Title: I'll Be The One To Tuck You In At Night: Chapter 1/?
Authors: pyromaniac32 and gdspgcfan
Rating: PG-13
Pairing/Characters: Dean, Sam, and a few made ups but only one stays around...
Summary: Dean's past catches up with him, and he finds his life changed in ways he never imagined.
Warnings: Some language, but that's about it.
Disclaimers: No we don't own Sam and Dean. You don't want to know what we would do with them if we did, but we can say it would involve handcuffs and cowboy hats for sure.
Author's Notes: Thanks to tillyrosestar (at livejournal 'dot' com) for the wonderful beta job!
"I'll be the One to Tuck You in at Night"
It had been two days. Two days since he got the call. Two days since his world had been turned upside down, leaving him lost and confused. He glances over at Sam, cringing inwardly when he catches sight of the makeshift sling they'd concocted to help support Sam's now wounded shoulder; the shoulder that got hurt because Dean hadn't been paying proper attention on their latest hunt. And that was just the final straw. He had to deal with this, and he knew it. Seeing that sling made it too clear just what was at stake here; Sam, Sam's life, hell, even his own life. He had to face this horror so it could finally stop clouding his brain, otherwise next time might be a lost life, rather than an injured shoulder.
"We're leaving tomorrow," Dean says in Sam's general direction.
"Perfect, I think I've already got our next case, check this out," Sam says as he turns the computer to face Dean, revealing a webpage with the latest news from Booker, Texas. "Reads like a Chupacabra. They're getting braver, moving further and further north from Mexico."
Dean gives the screen only a cursory glance before returning his attention to cleaning the gun before him. "We're not going to Booker," He says softly, almost too quiet for Sam to hear. A dead giveaway something is bugging him, and he tries to pretend not to hear when Sam brings it up, but Sam's too damn persistent, the little bastard.
"Dean! Dean, do not pretend like you can't hear me, what's going on with you?" Sam shouts out, exasperated at the bullheadedness of his older brother. He pauses for a moment, waiting for a response. He doesn't get one. "Dean, you're the one always going on about how we need to find the next case. People to save, no time for rest. And suddenly you're turning down a case? What, you already found one? You just hate the idea of this one? You…you aren't even listening to me so you won't mind if I call dad up and tell him you're the one who stole his truck back in '95 and wrecked it into the river trying to impress a girl?"
"You wouldn't dare." It's the only response Sam gets, but it tells him Dean's listening, which confirms his suspicion that Dean was ignoring him, which confirmed that Dean was hiding something, and had been for a few days now.
"Dean, enough is enough. You were off tonight, and you know it. And I know something is on your mind. It's bad enough to screw with your hunting skills, so it's got to be really bad. And if I'm going to be trusting you to watch my back, I need to know what's going on." Then he leans back against the headboard of his bed, content to let the silence drag out now that he's said his piece.
"We're going to Dove Creek, Colorado, Sam." It's not a request for agreement and it's not a suggestion; it's a fact. Pure and simple stated fact that Sam has to deal with.
"Why?"
Dean lets out a low growl of frustration and pushes out through gritted teeth, "Because I've got business there."
Sam sighs, knowing better than to push Dean. He won't say anything until he's good and ready to; something Sam has learned the hard way. He looks over at Dean for a few more moments before speaking up again. "Fine. See you in the morning then, g'night." he says before lying down and rolling over to face away from Dean.
Dean looks over at Sam, frowning slightly. He felt a little bad about not letting him know what was up, but this was just way too personal. He snaps the loaded clip back into his gun and shoves it under his pillow, just in case. As he shuts out the light and lies back, images of her come unbidden into his mind. He remembers everything about her. Rebecca. He remembers the way her long, dark-blonde hair cascaded in waves down her back and framed her face, how her bright green eyes sparkled when she'd first smiled at him…
They'd caught each other's eyes from across the bar, and Dean had smiled, pasting on his charm. He'd walked over to her, motioning to the barman to bring her another drink. "So, what does it feel like to be the most beautiful girl in this room?"
"Thanks for the drink," she'd said, laughing a little before looking over at him, her smile shining in her eyes. "I'm Rebecca." She had completely ignored his attempt at a line, something Dean was somewhat grateful for.
