Son of a bitch. Dean Winchester sat at a table in the back of the Roadhouse, eyes glued to the papers in his hands. This wasn't fake. This was a real thing. Holy shit.
He'd taken Sam to their monthly visit with DCFS to make sure Dean was keeping Sammy fed and clothed properly. Honestly, it was pretty easy since Dean wouldn't let anything bad happen to that kid. But today, he'd been handed a piece of paper that still hadn't been able to sink into his brain fully. Once every six months, Bobby and Ellen let Dean pretend he and Sam lived in their loft above the Roadhouse in order to skip the whole effective-guardians-aren't-homeless dilemma, but this piece of paper was going to change that. It could change everything.
Today, as they sat down with their DCFS worker, the woman asked Dean, "Do you know a Mary Winchester?"
Dean's heart had stopped for a bit. He could still remember her golden hair and her warm smile. He could still feel her arms around him, hugging him when he'd had a nightmare.
"Yeah," Dean had said, "That's our mom." Sam had been just as confused as Dean as they were given a manila envelope.
"Apparently, these people have been trying to get this to you for some time. It's a good thing you're registered with us, or they might not have gotten this to you at all," their worker had said.
Dean still couldn't believe it. Mary Winchester had been dead for fifteen years, and she was still looking out for them. A trust fund. Dean Winchester, whose luck was laughable at best, had been handed paperwork for a trust fund that had been left to him and Sam. Apparently, Dean had gained access to the trust fund when he'd turned twenty-one, except Dean wasn't actually twenty-one yet. Legally speaking, he was twenty-two, but that was just what he'd said on the documents he'd had to fill out when he enrolled Sam in school in the city. Really, he had just turned nineteen a few days ago. Still, early access to a trust fund was nothing he was going to question.
He just couldn't believe it. They'd been on the street for so long. He still needed to meet with the bank person to discuss the trust fund and how the funds would be used, but with the numbers staring back at him from the paperwork, Dean and Sam could definitely afford an apartment. They could have a roof for a change, maybe even a bed. There had to be a catch. There was always a catch. Dean just couldn't help feeling giddy, though. It didn't matter what catch there was, this could be just enough for them to have a home for the first time in a long time, and that was enough to keep a smile plastered on Dean's face. Holy shit, they could have a home.
Jo walked over to the table holding a tray full of drinks.
"Hey, handsome," Jo said, "What's that?"
Dean couldn't bring himself to put the papers away. It was just too good to be true. If he put them back in the envelope, they might vanish. How could explain to Jo what these papers were? They were his life, Sam's life. They were any chance either of them had for a future.
"I got access to my mom's trust fund," Dean said, not sure if his voice was betraying just how in awe of all of this he was, "Sam and I-we-holy shit, Jo."
Jo sat quickly in the seat across from Dean earning her some dirty looks from the patrons whose drinks she was holding hostage. "What? Are you serious? What are you going to do?" Jo asked, excited.
"We're gonna get an apartment for one thing," Dean said.
Jo asked, "Are you gonna go back to school?"
Dean had gotten his GED with the help of Bobby and Ellen, but college was a total pipe dream. Son of a bitch, he could probably afford to go to college. Maybe not go enough for a full degree, but he could still go. Holy fucking shit.
"I don't know," Dean said, "I still have to meet with the banker and go over all of this, but maybe. I mean, if there's enough money to cover everything, maybe."
Jo squealed, jumped up, and hugged Dean tightly. "This is so exciting! I'm so happy for you!" she said happily.
Ellen looked up from wiping down the bar and said, "Jo, our customers still need their drinks. Hop to it."
Jo ignored her mom and asked Dean, "Does Sam know? Is he super excited? I can't wait to see him, he's probably beaming."
Ellen slung the rag over her shoulder and headed over to give her daughter a piece of her mind as Dean said, "Sam was there when we got the papers, but I had to walk him to school right away. He doesn't know yet."
"Tell him here," Jo said, "I need to see his face."
"What's going on?" Ellen asked.
Jo picked up the drinks and hurried off before her mom could glare at her anymore.
Dean explained, "I just found out my mom set up a trust fund for me and Sam. I just got the paperwork this morning."
"May I?" Ellen asked, holding out a hand for the papers.
