Songs and lyrics mentioned in this chapter that I do not own-
Home, by Phillip Phillips
Fade Into You, by Mazzy Star
Simple Man, Shinedown's version is my favorite :)
Chapter 1. Military Rest
Dean twisted the bottle of beer between his thumb and index finger, rolling it back and forth on the bar. The Roadhouse had become his regular hang out since he had been stationed at Fort Benning 2 years ago. He had moved to Benning with some pretty high hopes. His bottle-green eyes lingered along the edge of the label on his bottle. None of that had worked. Lisa had moved there after 6 months of him practically begging her to come. They lasted 6 months. He thought they would get married. He really did. The whole white-fucking fence, dog, kid, whatever.
Dean took a long drawl from his beer, emptying it. He sat it on the bar and caught Ellen's eye, nodding to her. She nodded back and brought him a beer. The place was packed, as usual. The Roadhouse was the best bar in Columbus, Georgia. You had to get off post to relax. This was just the next town over and catered to Army without it feeling like you were on post. It was crowded 7 days a week. The main bar was in the center, usually taking 2 bartenders to run, with tables off to the right side and three pool tables toward the back. The other side held more tables and a small stage where locals performed on weekends and Tuesday nights. Ellen, the owner, was quite the character. She took no shit from soldiers, but let them have some breathing room at the same time. She was pissed beyond belief when her own daughter enlisted. Dean had the pleasure (huh) of having Ellen's daughter, Jo, in his unit. Dean kept a special watch on her without Jo knowing it. She was tough, like her mom. But Ellen took good care of him, since he took good care of her baby. Honestly, Jo was one of his favorites. And yeah, he had favorites. Ellen had been angry as a mama bear when Jo had enlisted. She blamed herself for bringing her up around all these soldiers. "Damn fool girl's been around soldiers so long she thinks she can be one!" Ellen had yelled, venting to Dean, who at that time she didn't know at all.
Dean had merely nodded, let her vent, then waited for her to look at him. "Sorry, you must think I'm crazy," she had said, tears barely held at bay.
"No, ma'am. But she is a good soldier. Just so you know," he had said calmly.
She had given him a bewildered look. "You work with my Jo?"
"Yes, ma'am." Jo had her first assignment to his unit. She was blonde, feisty, and smart as hell.
Ellen hesitated at that. "Boy, how old are you? Bunch of kids with guns out there!"
Dean sighed as politely as he could. Ellen schooled her face into something kinder. "Keep an eye out for my girl out there."
"I will," Dean had said, shaking her hand. "She told me to come here. That I'd like it. She's right. You got a great bar. And your daughter is quite the handy mechanic."
Ellen grinned at that. "She was attached to her daddy's hip, working in the garage any time she could."
"And I'm sorry for your loss," Dean said evenly, knowing Jo's dad had died in combat 4 years ago. No wonder she had been mad as hell that her daughter had enlisted.
Ellen nodded. "Army has given me a lot," she had said, looking around her busy bar, "but it took a lot more." Her keen eyes locked onto his. Dean could see how fiercely she loved her daughter. And she could see how much he cared about his unit. The people in his unit were more than ranks and bodies. They were his responsibility and his temporary family.
"Evenin', babe," Ellen said, sitting a cold beer in front of him and shaking him out of the memory of meeting her.
"Hey, Ellen," Dean grinned half-heartedly.
"Rough day?" She stopped, leaning on the bar in front of him. He grinned a lop-sided grin at her. She would stop everything for him and it made him feel...loved.
"Boring day. Boring night."
She grinned and nodded. She knew his life inside and out. Dean had found Ellen to be like a second mother as time passed. "Well, here comes some trouble to stir up your night," she said, tipping her head forward to the door behind him.
Dean turned, looking over his shoulder. Three of his mechanics, Jo, Cole, and Garth, and a Systems Operator, Ash, came in and made a beeline to him.
"Hey, boss!" Jo smiled widely, giving him a half hug. "Hey, M
om!"
"Jo, baby," Ellen grinned, leaning over the bar to hug her.
"Come sit with us, Dean!" Garth grinned like the idiot he was.
He shrugged and followed them over to a table.