"Rebecca," Dean nodded, liking the name. "I'm Dean," he'd said with a smile, and she'd sipped her drink and started asking about him; where he was from, what he did for a living, and he had to admit, he felt a little guilty lying to her. It had never really bugged him before, but somehow she was different, and he felt a little bad about the lies, but he had to.
Later that evening, after about four beers and twenty conversation topics, she'd caught sight of his watch as he lifted his hand to signal for another round. "Oh, is that the time already?" Dean glanced down at his watch, reading just a little past midnight. "Yeah, guess so. Why?"
"I really should be getting home, I've got work in the morning," she had said, giving him a truly apologetic look. Dean took a moment for consideration before speaking again. "Is your car out front? I could walk you out," and his heart had skipped a little at her light laugh and bright smile as she told him she'd walked from her friends place. "Then let me drive you home. It's late, and you never know what's out there."
He remembers the way she'd considered him for a moment, silently debating, before smiling in consent and walking out to the Impala with him. He remembers walking her to her door just to make sure she was safe, and being a little surprised when she'd invited him in. And by now, he actually respected her, almost felt bad about everything because he knew he was leaving early tomorrow for the next case, and Dean Winchester, for once in his life, almost turned down an invitation. Almost.
He remembers the way her skin felt under his hands, the softness of her lips against his as they tumbled onto the bed, hands and kisses and touches sweet and gentle. And he remembers waiting till after she was asleep before quietly dressing again and pausing in the doorway to look back at her. A semblance of guilt stabbed at his gut for leaving her like that, without a word, without goodbye, and he hadn't been able take it. He'd dug around until he found a scrap of paper and a pen, and he'd scribbled out a quick note: Rebecca, something came up, I had to leave. I'm sorry, but here's my number if you ever need anything. 1-866-907-3235. – Dean Winchester. And then he'd been gone. And now, with his last memories of her going through his mind, he drifts into a restless sleep.
Several hours, a car full of silence, and two meals later, they pulled into Dove Creek, Colorado. Dean pulls up and parks at the first motel he finds, sending Sam to get a room while he stays behind and unloads their bags.
Once they've got everything settled and situated in their room, Dean finally breaks the silence that had followed them all the way from Holbrook, Arizona. "I'm going to go to the library, see if I can't come up with some research for us. I'll be back later, alright?"
"Want me to help out? We both know I'm better than you with the book research." Sam asks, looking up at his brother to see if he gets the response he was expecting.
"No!" Dean responds all to quickly, and rather curtly, if Sam may say so. "Uhh, I mean, no, you can…stay here and work on finding stuff on the laptop. It's uhh, supposedly another umm, woman in white. Yeah, so…work on finding out anything you can. I'll be back later." Dean turns and walks out, slamming the door before Sam has a chance to ask any questions or call him on the fact that that was so obviously a lie that a damned rock could have figured it out. He quickly fishes his keys out of his leather jacket and walks over to the impala. Sliding in, he starts her up and pulls out of the parking lot.
He tries to distract himself by turning up the volume on his BOC cassette, but his thoughts drown out the music. This cannot seriously be happening. It'd been over a year now, why was he just now finding out about this? Why hadn't he gotten this call sooner? This really was something he should have known about. He snaps back to reality again when a car in the other lane honks at him because he was starting to drift as he was driving. He checks the directions he'd scribbled out after having listened to the message for the tenth time, and sees that he's almost there. He takes a deep breath as his thoughts consume him again, and before he realizes it, he's parked outside the building; just sitting there, staring. There's got to be some kind of mistake here. But no, they'd said 'Dean Winchester' on the message. He takes a deep, though rather shaky breath as he exits the car, and starts up the steps.
As he takes the last few steps into the building, he almost forgets to breathe. He takes a look around the front lobby, and jumps a little when the receptionist asks if she can help him. "Uhhh, I need to see Amber Stillman. Please." The receptionist picks up her phone, punching a few numbers, and speaking quietly to the person on the other end. After she hangs up, she returns her attention to Dean. "Go down the hallway to your left, and she'll be the third door on the right." Dean mumbles a quick "Thank you." before following her instructions.
As he steps up to the door, he silently tells himself to calm down before having to meet this woman. With a slight intake of breath he slowly reaches up, knocking lightly against the door, thoughts still swimming through his mind.
"Come in," calls the voice from the other side, and Dean almost gives up and runs right then, but he steals himself, mustering up the courage. Then he's pushing open the door. "Mr. Winchester?" the voice says again once he's inside the room, and he looks up toward where it was coming from, seeing a smallish woman behind a desk.