Dean did not want to let go of the paperwork. He didn't want to hand them over and have Ellen find a reason this was all really too good to be true. He gave the envelope and paperwork to Ellen and held his breath.
Ellen read over the documents quickly, eyes slightly widening at the trust fund amount. "Wow, honey, this looks promising. I'm happy for you boys," she said warmly.
Dean took the envelope and papers back, smiling like an idiot. This could work. This could really work.
"We can probably afford to pay you and Bobby back now," Dean said, ever conscious of the kindness the pair had done for him and Sam over the years.
Ellen laughed and said, "Don't be silly, Dean. You can pay us back by taking care of yourselves with that trust fund."
Dean hugged Ellen, not sure if words could express how truly grateful he was to them. Without Bobby and Ellen, Sam and Dean would probably have gotten separated or ended up dead. He owed them everything.
After Ellen pulled away, she asked, "How come your daddy didn't know about this?"
Dean didn't flinch. He tried not to think about his dad too often, and he could talk about him now without much difficulty. There were still nights that he'd hear that gunshot ringing through his ears throughout the night, but he was still really glad he didn't flinch. "I don't know," he said, "Maybe my mom never told him."
Ellen smiled and said, "I'm so happy for you. Glad to see something going right for a change."
Dean nodded as the Roadhouse phone rang. The clock on the wall said it was just about time for Sam to be getting out of school. Bobby picked up the phone behind the bar, said a few words, nodded at Dean, and hung up. Dean put the papers back in the envelope, fastened it, and waved goodbye to Ellen as he went to pick up Sam.
The school was only a few blocks away, but it felt like an eternity in the cold winter air. Dean pulled his jacket tighter around him, feeling the envelope inside his jacket resisting the motion. He wouldn't dare crumple the envelope, though. Its contents were much too precious.
Walking up to Sam's high school, Dean saw Sam kiss a girl goodbye. She was a little too butch for Dean's taste, but considering Sam had been with full on guys before, Dean wasn't entirely surprised.
"So, who was that?" Dean asked as Sam got closer.
Sam blushed, and it made Dean wait to pull out the manila envelope. Now, he really was curious.
"Just a friend," Sam said.
"Just a friend?" Dean said, almost laughing with skepticism, "You sure used a lot of tongue with your friend over there."
Sam rolled his eyes with an embarrassed smile and said, "She's my girlfriend. I mean, we've only been dating for a couple of days, but she's really nice."
Dean grinned as they walked back towards the Roadhouse. "Your girlfriend got a name?" he asked.
"Her name's Lucy," Sam said.
"Nice," Dean said.
"You're not going to make fun of me?" Sam asked.
Dean gave Sam a sideways glance and asked, "Why would I make fun of you for having a girlfriend?"
"Because you're you," Sam said.
Dean sighed and said, "I'm not going to make fun of you for having a girlfriend. Besides, we have more important things to talk about."
"What was in the envelope?" Sam asked quickly.
Dean laughed and said, "Just about the best thing ever, but Jo wants to see your face when you find out, so I can't tell you yet."
"Since when do you ever listen to what Jo wants?" Sam protested.
"You make a valid point, Sammy," Dean said, "But since we're already here..."
Dean opened the door to the Roadhouse, letting Sam slip inside.
Jo was busy taking an order in the back of the building near the foosball table, and Dean was just not going to wait longer. "Okay, Sam, brace yourself," he said.
Sam looked at Dean with wide eyes, swallowing anxiously.
Dean said, "It's the paperwork for a trust fund. Mom left us a goddamn trust fund."
"What does this mean?" Sam asked, his hesitant smile already hitting his eyes.
"It means we're getting an apartment for starters," Dean said.
"An apartment?" Sam asked, smile turning up to megawatt voltage.
Dean nodded excitedly.
Sam hugged Dean tightly, and it was all Dean could do not to cry right there.
They'd been on the streets ever since their dad had died four years ago, and now, finally, it looked like they'd be able to have a real home. But as it was, Dean still needed to meet with the banker, and they were still on the streets. A light at the end of the tunnel was really something, though.
Dean released Sam, who was instantly hugged tightly by Jo. They still had a few hours before they needed to get to a shelter, so Dean let Sam enjoy the Roadhouse. He couldn't believe there was a day coming that wouldn't be dictated by when shelters closed for the night. But it was, and God was Dean ready for it.