tease them unmercifully don't we? But God help anyone who looks at them the wrong way."
"Dam straight!"
"By the way, I'm Dean."
"Patrick."
"Patrick, like in Patrick's Place?"
"One in the same."
"So I take it Patrick you have a younger brother?"
"I do," he answered affectionately pointing out a photo of his brother behind him. "This is Johnny, younger here of course. Five years my junior. Looked after him since he was a baby."
"Mine is Four years younger," Dean's eyes warmed. "With our Dad working a lot. I pretty much raised him."
"You miss those days," Patrick questioned, with a hint of sadness. "When they were small and you were their world?"
"Sometimes," Dean admitted, polishing off the rest of the pretzels.
"Here let me refill that bowl for you young man," Patrick offered, reaching for a bag under the counter.
"Haven't been called that in a while," Dean chuckled.
"What's that?"
"Young."
"Well, you are!"
"Guess so, " Dean mused, not feeling it after being told by a beautiful woman he had a Dad bod. "So this is all yours?" he asked.
"Yes, for twenty years now. My Grandfather left it to me. It's been my saving grace you could say."
"Bet that's a story in itself."
"One for when I've had a lot more to drink."
"I hear you," Dean said, looking around. "You have something really nice here. Especially this," Dean motioned to the wall behind the bar full of photographs. Then to the other walls decorated with them too.
Patrick acknowledged the compliment with a thank you and a smile. His kind manner and warm blue eyes, again telling Dean he knew this guy.
"Guess you could say that's my life on these walls the past couple decades, in particular the wall behind me. The celebrations, holidays, the friends I've made, and the regulars who like to come in and shoot the breeze, watch a game, or talk about what's on their mind."
"A bartender who listens," Dean said impressed. "I didn't think they existed anymore."
"Hey, we're all in this together and life isn't always easy."
"No, its not," Dean agreed, getting up to take a closer look at the collection on the wall, moving behind the bar with Patrick's urging.
"I always liked looking at pictures," Dean said. "Guess because its the thing families do and my brother and I have so few."
"It's never too late to start." Patrick pointed out.
"Yeah," Dean laughed. "I can just see Sam and me taking selfies."
"Your brother's name is Sam?"
"Yes. Well, he'll always be Sammy to me."
"This looks like fun. Was this someone's bachelor party?" Dean laughed, glancing over at Patrick.
"What is it? " Dean asked. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
"I just might have," Patrick answered visibly shaken. "I need to ask you something."
"Okay," Dean agreed, not sure what to think.
"Do you know this man?" Patrick pushed aside a newspaper clipping to reveal the rest of a partially hidden photo.
Dean's eyes widened. "You knew John Winchester?" he asked, not able to take his eyes off the picture of his Dad.
"I did," Patrick confirmed it. "You're John's oldest boy aren't you?"
"Yes. How did you know my Dad?"
"I helped him out from time to time," Patrick explained. "He was a good man. I was sorry to hear of his passing."
"You're a hunter aren't you Patrick? I thought there was something familiar about you when I walked in."
"I was a hunter, a lifetime ago. I worked a few jobs with your Dad when he was new to hunting. Helped show him the ropes so to say. The next time we crossed paths I had just retired, and that was when he first introduced me to his boys. You were in your teens and Sam just a little wisp of a kid.
"Wisp, not a word you'd put together with Sam, not anymore. He's taller than me now."
"Little Sammy," Patrick recalled fondly. "It's hard to picture him grown up."
"Oh he's grown up and then some."
"Patrick, I only remember seeing you a couple of times."
"Shortly after we met, you left for a boy's home. I watched Sam while your Dad hunted."
"Sonny's"
"Yes, I thought John was hard on you and told him so."
"You sound like my brother."
"Tell me about Sam."
"If you tell me about my Dad."
"Deal. How about some food to go with that chat?"
"Now you're talking!" Dean declared.
o0o
Patrick had someone take over bar duty and he and Dean grabbed themselves a booth. Where they spent the next couple of hours talking about John and hunting with him, but mainly their roles as big brothers and surrogate Father's, to Sam and Johnny.
It was a visit to the past and in many ways Patrick still lived there in this seemingly safe haven, tucked away in this small town. However he wasn't totally unaware of what was going on outside it. But being out of the hunting life for so long he had no idea how heavily involved Sam and Dean had been with all the end of the world events and Dean felt it best to keep it that way. For now anyway.
"Where do you put all that food?" Patrick asked, with warm smiling eyes.
"Oh I find the room when its good and these chicken fingers and fries are the best. What Sam is missing!"
"You were a real wise ass," Patrick recalled teenage Dean. "But you sure did take good care of Sam. Sounds like you still do."
"I do my best," Dean answered. "He's my brother, my only family, and I love him till it hurts."
o0o
"What is your brother doing now?" Dean asked. "You haven't talked about present day Johnny at all."