"Benny will be here soon. He's talking to some guy out there about his Harley," Garth said cheerfully. Dean nodded, sipping his beer. He liked Garth Fitzgerald the fourth. Which he actually found rather perplexing. Garth was geeky, ridiculously cheerful, and continued to catch Dean off guard with how smart he was. He was shit for physical prowess, but made up for it in heart, fearlessness and marksmanship. He had a Gomer-Pyle look to him. Ash was by far his most difficult soldier under his command. He had been aloof when he came a year ago. Barely made it through PT every morning. Dean was sure he was stoned at times. He had piss tested him five times the first month. Nothing. Dean had a nagging suspicion something was up, but couldn't bust him. Then he noticed that Ash was a fucking wizard with electronic systems. All those guys were sucked into intelligence or system ops, so he decided to make due with the stoned look as a trade off for superb work skills. He was a quirky bastard, but always had his comrades backs. And for some damn reason, him and Jo were thick as thieves. Cole Trenton, one of his mechanics in the motor pool, had come in with a chip on his shoulder. He and Dean had had it out several times, once Dean even reported him, starting disciplinary action. After a knock-down, drag-out "fight" in the self-defense gym. Cole had been cocky and was trying his damnedest to kick Dean's ass. Dean destroyed him. Easily. In front of most of the unit. Lying on his back on the mat, bleeding, sweating, and huffing for air, Dean had leaned over him. "You fuckin done tryin to show me up?"
"Yes, Sir!"
"Quit bleedin on my mat."
"Yes, Sir!" He said, jumping up.
"We good, Trenton?" Dean asked, in his face.
"Yes, Sir."
"It's fine if we're not. I can meet you here every fucking day if we need to do this."
The slightest laugh slid through the mess of his face. "No, Sir. We are good."
Since then, they had been fine. It was not the first, nor last cocky rookie that thought he could show-up his commanding officer. Lately, he had been hanging around Jo a lot. And sure, Dean liked him a lot more now than when he had first arrived, but it rubbed him the wrong way that he liked Jo. Jo was like his little sister at this point.
"Hey," Benny said, pulling out a chair and sitting across from Dean.
"Hey," Dean said. "Buyin a Harley?"
"Thinkin bout it," Benny grinned, taking a beer from Ellen as she served the table. Jo, laughably, was still under-age and only allowed in because she was the owner's daughter.
Dean thought about Benny getting a Harley. Well, if Benny got one...he'd have to get one too. It's just what they did.
Dean and Benny met in the bowels of hell known as basic training. They had applied to the same MOS and both got in as 'Wheeled Vehicle Mechanics'. After training was over, they had been assigned different platoons but were both deployed. They had been through one nasty skirmish together. They were both ruthless on the battlefield. Then Benny had been injured and sent home. Dean had finished his deployment and was going to try for the Ranger program. Until he got Court Marshalled by Major Zachariah Fuller for being AWOL for count one morning. Dean had only been state-side two months and his little brother, Sam, had run away from the foster home he was living in. Dean had driven to Kansas, reported himself AWOL, picked up Sam and took him to the police. The police and the military police agreed with a waiver that Dean could have custody of his brother until his next deployment, then he would live with a family friend. So, Dean arrived back at Fort Carson, Sam in tow, and one seriously pissed off Major Zachariah Fuller. No ranger program after that. And Sam was good as gold. The next time Dean was deployed, he went to live with Sheriff Jody Mills. Then back with Dean in Fort Polk, Louisiana. Deployed again. And now they had had two solid years at Fort Benning, Georgia. Although, Sam had left for college two months ago and it was actually really bothering Dean. He missed his pain in the ass brother.
"We can ride up through the smokey mountains, brotha," Benny grinned with that damn twinkle of hope in his eye that Dean associated with Sam's puppy-dog look.
"Yeah, we could," Dean nodded. He was such a friggin push-over. But it did sound fun.
"He wants too much for it. I'll wait til he's more ready to sell."
Dean nodded. He didn't have enough money for one anyway. Not with college expenses sucking his paychecks dry. His and now Sam's too.
A raucous of 'ohhs' caught his attention from the pool tables. A group of Army Rangers, all officers, were playing a game and one had apparently schooled another. Major Gabriel was laughing and smacking a taller man on the back. Dean had to snort a laugh at the fruity drink Gabriel carried. Only a Major could get away with carrying a fruity drink. The man he was smacking turned toward him, glancing back. He had dark brown, practically black hair and striking blue eyes. His eyes darted around briefly and he was back to laughing with the rest. An old, rusty feeling twitched deep down inside him. He watched the lean frame of the man lean over and say something in Gabriel's ear, making him laugh again. Dean wondered who the Ranger was. Then he turned back to the table at hand. 'Forget Rangers. You're never gonna be one,' he scolded himself.
