Who We Are and Where We Come From
Ever since his Dad died, there was one thing Dean dreaded more then anything else, and that was working with other hunters. Sure he had a select few he trusted, but they were Brotherhood and they knew all about John Winchester, they didn't need to ask questions.
The whispers that followed Sam and Dean were bad enough, the constant chatter of other hunters, who thought that they were the ones who know the true story. But the worst was when they asked his son's who John Winchester really was.
Sam, Dean and Caleb had been sent to help out some hunter's on a Rugaru hunt by Mackland. They all knew it was a distraction, Dean had been volatile lately, Sam had been quiet, and that meant Caleb was on babysitting duty for the time being.
The three men were quietly sipping on cheap roadhouse beer, waiting for the two hunters who were currently working on the case.
Two men walked towards the back of the bar, and the taller one of the two cleared his throat.
"Are uh… are you the guys Dr. Ames sent?" The stranger asked.
"Yeah…" Caleb responded, kicking out the two chairs across from them. "Grab a seat."
"Thanks… I'm Cliff, this is my partner Tristan."
Cliff was built like a football pro, but Tristan was lankier. The two were an unlikely pair to say the least.
"I gotta ask, how did you come across our little network of crazy? You two are pretty new out here and we aren't exactly in the yellow pages." Dean asked.
"we uhhh… we got more involved in the hunter network a couple of months back, after we ran into some guys on a hunt. They took us back to a hunter's bar and somewhere along the line, The Brotherhood came up in conversation…" Tristan whispered.
"…and you think you are hunting a Rugaru?" Sam asked
"Definitely. Matches up with all the lore and everything, we just don't know where to go from here. We aren't entirely sure how to kill it, and from what I hear you guys may be the best in the business." Cliff added.
"Pretty damn close to the best… fire is the only sure fire way to kill a Rugaru, we can help you build some homemade flamethrowers, teach you a thing or two if you want." Dean said.
"We would appreciate that, thank you." Cliff said sincerely.
"Don't thank us. It's out job. I'm gonna go get us another round, we'll go hunting tomorrow." Dean said standing from the table and making his way over to the bar.
The two hunters stared after Dean, and Caleb cocked an eyebrow at them.
"You guys see something you like or something?" Caleb asked.
The two hunters sunk back into their seats, realizing they had been caught staring.
"Sorry… we just never thought we'd be having drinks with The Brotherhood, especially you guys, hell John Winchester is a legend. Other hunters talk about him like he was a God among men."
Sam scoffed and took a sip of his beer.
"Yeah… most people thought that… I'm gonna give you some advice, stow the John Winchester talk when Dean gets back, or you might just lose all that help that he offered."
"We heard that you were the more… reasonable one." Tristan said.
"Don't kid yourself, he can be just as scary, I suggest you don't learn which buttons to push to get Sam pissed." Caleb suggested.
Sam gave him a dirty look but said nothing.
"Talking about your father doesn't push your buttons?" Cliff asked. He wasn't trying to be malicious, he was genuinely curious.
"Talking about my father pissed me off much more when he was alive. Now it only bothers me when people pretend to know what they are talking about, when they never even knew the guy… hell, I barely knew him, so don't listen to what a bunch of hunters say about my father."
"They didn't say anything bad Sam…" Tristan whispered.
"I know. They put him on a pedestal right? Told you the story of the man who could do know wrong. Great hunter, better drinker, changed the game of hunting forever. Is that the story you heard?"
"Basically."
"Well let me tell you the real story,,," Sam said leaning in.
"Sam…. Maybe you shouldn't start…" Caleb said, but was cut off by a cold glare from the younger Winchester.
"My Dad was a shit father at the best of times. He abandoned my brother and I at crap hotels to go chase evil. While he was getting drunk with the hunters who would go on to tell you his legacy, Dean was busy trying to fill his shoes, even though he was just a kid himself." Sam sighed and a funny smile made its way across his face.
"However, most of that wasn't entirely his fault. There was a time he was a good Dad, before I ever got to know him, and I know that if he had of been able to stay a civilian he would have been a great Dad. But that wasn't in the cards for us, he was a Maine, and he raised us the only way he knew how. He raised good soldiers; he gave me my brother, and a new family. My father had to make the kind of choices that would have ruined any other man, so I guess in hindsight he did alright. I can't ask for anything more then that."
"Well… I think I appreciate that story much more then the one I heard before." Cliff said. He held his beer up and leaned it towards Sam.
"To dead beat fathers… who did all the important things right."
Sam clinked his bottle against the other hunters, just as Dean came back with five full bottles.
"What're we toasting?" Dean asked.
"To the crazy world we live in." Cliff said winking at Sam.
Dean frowned a little, but then shrugged.
"Well… let's finish this round, then we get to go build some weapons."
"Sounds good to me." Sam said with a smile.
The hunters chatted for awhile, about nothing important, but more then anything, Caleb was just happy to see them smiling again. It was a start.