DISCLAIMER: Supernatural ain't mine, y'all. For writing this, I'm paid in nothing but less time to do my homework.
A/N: I write a lot of one-shots and this is my first chapter fic in a long time. Hope it's turned out all right for you guys! I'm thinking 2-3 chapters, but we'll see.
Dean liked to go to the movies alone. There was something about the escapism of it: for two hours Dean wasn't motherless, living out of a car, constantly hunting evil with his dad and parenting his little brother. He was someone else, not Dean Winchester, the guy who wasn't good for much more than keeping his father and brother from killing each other; instead, he was James Garner in The Great Escape or Kevin Costner in The Untouchables. Movies represented a kind of freedom for which Dean held a great desire, though he would never say it out loud or even allow himself to consider too deeply. They represented freedom from his chaotic lifestyle and an escape into one where he knew exactly how things would turn out every time because the script never changed. Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid always went out together in the end. Gotham always lived to see another day. In the dark of a movie theater, much more so than in front of the dim glow of a motel television screen, the unanswerable questions no longer loomed over him. Why did my mom have to die, will we ever find what killed her, will Dad ever lose that disappointment in his eyes, will Sam ever get the normal life he wants, will I? Can we save everyone? No, for a time these questions could float away while Dean watched Indiana Jones escape a pit of snakes, and survive the opened Ark, and save the girl. Yes, Dean liked to go to the movies alone.
John expected Dean to spend his every waking moment with Sam, which Dean was happy to do — most of the time. But he still couldn't turn down an opportunity to spend a night out with his latest girlfriend. And sometimes he enjoyed accompanying John on a dangerous hunt, just Dean and his dad bonding and burning some bones, while Sam was safe with Bobby or Pastor Jim. But something he always liked and rarely had the opportunity to do was go to the movies with no dad on constant watch, no Sammy with his relentless questions, no girl to distract from the story and its action. Dean had yet to find anyone who could appreciate a good movie as much as he could (hell, Sam still insisted that the remake of Godzilla vs. Mothra was better than the original).
So while the Winchesters were stopped in Illinois for a few days on their way to South Dakota (the Impala took a swell beating on their last hunt and just couldn't make it to Bobby's in time), Dean took notice of the old style theater in the downtown square. A sign said that the eastern half of the theater was closed due to remodeling, but the big screen on the other end was still playing a special 50th anniversary summer showing of Invasion of the Body Snatchers — the original, of course. Dean made note of it as he and Sam walked around the square while John waited for a tow truck to bring the Impala to the nearest motel. John refused to spend the money for repairs and instead opted to wait for Bobby to drive down with the parts they needed to put the Impala back on the road.
Sam and Dean had just walked past the library, which Sam took a longing look at, and were peering in the window of a vintage clothing shop when John came up behind them and placed a hand on each of their shoulders. Dean saw his dad's reflection before he felt his touch, but still instinctively grabbed Sam, who hadn't been paying enough attention to notice John and so was startled by him.
"Just me, Sammy," John said as Sam spun around and knocked his arm away. "Quick reflexes, though. You're improving."
"It's Sam."
"Hey, Dad," Dean said, turning around and interrupting John's opportunity to give his usual response to Sam's indignant reminder. "Where's the car?"
"At the motel, five blocks west of here on Main Street. Bobby's got at least an eight-hour drive ahead of him, but knowing him, he won't be in any rush for this. We'll probably be here a couple days."
"Cool, then I can check out the library."
Dean smirked. "You're such a geek, dude."
Sam looked up at Dean from beneath furrowed brows. "I am not, jerk. It looks cool."
Dean held back a laugh at Sam's annoyed expression. The kid was so easy to rile up.
"So if Bobby's coming to meet us, where're we going next?"
John began walking down the street and motioned for his boys to follow. "I've been searching papers and calling hunters since we left Ohio, but no new leads yet. We'll probably continue on up to Sioux Falls. I think I'm gonna pick up the truck from Bobby's."
Dean's eyes lit up and his brows rose. "You're gonna start driving the truck?"
John turned a corner down the next street and looked behind him to make sure his sons were still following. "That's what I said. Can't risk this happening again. We're lucky we were in-between hunts. It's not safe to be without backup."
"So," Dean chose his words slowly and carefully as to not appear too eager, "does that mean … I get the Impala?"
John stopped walking and turned to Dean. "You get to drive the Impala. Trial basis. If you take good care of her — don't drive her into a fence again, good intentions or not — then maybe I'll give you the car. Assuming you maintain her properly."
"Yes, sir!" Dean said, opting not to defend himself against the fence comment (so maybe it was his fault the Impala was wrecked, but what was he supposed to do when the ghoul John had left him to take care of was closing in on Sam and he was too far away to shoot it?). He looked down at Sam, who was grinning wide enough to make his dimples burst. He'd been waiting for this moment about as long as Dean had. He'd finally get a break from the unending ride with Dad and get to hang out with Dean instead.
Truthfully, John felt a little bruise to his ego at seeing how excited the boys were to be getting their ride, away from him, but he reminded himself that this was normal for teenagers. He also knew he'd have some difficulty when it came down to finally handing the keys over to Dean. The Impala was his most prized possession apart from Sam and Dean and it was one of his only remaining connections to Mary, as he'd bought it for her — for them — all those years ago. But he knew he could trust Dean to take good care of the car, and at least Sam could temper his brother's wilder side when necessary.