"I haven't been completely honest with you," Patrick confessed.
"How so?"
"My brother is dead."
"What?" I don't understand. Why didn't..."
"I tell you?" Patrick finished his thought. "I just wanted to talk about Johnny like he was still here. The way I used to. He's my boy," Patrick teared up. "I'm sorry for the deception."
"Don't be," Dean told him. "If it helped, I'm glad."
"I didn't retire from hunting," Patrick explained further. "I just couldn't do it anymore after I lost my brother. I'd help with research or put up hunters at my place, anything but actually hunt. It was hard enough to just keep breathing. What I really wanted to do was to put a gun in my mouth and end the pain of living without my brother. What stopped me was knowing how much it would hurt him if I did."
"My Johnny had such faith. He always told me if one of us died not to do anything stupid because we'd be together again. He said it as if it were fact. So that's what I hang onto. In the mean time I go on living. This place keeps me busy and I have some good people in my life. But what I wouldn't give Dean, to just hear my brother's voice again. It's funny what you miss. Sometimes I swear I hear Johnny calling me. I was always Patty to him."
"I'm so sorry Patrick. I can't even...," Dean didn't want to imagine, not ever, so he blocked out what he knew would undo him, and kept talking. "Was it not hunting anymore that separated you and my Dad. You seemed pretty fond of my brother."
"I love that kid. But that turned out to be part of why your Dad and me parted ways. It's complicated. You see Sam became my biggest source of comfort after losing Johnny. I loved spending time with him and I believe he did with me too. But I don't think your Dad was crazy about it. He was a hunter in training and I was a hindrance."
"How?"
"Because I was a lot like Sam, a nerd and reluctant hunter at first. I loved reading and talking about books with Sam and hearing about what he was learning in school , but anything outside of hunting, John well."
"My Dad saw it as a waste of time."
"Pretty much."
"It was starting to cause friction and I didn't want to be the cause of that. So I helped your Dad out a few more weekends with keeping an eye on Sam while he hunted. Then knowing you'd be coming home soon. I decided it was time for me to move on."
"How did Sam take it?"
"He didn't understand, I mean how could he? But when it came time for me to actually leave Sam told me he did understand. He just didn't want me to go. But I could see something else was bothering him and when I asked what was wrong. He started to cry, telling me he was afraid that I'd forget him. If that kid only knew how impossible that was."
"What did you do?" Dean questioned, finding himself in big brother mode, wanting to know.
"I told Sam I could never forget him, and when he asked how I could be so sure. I took his hand and placed it on my heart and told him because he was here and always would be."
o0o
Patrick took a moment before telling Dean how his brother died. You could see even after a couple of decades it still was difficult for him."
"You know how as hunters we often leave messes? Even if we do our very best not to."
"Sure do," Dean nodded. "It goes with the territory."
"Johnny and I were asked to help clean out a nest of Vamps in Virginia. The two hunters on that job felt the situation was too out of control for them to handle on their own. It was a large nest and they seemed to be in a feeding frenzy. The attacks in town were on the rise and so was the body count."
"The four of us managed to take care of that nest and we were sure we got all the vamps. Johnny and I even hung around a couple of days to make sure and we checked and double checked. We were about half way home when we got word that a family had been attacked by a lone vamp, and a young woman had been killed. We turned around and took care of that vamp, but the husband and father of the woman killed blamed us, and swore we'd pay for it. They had every right to be angry."
"The four of you did the best you could Patrick," Dean said in support and understanding from experience.
"I know we did Dean. But our best as hunters often isn't enough."
"I know," Dean agreed. "And it sucks."
"The hunting team that called us in tried talking to the family. But phrases like "we did our best" or "everything we could " fall short when you're talking to someone who lost a family member."
"After a couple of months went by, we started to think their threats of revenge were out of anger and grief. But it wasn't long after they made good on that promise. They tracked us to a job we were working and followed us, waiting for the best opportunity to come up. They found that late one night at a gas station we stopped at, after we wrapped that job and were on our way home."
"While I went inside to pay for the gas, they went after Johnny who had gone to use the restroom around the side of the building. They jumped him when he came out, cut him up really bad, and then waited for me."
"My brother was gone when I found him Dean. Then they jumped me and the next thing I remember is waking up in the hospital being told by some doctor how lucky I was to be alive."
o0o
Dean knocked lightly on his brother's door, hoping he might be awake after noticing a light on in the room.
But he found Sam asleep, an open book lying across his chest.
"Wake up soon Sammy," he said, gently taking the book and placing it on the night stand.
Not able to shake relating to Patrick's heartbreaking loss and the anguish of never hearing his brother's voice again. Dean pulled up a chair and sat there watching his little brother sleep.