"Hey, Charlie," Dean said, looking up and seeing his Captain approaching the table. The pair had been working hand in hand for two years now, running their unit together. She out-ranked him only because she was an officer, but neither of them let that be an issue between them. They ran a good unit. Best on the base as far as they were concerned.
"Hey, Dean!" She plopped down next to him, taking the last seat at the table. He and Charlie were like family. Like Benny.
"Wanna come over tonight and finalize deets for tomorrow's op?"
"Sure," Dean sighed, drinking his beer. They liked to plan out their field time at the last minute. Tomorrow they were going to the range and then running a Deuce rescue mock.
"See ya later, bitches!" Charlie yelled over the table.
"Night!" They called back, Dean waving to them all. Dean glanced over as he threw tip money on the table and caught a glimpse of the blue-eyed man watching him. It was the merest catch of a glimpse and his head was down, watching the game in front of him. He had moved from earlier, now back against the wall, still next to Gabriel. That familiar, rusty tug snagged low inside him. He turned to follow his Captain out of the noisy bar. He followed her back to post and back to her place.
"No Dorothy tonight?" He asked, seeing the house was quiet and dark.
"In the field," Charlie shrugged.
Dorothy was an Aviation Officer flying Apache helicopters. She was bad-ass and sweet as apple pie. The pair lived together and were engaged.
"Any word yet about your engagement?" Dean asked.
"No. Morons," Charlie sighed, opening her laptop. "But we're just waiting. They can't deny us getting married. But they can make it really suck."
"I hope they aren't dicks about it," Dean said. Gay women were accepted much quicker in the military than gay men. Charlie was a higher rank than Dorothy, also allowing them to 'review' the 'matter'.
"You looked down at The Roadhouse," Charlie said softly as she clicked into the page they wanted to use.
"Ah, not really. Missin Sammy, I guess."
Charlie tossed him a sympathetic smile. "So, I met this hot chick the other day. You should totally meet her. I think you'll like her."
Dean rolled his eyes. "Uh huh."
"She's a dental assistant. And you so need to get over Lisa."
Dean glared.
"You do. She's not coming back. I hope."
"No. Last time I saw her, I ran into her at the Roadhouse and told her to take a hike."
"Good. You deserve way better. Like, waaaay better."
"Shuddup," Dean murmured, receiving a shrug back.
They prepped for two hours while Dean played his playlist on Charlie's phone over her stereo. He drove back to his crappy housing across post. He showered and went to bed.
Three days later, he walked into the roadhouse to a loud crowd. His friend Jason was playing and he was late catching his set. He and Jason had gone into basic together. He had only stayed enlisted for 4 years and was now a civilian. Like so many, he found himself stuck in Columbus. He was an electrician by trade, but played with his band regularly at Ellen's. He took an open seat at the bar, waving to Ellen. The place was packed. Typical Friday night.
"Hey, soldier!" She smiled, sliding him a beer.
"Ellen," he nodded. He turned toward the band and tapped his finger with the familiar beat of Phillip Phillips Home.
'The trouble, it might drag you down,
If you get lost, you can always be found.
Just know you're not alone,
Cuz I'm gonna make this place your home.'
Dean wondered where he would ever call home. Fort Benning had been good to him. But Georgia's humid heat made him want to go elsewhere. His eyes scanned the room. Sitting at a table, watching the band intently, was the blue eyed man he had seen several days ago. Dean scanned the rest of the room, taking a drink of his beer and then scanned back, finding him again, like a magnet. Pam, who he knew also, took over singing for the next song. It was slow and sultry, her style. The mood relaxed a bit more.
'Fade into you,
Strange you never knew.
Fade into you. I think it's strange you never knew.'
The man was sitting sideways at the table, watching Pam sing. Elbow resting on the table, chin in hand, two fingers curled in front of his bottom lip. His other arm was hooked on the back of his chair, tapping slightly to the slow, steady beat.
'This stranger light goes on slowly,
A stranger's heart is not a home,
You put your hands into your head
And smiles cover your heart.
Fade into you'
His eyes tipped down and Dean's hand jerked slightly as the blue eyes flicked straight to him. Locked onto the bluest eyes he had ever seen. They were intense and Dean could feel his own heart rate jumping. The man's mouth twitched slightly and his eyes were back on Pam as she ended the song. Cheering and clapping for Pam erupted around him and he left the bar, heading for the opposite side of the Roadhouse, looking for...anything. The brief eye contact had been a shock to Dean's system. He took a swig of beer as he stepped up to the pool table to watch a group playing for money.