"Yeah, I'm Dean," is all he can manage to get out. The woman stands, extending her hand to him. "I'm Mrs. Stillman, but please, call me Amber." And Dean, raised with some semblance of manners, accepts the handshake. "Please, have a seat." Mrs. Stillman tells him, so he takes his seat in the large, oversized chair in front of the desk.
"I'm going to guess that you're here because you got my message?" Dean pauses for a moment before answering. "Yeah, yeah, you uh, said something about an accident? What happened, and is…Isabel here?"
"No, Isabel isn't here, but a visitation can be arranged before anything has to be decided if that's what you'd like to do."
Dean pauses again before he responds. "Yeah, yeah. I want to see her, I want to see my daughter."
"I'll have to make a few calls, clear it with the orphanage, but I don't think it'll be too much trouble to have that set up for after we're done here." Dean nods in appreciation. "Thanks. So, what happened? I mean, you didn't really explain anything in the message."
"It wasn't her fault. She had just left work and she was almost home, but there was an accident. She had the green light, but the other driver, he hadn't been paying attention. They, uh, they took her to the hospital, but, I'm sorry, she didn't make it."
Suddenly it was like the world stopped for him, he'd heard accident on the voicemail, but dead? Rebecca was dead? He swallowed hard as he tried to get control of something, anything. He wanted to go out and find the goddamn guy, the guy who didn't have enough time to stop at a red light and because of it; she was dead, leaving a baby behind. His baby.
Dean is quiet for the longest time. Not sure how to respond to that. But when he does finally speak, it's all questions. "How long ago? How long has Isabel been without a parent? How old is she now anyways?"
Amber smiles. It wasn't often that the father actually showed up once they'd tracked him down, but to find one who actually cared about the child? It was nothing short of a miracle. "The accident was a few weeks ago, but you're a hard man to find Mr. Winchester. And Isabel is almost four months old now. Will be in about two weeks."
Dean felt a wave of guilt and sorrow wash over him. He'd been a dad for four months; he'd missed out on four months of his daughter's life? He should have been here sooner, should have known. He'd left Rebecca his number, why hadn't she called him? She shouldn't have had to be alone through everything, and Isabel shouldn't have had to be parentless for the past few weeks.
After a not so brief pause, Dean looks back up at Amber and speaks; his voice deep and sad. "Do you think you could make that visitation call now?" Amber nods and meets his eyes, still surprised that he hadn't immediately asked for the papers to give away his kid like all the other guys do without even giving it a second thought. "I'll try and get a meeting as soon as possible." She picks up the phone and quickly dials out a number, talking to the person on the other line for several minutes about how soon they could arrange a meeting. "Would half an hour work for you Mr. Winchester?"
Dean blinks, a little surprised and suddenly unnerved by the suddenness of the visitation. "Uh, thirty minutes? Uh, yeah…yeah that's fine." he manages to get out. Amber smiles at him and says a few last words to the voice at the other end of the line before hanging up. "Alright, that's all arranged now, but there's going to be some paperwork that needs to be filled out eventually if you're going to accept your legal custody of her." She digs around in her files for a few moments before pulling out the form he'll need to sign. "Now I want you to take this with you, read through it, make sure you understand everything and know what's going on before you sign it." Dean nods and takes the form, eyeing it warily; already beginning to think that maybe coming here hadn't been one of his best ideas.
Amber pointed out a few specific important things he would need to look at on the form before he signed any of it, and then stood up from her desk. "You can follow me to the orphanage where your daughter is being kept."
"Orphanage," Dean repeats, pushing back another wave of guilt that he hadn't gotten here sooner. "Um, right, ok." He stands up and follows her out into the hall, through the lobby and out of the building. She points out her car to him, saying that as long as he followed behind her, he wouldn't get lost.
Once she's made sure he was in his car and ready, Amber starts up her own car and pulls out onto the road, heading toward the orphanage, checking periodically to make sure that Dean was still following her in his older model black Impala.
The drive only took a few minutes, and had seemed even shorter for Dean as his thoughts consumed his mind, and when they arrived at the orphanage; he parks beside Amber's car and steps out, looking up at the shabby, run-down building. He takes a breath and looks over at Amber. "I'm ready."