"Glad we're all happy. Now let's get some food."
The boys looked up at the restaurant sign John stopped under.
Dean and Sam looked through the window of Jim's Diner. Obviously '50s themed, the diner boasted a jukebox and a pool table. The walls were covered in old records and posters of Elvis. Even the waiters and waitresses were dressed as if they belonged to some greaser gang.
"Interesting," Sam said, looking back at his dad.
"Yeah, it's kinda campy," John said, "but kids eat free from 5-9."
"I'm not a kid. I'm fourteen."
John smiled at Sam, as short and scrawny as ever. Lucky enough for his tight budget. "You'll pass."
XXX
After dinner, Dean still had his heart set on a movie. "Hey, I'll meet you guys back at the motel," he said as they exited the diner. "I'm gonna go over to that theater on the square."
"Take Sam with you," John said. "He'd probably like to see a movie."
"Which movie?"
"Invasion of the Body Snatchers."
"Oh," Sam said. "The remake?"
"No."
"The other remake?"
"No, not the other remake. '50s and black and white."
"Oh. I never really liked that one. I'm just gonna go to library for a while, okay, Dad?"
John was apprehensive with his answer. Sam going off with his brother was fine, but alone? It was dangerous. "I dunno about that."
"Oh, come on, Dad, it's a library. We've spent tons of time in libraries and haven't found one haunted yet."
John chose to ignore Sam's sarcasm. He wanted to remind him that just because something hadn't happened yet didn't mean it never would. But he knew Sam had a point. Sometimes it was just difficult for John to realize that not everything in the world was evil. There weren't ghosts or demons or ghouls or anything else like that everywhere they went. They weren't in this town for a hunt. They were here for repairs. "All right. But you keep your pack with you. You have your salt? Your knife? Holy water?"
Sam seemed to nod his whole body, he'd been asked these questions so many times and the answer was always the same. "Yeeeeesssssss," he drawled.
"And you keep alert. Don't let your guard down. You understand?"
"Yes, sir," Sam said and started walking away in slow motion, knowing his dad would try to tack on as many orders and as much advice as he could before Sam was out of sight.
"Check the cell phone and make sure it has a full battery—."
"Dad, he's got it," Dean said.
John gave Dean a look that said it wasn't okay to cut him off, but he wasn't angry. He knew he was overprotective, but it was hard to let his fourteen-year-old just go off on his own without worrying. Especially knowing what John knew.
"I'll be like a block away from him. I'll pick him up on my way back."
"Sam, you wait at the library for Dean to come get you. Don't try to walk home by yourself at night."
"Yes, sir."
"And Dean, don't go goofing off and forget him, got it?"
"Yes, sir," Dean said, then put a hand on Sam's shoulder to lead him down the sidewalk toward the library and away from John.
When they were out of earshot, Sam let the complaints roll. "He treats me like I'm a baby."
"That's 'cause you are one."
Sam pulled away from Dean's grasp and shoved him. "Shut up."
"Did I upset the baby?" A childish grin formed across Dean's face.
"Dean."
"Come on, Sammy, lighten up a little. Read some funny papers or something while you're in there."
"But I'm serious. He acts like I'm some little kid. At least he lets you do what you want."
"I get to do what I want because I'm cooler than you." When Sam furrowed his brow, Dean gave him a brotherly pat and added, "Don't stress out about Dad. When you're eighteen, you can go to the library all by yourself and Dad'll only ask you once if your machete is sharpened."
Dean meant it as a joke, but Sam didn't laugh. Eighteen, Sam thought. A lifetime away. He wondered if he'd really still be asking Dad if he could go to the library without Dean, or if he'd finally be away, doing what he wanted, in one place. He brushed the thought away as they arrived in front of the library steps.
"Buck up, hermano," Dean said, and messed Sam's already messy hair. "And stay away from the skin rags."
Sam cracked a smile and hurried up the steps, waving at Dean before he went inside.
Dean waited for the door to close behind Sam before he continued down the block toward the theater. The lights on the marquee weren't lit like they usually would be, but the skinny man in his early thirties standing in the box office signaled that the theater was still open for business. Dean approached the box office with a confident stride. "One for the seven o'clock, please."
The man wordlessly took Dean's money and handed him a ticket. Before Dean walked inside, he remembered to remind him, "Do not go past the yellow tape. A portion of the theater is under construction and will be ready for reopen at the end of the summer. Enjoy your movie." It was memorized and he delivered it in a monotone.
Dean half-saluted him as he walked inside. Upon entering, he immediately noticed the construction site that was everything to the left of the concession stand. Dean only counted three workers in the area, two of them not even wearing hardhats. One was standing on a ladder, apparently doing some kind of wiring.
Dean got a hotdog, popcorn, a slush, and Junior Mints (he had a small dinner) and headed for the theater. The girl who took his ticket was cute and smiled at him, and on another day he would've taken the opportunity to unapologetically hit on her, but not tonight. Tonight he was ready for some pod people.
He took his ticket stub back, careful not to spill everything he had only a precarious hold of, and headed down the hall to the western theater.
It was only half an hour into the film, when Dean had just begun in on his Junior Mints, when he heard the scream. Then there was the crash. He somehow knew it was the sound of flesh hitting concrete.
Despite how much he'd wanted his movie night, Dean didn't hesitate to toss his popcorn to the floor and head in the direction of the noise.
A/N: So, whaddya think? I really appreciate any and all reviews! Thanks!