"There you are," came the familiar southern drawl of Benny.
"Hey, man."
"You alright?" Benny said, eyes narrowing, "Look spooked."
"Nah, I'm good," Dean grinned. "Just watching the kiddies play."
Benny let it go, but his eyes lingered slightly before he nodded.
Dean watched, seeing nothing in front of him. The look had been direct. Solid. There was no skimming over it. 'He caught me looking at him. Damn it. Why was I staring at him anyway? Oh, because he's fucking gorgeous. Damn it. I haven't been attracted to a guy since high school. ALL the guys I'm around and nothing all that time. I thought it was a damn fluke. A phase. Fuckin drugs.'
Dean took a long drink of beer.
'Why did he look right at me? He didn't smile either. Shit. I probably creeped him out. Leave it to me to piss off a fucking officer. He's so obviously an officer. Fuck. It was nothing. I'll just say I was lookin' at some chick behind him. Fuck. I'll probably never talk to him anyway.'
"Dean?" Benny said, breaking into his thoughts.
"Yeah? What?" Dean asked, taking another gulp of beer.
"Let's get out of here, man. You look like you need a minute."
"Yeah," Dean nodded and followed him out the front door. The humid air in the parking lot did nothing to refresh him, but the quiet helped.
'Why am I attracted to that dude? Haven't been since Mike. That was tenth grade. I was a freakin kid! This is...why am I even? I'm not gay. I'm not.'
They walked along the cars to the edge of the property, which bordered a pizza shop.
"Somethin happen?" Benny asked.
'Yeah, I had a fuckin 12 year old girl moment across a bar with a fuckin' guy!' "No."
Benny nodded, walking slower. Dean stopped.
'Would I lose my job if I was gay?' He flinched. 'I'm not gay. Fuck.'
"Come on, man," Benny said, putting his hand on Dean's shoulder, squeezing it gently, "let's drive back home. I'll follow you and we can have a beer on the back patio."
'Would he touch my shoulder if he knew I was gay?' He flinched again at the stab of shock of memories of feelings he had thought long extinct. 'I'm not gay. I been around Benny for days at a time and never once thought anything like that.' The same could be said for Charlie, a tiny voice told him. 'Whoa, just fuckin...wow. No.'
Dean headed toward his car, Benny heading for his own. Benny must be thinking he was having some PTSD.
The drive was a blur. Back at his house, sitting out on the patio, the pair sat quietly. Dean's head was anything but quiet. He switched to Jack and Cokes and the swirling slowed down and the voice quieted. The memories of his father freaking out and beating the shit out of him faded. The tightly locked door to that part of him slipped back shut and settled. 'It was nothing. It was an accident and I'm making a big deal out of nothing. If I ever meet the guy, I'll laugh it off. Yep. Done. Over.'
Benny slept on the couch, having drunk too much to drive to his place across post.
Dean passed out in his own bed.
The next night found Dean sitting at the bar of the Roadhouse with a Jack and Coke. Saturday night was busy. He glanced back seeing Jason come through the front door with his band mate Chuck and Major Gabriel Novak. The three were always together at the Roadhouse. They all sang and all played guitar. Dean did as well, which Jason would occasionally talk him into getting on stage with them.
"Hey, guys!" Dean grinned, burying his rattling door in his head.
"Hey!" Chuck and Jason called back. "Dean, this is Gabe," Chuck said.
Dean knew he was Major Gabriel. Everyone knew him. He was legend for pulling pranks on his unit. His commanders. He was the friendliest Major on post.
"Nice to meet you," Dean said, shaking his hand. His eye contact was direct and piercing. Gold brown eyes matched his gold-brown hair. He grinned easily.
"Hear good things about you," Gabe said, making Dean quirk an eyebrow. "Jason says you play. And everyone knows you run the tightest unit on post. You work with Bradbury, right?"
"Yes. Charlie and I have worked together 2 years now. She's fantastic."
Gabe grinned. "So we gonna play tonight?"
Dean glanced at Jason who met his look with raised eyebrows and a big closed grin.
"Maybe," Dean shrugged.
"Come on!" Chuck grinned. "I'm feelin..."
Dean laughed. He knew what he was going to say before he said it.
"Feelin some Simple Man comin on, my friend."
Dean nodded. "Maybe."