Amber nods, and beckons him to follow her inside, leading him to the front desk where he had to sign in before then leading him back through the maze of halls to the nursery area. She leads him over to a crib in the far corner, and looks down at the baby. "Isabel, meet Dean Winchester. Dean, meet your daughter, Isabel." And when Dean finally looks down at the child inside the crib, his heart melts as he meets a pair of bright green eyes; wide, a mirror image of his own.
Innocent eyes looked up at them, a small giggle coming from the crib as Dean turned to Amber. "Can I…can I hold her?" He asks, unable to stop himself from asking the simple question; he wants to hold his daughter. He knows he shouldn't, but he can't help it. He is already falling in love with her.
Amber smiles and is already picking her up, cradling her gently as she hands her to Dean. Dean holds her, holds his daughter, close, tight, almost afraid she would disappear. He looks down again at those beautiful eyes, and he's scared. He's scared to stay, he's scared to go. He's scared to leave her, but even more, he's scared to keep her. The thoughts start racing unbidden through his mind. What if I do keep her? What if something happens to her because I'm gone on a hunt? What if something happens because I am there, and a demon attacks? What is Sam going to say? But what if I leave her here? This place is horrible. It's no place for a child to grow up. At least me and Sam, we had the motel rooms, the edible food, each other. But here, she's not getting any attention. God, what am I going to do?? He swallows hard, unable to look away from those eyes.
Dean finally pulls his eyes away from the perfect baby in his arms and looks up to Amber. "Can I have the other set of papers?" he stops, clearing his throat when his voice breaks on the words. "The ones that hand over custody of her?"
Amber sighs and looks up from Isabel. She'd done this many times before; it was part of her job. She'd seen too many irresponsible parents leave their kids in places like this, places they didn't deserve to be left in, because the parents didn't want to have any more responsibility. She'd thought he would be different when she first met him, and especially when she saw how he looked at his daughter; the love so evident in his eyes. "Yes, of course. They're out in my car."
"Thanks," Dean mumbles as he lays Isabel back in her crib, careful to avoid looking directly at her again. If he had to leave her, it was already going to be hard enough. He straightens back up and turns to face Amber. For a moment, he thinks he catches a glimpse of disappointment in her eyes, or maybe it was disapproval? Either way, it only added to the already growing guilt he was having about even asking for the papers.
Amber leads him back to the front desk, and he signs out before following her out to her car. She grabs a file out of her trunk, and opens it up, pulling out a form similar to the one he already had, but one that held a much different power if signed. He quietly thanks her before grabbing the form and tucking it in his pocket. "I'll need a form back within the next week; otherwise she'll automatically be confirmed into the system." Amber says before tossing the file back in and closing her trunk.
Dean nods slightly. "Sure, I'll call you in the next few days, I-, I just, I need to think about it."
"I understand, it's a big decision," Amber says as she stretches out her hand and shakes his. "It was nice to meet you Mr. Winchester; I'll be looking forward to hearing from you soon."
"Thanks for your help," Dean smiles, the worry still shadowing his face as he turns and walks to his car. He gives Amber one last weak smile before climbing in to the car and pulling out of the parking lot.
As Dean pulls up in front of the motel and parks, he's still waging an internal battle over what to do, and has finally come to the conclusion that, fuck, he doesn't want to admit this, but he needs Sam's help. He has to recognize that whatever his decision is, could affect Sam just as much as himself or Isabel, and he's got to respect that. "Fuck," he mutters to himself as he slings the Impala door open and steps out onto the warm pavement. He pats his coat pocket, double checking that he still had both forms, before taking a deep breath and walking to the door, preparing himself to face a more than likely irate Sam.
Sam had been pacing the small area of floor in front of the two twin size beds that were in the motel room when Dean opened the door. "Where the hell have you been?!" He asks stopping to glare at Dean.
"I told you. I went to the library," Dean replies distractedly as he steps into the room, closing the door behind him.
"Bullshit," Sam snaps, taking the few steps to reach his brother. "Tell me the truth! Something is going on with you and has been for several days now! I want you to tell me right now what the hell is going on!!"
Dean growls deep in his throat and digs his fingertips into his palms, making tight fists, but determined not to swing. Sam is right, and Dean did intend to tell him what had been going on. "I…I had to, to see about some personal business Sam."
"Personal business? Like what Dean? What was so important that we ignored that chupacabra case down in Texas, huh? You know it killed again last night? So tell me Dean, what exactly was it that was more important than that guy's life??"