"I really need to talk to you Sammy. To hear your voice. But I guess this is even too early for you to be up. So I'll just sit here and wait."
o0o
Dean awoke startled to find he'd fallen asleep in his brother's room.
"Good morning sunshine!" Sam smiled, seated across from him on the bed.
"Hey, " Dean's eyes warmed at the sight of his brother. "It's good to hear your voice," he blurted out.
"What?" Sam gave him a questioning look.
"I mean it's good to be home. How's the leg doing ?"
"The leg's good. Everything okay with you Dean?"
"Yeah, why?"
"You were sleeping in my room, in a chair?"
"I didn't mean too. It's just..."
"Did something happen on the way home? Or at that bar you were going to stop at?"
"No. Well, yes."
"Which one is it Dean?" Sam looked at him not sure whether to be amused or concerned.
"Yes, something happened but nothing is wrong," Dean assured Sam, moving to sit beside him, being careful of his leg.
"I met someone that Dad knew at that bar," Dean disclosed, brushing the hair out of his brother's face with gentle fingers.
"Who?" Sam asked, "Tell me, and tell me what's going on with you. Dean's open affection starting to alarm him.
"I will Sammy, I promise. Just give me a minute, okay?" Dean spoke softly, studying his brother's face, tucking the hair behind his ears. Then he did what he had wanted to do since he got home, he wrapped Sam in his arms and held him tight. Sam following suit, embraced his brother too.
Dean tried not to cry, but he lost that battle, momentarily, when he allowed himself to feel what Patrick had lost and what he had in his arms right now. He tried wiping away the evidence but not before his brother caught on.
"Dean! What is it?" Sam pulled back, grasping his brother's shoulders, getting a good look at his face. "You're crying?"
"No, I'm not," Dean argued. "I just didn't get much sleep and I'm starving."
"Dean," Sam spoke, soothingly , knowing differently. But he let it go for now. "Tell me about this guy Dad knew."
"You knew him too Sammy."
"I did?" Sam said, surprised.
"Yes," Dean stood, motioning to Sam. "Come on, lets get something to eat and I'll tell you about him."
"Didn't you stuff yourself with junk food on the drive home?"
"Yeah, and your point?"
"Okay," Sam smiled, affectionately, grabbing his crutches. "Let's eat."
o0o
"Wow!" Sam remarked, stepping into the hallway. "It smells great out here. So wait, you made breakfast before you conked out in my chair?"
"Oh Sammy with the questions."
"It's just that...," Sam's arm came up fast blocking Dean from stepping into the kitchen. "Hey, who are you?" he shouted at the stranger, whose back was turned to them.
"Just an old friend making breakfast," the stranger answered, turning around. "Hi Sam."
"Patty?" Sam stared, wide eyed in disbelief.
"Yes, its me," Patrick answered teary-eyed."Didn't know if you'd remember me or recognize me after all these years."
A stunned Sam looked at Dean, whose smile and knowing eyes said this was the man he'd met in the bar.
Sam took a few steps closer to Patrick using his crutches , then he leaned them against the table. "I could never forget you Patty. Its so good to see you."
Patrick crossed the remaining distance between them, and grabbing hold of Sam, he hugged him tightly, not hiding the tears.
"Hey," Patrick said, gently letting go of Sam, and quickly wiping his face. "Lets get you in a seat and off that leg."
He pulled out a chair, helping to guide Sam into it. "Sit Dean and I'll get you both some breakfast. Then we can catch up."
"You don't have to wait on us Patty," Sam said, tugging on Patrick's shirt sleeve. "Just sit down and talk to me."
Dean couldn't miss the deep affectionate between them and how after all these years it had remained unchanged.
"Sam's right," Dean backed his brother up. "You do enough waiting on people at your bar."
"I love what I do, its not work for me. Now you two don't want to take away an old man's enjoyment now do you?"
Dean and Sam looked at each other and nodded they didn't.
"Good," Patrick smiled, stopping a moment to cup Sam's face. "I can't believe it, look at you, my Sam all grown up."
Dean helped Patrick with getting breakfast on the table and soon they were all seated, each with a plate full of eggs, toast, bacon and pancakes. A glass of orange juice and a full steaming cup of coffee at each setting too. Breakfast was ready.
"Before we dive in can we say a few words?" Patrick asked.
"A breakfast prayer," Dean rolled his eyes.
"Dean!" Sam gave him a stern look.
"Sam, its okay I get it," Patrick assured him. "Honestly this has more to do with my brother's beliefs then mine."
"Your brother?" Sam looked at him surprised. " I never knew you had one."
"We have a lot to catch up on and there's so much Sam I want to share with you. But first would you say a few words. I remember how you prayed every day."
"I still do," Sam told him.
"Put in a good word for me then," Patrick said light-heartedly.
"I always have," Sam said softly.