They moved to a table and had beer. Gabe's glances had lost their pierce. Dean shook it off to being freaked out from last night. Try as he might, he was paranoid Gabe's blue-eyed friend might show up, and he could not relax. When they got up to play, he shook his head to Chuck's invites. He did not feel like freakin out on stage.
He left when their set was over and went home. Alone. Two different women had flirted with him that evening. He had no interest in either of them.
He pulled the covers back on his bed, feeling the air conditioner blow across his hot, sticky skin. He sat on the edge of his bed, head dropping into his hands. 'Why am I freaking out? Today was fine. Nothing happened. Nothing happened yesterday either.' He rubbed his face hard and looked over at a picture of him and Sam on his dresser. Their dad had taken them hunting and taken a picture of the two of them standing on the front porch of the little cabin. Dean had a big grin, Sam's more subdued. Dean's head dropped into his hands again, his fingers crawling back into his hair and fisting.
He was in tenth grade and he had made friends with Mike. A kid in his class. They rode bikes and talked about cars. Then Dean started liking Mike. Thinking about him like he had thought about girls. It really freaked him out. Then he spent the night one night and while watching a movie, Mike had put his hand on Dean's leg. Dean left it there. Dean thought he might lose his mind with the fire and electricity going through him with that hand just laying there. Dean finally looked at Mike. He watched as the mask of 'friend-face' slid into a look of lust. Dean kissed him. They made out every chance they got. Which wasn't often. Then Dean got his driver's license. They were having sex not long after that. Until his dad caught Mike kissing him goodbye one night. Their deadbeat dad turned into a helicopter dad. He beat the shit out of Dean. Told him no son of his was gay. There was an ultimatum. Dean broke up with Mike. It hurt. It all hurt. The things his dad said. The hitting. The embarrassing comments in front of Sam. So Dean turned into his dad's good little soldier. He hunted. Fished. Worked on cars. Did guy stuff. But never hung around other guys. He became cut-off, surly. Like his dad. He had locked the memories away so tight that it physically hurt to relive it. His senior year he had a girlfriend. They even had sex. He had assured himself a million times that he was fixed. That Mike had been a weird phase that he was glad was over. He enlisted into the Army and his dad was proud. Like everything else he did, he was proud with a bit of reserve. Dean knew what the reserve held. It held his hatred for what his son had become briefly. Dean had told himself that the hidden part inside of himself never really existed anyway. Sam had been disgusted with their father the whole time. He hated hunting and fishing. He would help Dean or hang around him while in the garage, but never on his own. Sam just never cared what their father thought. When their dad died from drinking and driving, Sam was 16. Dean was deployed. He came home but could not take Sam with him. Then the whole foster care thing was not working. So Dean finally got custody of him. Sam never cared. He hated their dad for the night he beat Dean. Dean's fists tightened in his hair. 'Was dad right to freak out? Dean thought about those blue eyes across the bar. The twitch of his lip. Those lips. His relaxed body sitting in that chair. 'Fuck!
I was checking him out.'
"Fuck." Dean stood up, paced down his hall and into his living room.
'I was checking him out. His body.'
He paced into the kitchen.
'His body. His ass. The first time I saw him with Gabe. I checked out his ass.'
Dean froze at the memory, standing in front of his kitchen table.
'I saw him. Watched him laughing. Those eyes. I looked at his ass. The crinkles at the corners of his eyes when he laughs.'
"Mother fucker!" He swept his hands across his table throwing mail and books everywhere. 'He is hot. That's why I'm freaking out. I didn't just fucking check him out.' Dean threw a bowl, a fork. 'I liked what I saw. He was fucking hot.'
Dean looked at the disaster of his kitchen. Yeah, that had really helped. He sat heavily on one of the chairs. 'At least this looks how I feel. A fucking mess. I'm a fucking mess. How the hell did this happen? How did I ignore this for so long? Is it? Am I? Shit. Fuck. Shit.
My job. My friends. Sam. Dad.'
Dean felt panicky. His hands clutched the table and he took a deep breath.
'Dad's dead. Besides he was a fucking jerk. Sam. Sam wouldn't care. My friends. My job. No. I can't. They'll hate me. I'll lose respect. I'll be ruined. The guy doesn't even like me!'
Dean took a deep breath. He could call Charlie. Charlie would be cool. 'No. No one. No one knows and no one needs to know. The guy doesn't even like me. He doesn't know me. I don't exist. And neither does he.'
Done. Door closed. The door in his head that held 'those' memories and thoughts was locked tight. Done. Nothing had even happened. Except that he had definitely checked out a guy. Big deal. Get over it.