"I'm a dad…" Dean blurts out, and damn it that was really not how he'd planned to tell Sam, but there it was between them now, and all he can do now is brace himself for Sam's reaction.
Sam looks at Dean, not believing it for a second "Bullshit Dean. Stop lying and tell the damn truth for once!"
Dean glares at Sam and can't help it when his voice rises to almost a yell. "Why the hell would I make that up?!" He pinches the bridge of his nose with his fingers, trying to push the oncoming headache away. After a few moments he starts to dig around in his coat pocket pulling out the custody papers and throwing them down on the bed in front of Sam. "Damn it, Sam. It's the truth."
Dean watches through narrowed eyes as Sam cautiously reaches for the papers, picking them up, his eyes flicking back and forth across the text. "Oh my god," he breaths out, his voice barely a whisper. It seems like forever to Dean before Sam finally looks back up at Dean. "Dean, I…I don't know what to say here. What," he pauses, trying to organize his thoughts. "What are you going to do? Is this about child support? Or something else? I mean, why did they suddenly track you down?"
"They want me to take, or give, custody of her," Dean says as he sits down on the edge of one of the beds and looks up at Sam. "Something," he stops, trying to keep his voice from breaking over the words, "Something happened to her mom, and now, now I'm her only chance for anything better than an orphanage."
Sam looks over at Dean, seeing the unusual amount of emotion, what he usually blocks out from everyone, clearly showing on his face, Worry, fear, guilt, but surprisingly not the regret Sam had expected there to be. "Dean, what are you going to do?" He couldn't even begin to imagine having to make that decision. "What's her name?"
Dean smiles a little as he looks up at Sam. "Her name is Isabel. Sam, you should have seen her, she's beautiful. She…" he pauses again, clearing his throat to cover the slight quaver in his voice. "Sam, she has my eyes."
Sam notices the way his brother's eyes light up the moment he mentions Isabel, and he knows right then that whatever Dean chooses to do about this it'll be what he honestly thinks is best for his daughter.
"So you saw her huh? How old is she?" He asks not pushing Dean on the subject of deciding about custody right now, he obviously needed time to think it over.
Dean looks up, the recent light still in his eyes "She's almost four months. She was so perfect Sam. I-I'm just not sure what I should do."
"Well, we uh, we don't exactly live the best life to raise a kid in Dean." Sam says, but after seeing the flash of pain through Dean's eyes, he quickly adds on "But dad did okay with us. I'm sure something could be worked out; it'd just be a big change. For both of us."
Dean sighs and dips his head down, elbows on his knees, resting the heels of his hands against his forehead. "I know Sam, I know. I never wanted this life for you, and I don't want to bring her into it, but that place, it was horrible. She…she was shoved off in a corner; no one was even watching her! And there were so many kids there; I just know she's not getting any attention. Christ Sammy, I have no idea what to do! I can't leave her there. No way is that an option. But this life, I don't know."
"Look, I know you haven't gotten much sleep in the past several days, maybe you should just sleep on it? I mean, this is a really big decision, it'd probably be better if you make it once you've gotten some rest," Sam says reassuringly as he sets the papers down on the night stand between their beds. "Try and get some sleep, alright? And if you wanna talk some more in the morning or anything, I'm here okay?"
"Thanks Sam," Dean says with a small nod and a weak smile, knowing he'd be getting little to no sleep that night; knowing that he wouldn't be able to stop thinking about his daughter.
Sam smiles back, and gives Dean's shoulder a reassuring squeeze before crawling into his own bed and pulling the covers up. He leaves the light on for Dean, knowing that no matter what he says or does; Dean wasn't going to be getting to sleep any time soon. This was something that was just too big. He rolls over onto his side, facing away from Dean to give him some privacy to think.
Dean lies back, fully clothed and not bothering to remove the covers as his thoughts consume him once again. He has a daughter; a perfect little baby girl.
What seems to him like minutes later, he turns to look at the clock. The neon green lights flash 3:42 am. He'd been laying there completely enveloped in his thoughts for hours, and he finally knows what he has to do.
He sits back up, rubbing at his eyes and looking over at the papers where Sam had set them on the nightstand. He reaches over, grabbing them and walking over to the small desk in the corner of the room. He sits down and grabs a pen as he separates the forms and carefully regards each one. He takes a deep breath, holding it, as he presses pen to paper, scrawling out his signature, praying that he's made the right decision.