FOREVER AND A DAY
hello everyone. So, writer's block has attacked-- i am working on 'door in the dark' and am so sorry it's been taking so long, but my brain is just no cooperating. So, I've turned to a few one shots that have been floating through my head. This contains spoilers for season 4, which i think has been absolutely brilliant so far. as always, enjoy and let me know what you think.
D: just for fun.
"Come on, Sammy, Bobby didn't give you any info?" Dean asked, taking his eyes off the road for a moment to give his little brother the 'look'.
"Dean, I told you all I know. Bobby called and asked if we could swing by."
"Sam, we don't just swing by places for the hell of it."
"Well maybe we should."
"What, why?"
"Cause it's normal, Dean. In the real world people stop by each other's houses even when the world isn't in danger."
"Yeah well, last I checked we didn't really live in the real world."
"Doesn't mean we can't try." Sam mumbled under his breath, making Dean grip the steering wheel harder. Sam had been sulking a lot since Dean had made his miraculous return from hell and, in truth, the older man was getting tired of it. Something was missing between them, and it had been ever since he'd been brought back— and Dean knew exactly what it was. They weren't brothers anymore, at least not like they had been.
There was a time when Dean knew each and every thought that raced through his little brother's mind. He knew what each sigh meant, knew when his brother was having a nightmare long before the dream woke him. He knew Sammy. But ever since returning, Sammy was more of a stranger, and that fact left Dean floundering. Their lives had gone so far off the normal meter Dean couldn't even find the beginning of the path back to where they had once been.
They were battling along side angels now, fighting hell in a race to stop the apocalypse— what part of that was even on the same planet as normal? No, Dean thought, glancing again at his brother, there was a barrier between them now, something Dean couldn't explain, but still needed to get past.
"Alright, Samantha, we'll play happy homemaker."
"You don't have to be such a killjoy about it." Sam shot back, though there was no malice in his voice.
"So seriously, no hunt?"
"As far as I know no hunt."
"What the hell's Bobby up to, then? You think he's ok?"
"Yeah, I mean, why wouldn't he be?" Sam stumbled over his words.
"I don't know, how'd he sound."
"Normal."
"No messages, no hidden clues?"
"No, Dean, he called and asked where we were and if would could swing by, that's it."
"You think it's really Bobby?"
Sam sighed, rolling his eyes at his brother's questioning. "Yes, Dean, I think it's Bobby."
"I'm just saying, we've been tricked before. Better safe than sorry, you know."
"So what, you wanna bust into Bobby's house guns blazing?" Sam smirked, earning another scowl from his brother.
"Whatever, Sam, just don't come crying to me when some weird supernatural baddie makes you its bitch."
"Aw, Dean, you're all heart."
They spent the rest of the drive in comfortable silence, Sam lost in the 'book of the moment' and Dean's mind jumping from one random thought to another. It was as close to their former lives as Dean thought they'd ever get. On that car drive there were no demons, no seals, no angels, no possibly evil brother or demented 'do-gooder' demons. No, at that moment it was just Sam and Dean, and the elder Winchester wished they could stay like that forever. They were brothers, family, and as safe as they could ever hope to be.
Dean wasn't naive, though, he knew what was out there in the dark. The stakes had been raised, and for the first time in his life, Dean was afraid he wouldn't be able to save his brother. Even when Sam left for college, Dean still felt like he could watch out for him, keep him safe— but now, now things were different. Sam had become something unrecognizable, and Dean didn't know what to do. Worst of all, there were still traces of 'Sammy' beneath it all. Yeah, some would say that was good, but to Dean it was like a shot in the heart. It meant his little brother wasn't possessed, wasn't a shifter, wasn't a creature— it meant that despite it all, the man before him was still Sam.
But this Sam wasn't a 'mathlete' wasn't a geeky college kid— no, the Sam sitting beside him was the man who could exorcize demons with his mind. And if Sam could do that, who knew what else was hiding inside him, waiting for a chance to break free. Hell, all this started ten years before Sam was even born, and even heaven couldn't figure out what the Yellow Eyed Demon's plans were. Dean still couldn't wrap his mind around that one fact— even God didn't know what Sam was.
God was supposed to know everything, supposed to have made the world, be all seeing, all powerful, and yet he was being stumped by Sam Winchester. Dean glanced again at his little brother, the familiar shaggy hair blocking his eyes— the younger man lost to the book open on his lap. Dean was losing him, even while Sam sat by his side. He knew Sam said he was done with it all, knew his brother wasn't going to go down 'that road' anymore, but Dean didn't know if he could believe that. It wasn't that Sam was being intentionally misleading— it was that the other side knew exactly what to say to get Sam to follow them.