"What?"
"Every day I pray, I pray for you Patrick and for Dean too. Him, I throw in a few extra prayers."
"Hey," Dean punched Sam playfully. But it wasn't hard to see how moved Dean was by this, as was Patrick.
After saying a short prayer, and Sam giving thanks for the meal and Patrick being back into their lives, they got down to eating.
They chatted as they ate, more on the lighter topics, until they were close to being done and sipping on the last of their coffee.
"Tell me about your brother Patty. What's his name?" Sam asked curiously.
"His name was Johnny."
"Was?"
"My brother's been gone for over twenty years now Sam."
"I'm so sorry Patty," Sam placed a hand on his arm in comfort.
"I'd still love to hear about him if its okay?"
"It's more than okay," Patrick smiled, patting Sam's hand.
"Johnny, he was a smart, good hearted kid. Full of energy and funny and like you Sam he never let go of his faith. Where as I'm more in line with Dean's thinking. I'd like to know where the hell God's been with all the pain and suffering in this world. Most of it caused by his own, the Angels."
Patrick talked a while longer about his brother's life. Then he told the story of how he lost him. Sam looking as heartbroken as Dean felt putting himself in Patrick's shoes. Sam understanding now why Dean had acted the way he did earlier.
o0o
"Thank you Dean for making that decision to stop at my pub," Patrick said shaking his hand. "It made this possible."
"I'll never forget Sam's face when he first saw you," Dean told him. "That alone made it worth it. You mean a lot to him."
"Sam means a lot to me too."
"I know. I also wanted you to know. Its not everyone who gets the Dean Winchester seal of approval when it comes to my little brother."
"Oh so I did okay?"
"You did more than okay. You're a good guy."
"Thanks. That's good to hear," Patrick paused a moment before asking. "What happens if someone flunks this test?"
"They die a painful death," Dean answered, eerily calm.
"What?" Patrick asked, wide eyed.
"Just kidding," Dean smiled, patting his shoulder. "Joking, humor, high time, hilarity."
"I get it," Patrick laughed, but he got the feeling Dean wasn't completely kidding, that there was an ounce of truth in what he said.
o0o
Patrick reluctantly left, his pub needing its owner and there being a long ride ahead of him. But before he did, he made Sam promise to keep in touch. That if he ever needed anything to call and knowing both boys still hunted to be safe. Sam and Dean, still believing it was for the best not to tell Patrick about Amara or how heavily involved they were in trying to stop her. Yet both boys sensing Patrick knew they were holding back but respecting that, trusting that if they ever needed his help, they'd ask.
o0o
Back to doing their research, the boys sat at the Library table, trying to find any possible clue on how to stop Amara.
"It's funny isn't it?" Dean said, after a long quiet moment.
"What is?" Sam questioned, looking up from his laptop.
"That when you and I had to be apart those months, as kids, that someone pretty special showed up in each of our lives."
"Yeah, and exactly when we each needed someone too," Sam agreed. "I'd like to think a higher power played a hand in it," he added.
"Even after God was a no show again with Lucifer?" Dean asked.
"I was the fool thinking God was trying to help me."
"Hey, you can be a royal pain in my ass sometimes. But a fool you are not Sam Winchester. That you can still have faith, after everything, in people, in God, its a good thing. You hear me."
"Thanks," Sam smiled shyly.
"You're welcome," Dean returned the smile. "Now if I didn't know what freaking Dicks the Angels are, I'd swear they had a hand in putting Sonny and Patrick in our lives. But we know that's not the case."
"Dean, I think we both know who did," Sam exchanged a knowing look with his brother.
"Mom," They spoke in unison.
"Dean, do you think after we stop Amara or maybe the next time you, I mean we, need to stretch our legs. We could visit Patrick?'"
"It's where I was thinking of heading."
"Really? Why?"
"Because it makes you happy and any day I can do that is a good day."
Sam, at a loss for words, acknowledged his appreciation with a nod and eyes that spoke volumes. "Beer?' he managed to say, standing up.
"Sounds good, " Dean answered, already antsy in his seat, trying to concentrate on the old book he had started , not realizing Sam had managed to made his way around the table.
Now standing behind Dean's chair, Sam wrapped his arms around his big brother, hugging him tightly.
"Hey," Dean chuckled, placing his hands on Sam's arms which were crisscrossed over his chest. "What's this all about?"
Sam lifted his head from Dean's shoulder where he had buried it. " I just wanted to thank you for being my big brother."
This time it was Dean, emotional and at a loss for words. But then he remembered something Patrick had told him. "Don't move Sammy," he said reaching for his cell on the table.
"Are you serious Dean? A selfie?"
"Shut up and smile Sam," Dean said, snapping the picture. Patrick was right, it's never too late to start. This was to be the first of many family photos Dean would put on the bunker wall.