For the comment_fic prompt: SPN/Leverage, John/Eliot, Dean (& Sam), Eliot needs help and Dean is the closest one to him. AU where John lives.

John and Eliot had been together for a few months (and most of that was hunting separately), when Eliot calls John for backup on a job. But John's researching a lead in Cali and Dean's the only hunter who's not three states over, so John calls Dean.

"H'lo," Dean mutters into the phone, trying to rub the crap out of his eye that stuck there while he slept. He knows better than to complain about being called at 3 in the morning.

He drives the Impala all night and is just in time to help Eliot Spencer burn out the nest. As they run out, they meet four coming back in, and they split them up, nice and fair, each hunter getting two. It's the first time Dean has seen Eliot in action, but he's not surprised how good he is. John had been impressed, and it's not like the man impresses easy.

When they get back to town, it's dawn, but Eliot wants to buy him a drink, so they ask around about the bar that never closes - every town has one, and it's usually the same bar that don't ask questions no matter how haggard you look.

They order whiskey, and Eliot tells him that it reminds of home, of Kentucky and horses and fields. He tells him about his first creature, that he found when he was in high school when he went sneaking around the caves just for the fuck of it.

Dean nods, tells a few stories of his own. Just like he would with someone else - talking shop, trading knowledge and stories and scars, dealing, in other words, in the currency of hunters. But the truth is, Dean isn't sure he wants to be here, or that he wants to be with this man who is obviously trying to be a little less and gruff and angry than he wants to be. Dean, too, is more polite than he would be with someone else, and so they sit there, two men who just got up close and bloody with evil, and strive to have a pale, pleasant conversation.

The whole time, Dean wonders what the hell they're doing. Eliot's the guy that his dad hunts with, and what they do beyond that isn't any of Dean's business, or at least it shouldn't be. But Eliot's trying so hard to be nice, to take an interest in Dean, not just in hunting but in his personal life, in his thoughts, and Dean can tell that it doesn't fit, that this kind of gentle civility doesn't hang well on Eliot's shoulders. But the man keeps trying and Dean knows it's well-intentioned so he smiles and tries to act like he gives a shit, even though the whole thing makes him feel like a child being told that even though his new stepmom is going to be around a lot, it's okay because she really just wants to be his friend.

When they part, they shake hands and give each other the nod, the hunter nod that means they hope to see each other again but there's no way they'll say something like "Be safe out there," because that's just bullshit in a life like theirs. But then as Dean sits down in his car seat, Eliot comes back over and says, "Look... look man, I know this is weird. I've never stuck around long enough to meet someone's kids. Especially since, you know, you're not a kid."

"I'm your age," Dean agrees, without thinking about what he's saying or why he's saying it.

"I know," Eliot says, "I just... your dad... "

"It's cool, man," Dean says, not sure if he means it. It's not the age thing, but it's something. John didn't exactly settle down with anyone, and he sure didn't let other people into their family, so Dean never had to figure out how to do it as a kid, how to think of his dad as a man and not his dad. Even after everything, after giving up a good portion of his blind hero worship, he hadn't quite figured out how to do this part. How to live like family means everything, like family iseverything, it's all you are, but then have a stranger come along and expect to be treated like family. But he wasn't about to tell this guy any of that, was he?

Eliot seems to read part of it though, because he sighs and answers, "Look, there aren't many people I trust to have my back. John's one of them. So are you and Sam. It's a pretty short list, and it's heavy with Winchesters."

Dean snorts. "You need some people on your list that aren't ass deep in demons."

Eliot grins. "Now what fun would that be?"

Dean smiles. He nods then and says, "You and my dad? If it works for him, then whatever. Not Sam's business, not my business, so you don't have to tiptoe around my delicate feelings. My dad's never really... you know, had anything for himself. The job and family, that's what he does. So, you know, who is anyone else to say he can't have... you know, a little bit of what other people have..." By the time he finishes, Dean is looking away, staring at the steering wheel in front.

Eliot just nods, takes the hint that conversation is over. He taps the hood of Dean's car lightly and says, "Thanks for coming out today, Dean. I'll see you at the house next month probably."

Dean nods. "See you then."

He starts the car and drives off, and in his rearview he sees Eliot watching him go. On his way, he thinks about all the ways Eliot is like his father.

He's not sure if he likes them all. But he knows, it could be worse.

He hits play on his tape deck. It belts out one of John's favorites, "Sweet Child of Mine."

(end)