It was the same with the spirit back at Our Lady of the Angels. Father Gregory knew what Sam wanted most in the world, could see into the kid's very open heart, and Ruby was doing the exact same thing. Sam wanted to be saved. Anger rose up in Dean as he gripped the steering wheel. Sam wanted to be saved, the very thing Dean had sworn his life to do, the same thing he'd failed at time and time again. No matter what Dean did the demons still got Sam, still stole him away piece by piece. And now his father's final words were swirling around Dean once again.
"If you can't save Sammy, Dean, then you're going to have to stop him. You're going to have to kill him."
Why was it always Dean that had to stop Sam? John left him alone with the job and now an angel had pulled him from hell for what?— to stop his brother. Sam had real evil inside him. Not a demon that could be exorcized, not a spell that could be reversed, but pure base evil literally running through his veins. And Sam was doing whatever he could to save himself, and each and every path he was guided down was lined with danger. The demons and devils of the world knew of Sam's desire to set things right, his need to make the world better, to save people, and they all used that against him.
"Dean?" Sam's quiet voice broke through Dean's mind like a sledgehammer. "Uh, Bobby's house was back there."
"Huh? I know that," Dean bit back, pulling a u-turn faster than was probably safe. "I was just testing you."
Sam just watched him, and Dean could feel himself slinking down into the seat. He didn't like when people looked at him, it freaked him out, and Sammy with his I-know-everything Sammy eyes just made it all the worse. "What?"
"Are you sure you're ok. I mean, the last few week—."
"I'm fine, Sam." Dean interrupted, not wanting to relive the last few weeks of their lives. If it was at all possible things had become even more complicated.
"Dean—."
"I'm fine, Sam." Dean ground out again.
"Yeah, sure you are." Sam mumbled, growing quiet as they approached the house.
Both brothers looked at each other as they pulled up, Dean starting to think something really was wrong with Bobby. The older hunter was sitting on the front porch, reclining in one of the old rockers, his feet up on the railing, dog by his side. It looked like a scene out of a weird hillbilly horror movie.
"Isn't that the way the bad guys look right before they eat the heros?" Dean asked, earning an eye roll from Sam. "What?"
"Your mind seriously is twisted."
"No, it's not."
"Just for like, an hour, I'd love to see how your brain works."
"Dude, you wouldn't last an hour in my head."
"That scary a place?" Sam smirked, climbing from the car.
"Aren't you funny." Dean shot back, he too climbing from the Impala.
"Hey, Boys." Bobby smiled, standing and retrieving two beers from a cooler by his side, the semi-enclosed front porch blocking out the cold night.
"Hey, Bobby." Sam began, taking a beer before glancing at Dean.
"You alright, Bobby?" Dean asked, mimicking Sam.
"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"
"It's just, we get a call to come out here and you're sitting on the porch with beer."
"Something wrong with that now?"
"No, beer is good— very good. It's just, why'd you call us all the way out here?"
Bobby glanced back and forth between the two of them, looking just as lost as the brothers. "You thought I forgot?"
"Uh, no." Sam jumped in, though he looked a little bit like a fish out of water. "No, of course not."
"Yeah, I mean, no you wouldn't forget." Dean stammered, finding a little bit of comfort in the fact that Sam also had no clue what Bobby was talking about.
"Just thought a little celebration was in order, after the past year and all."
"Right, right." Sam mumbled, taking a nervous sip of beer.
"You two alright, you look like deer caught in the headlights." Bobby eyed them suspiciously.
"We're fine." Sam began quickly, taking another swig of beer as Bobby turned his attention to Dean.
Dean wasted no time kicking his brother in the shin before turning his full attention to Bobby— if Sam wasn't gonna come clean it was up to him. "Bobby, we have no idea what you're talking about."
"You're pulling my leg, right."
"Sorry." Sam answered lamely. "But we're lost."
A sad look crossed Bobby's face, the older man staring down the two young hunters before him in a way that made Dean feel like a scolded school-boy. Something big had obviously gone down, or was supposed to go down, but it was obviously something the pair of them were supposed to remember. Bobby just sighed before turning his back on the brothers, Dean exchanging a nervous glance with Sam as the mechanic rummaged around behind the chair for something. He stood a few moments later with a crudely wrapped package.
"Happy Birthday, Dean." he smiled sadly, handing the box to Dean.
Dean just stared at it, completely lost. "Bobby, my birthday's not for like, a month or something." Dean stuttered, looking back over at his brother.
Sam was looking between Dean and Bobby, a look of complete shock and embarrassment flashing across his face.
"It was two days ago, Dean." Bobby answered quietly. "But you two've had a lot going on."
"Dean—." Sam answered, opening and closing his mouth as he tried to find the right words. "I'm, I can't believe."
"It's alright, Sammy. I mean, hell it was my birthday and I didn't even know."
"Yeah, but Dean, your thirtieth birthday. I mean, that's pretty freaking huge."
"Don't kick yourself, Sam."
"You two both really forgot?" Bobby asked, a small smile growing across his face. "And here I though I was the old senile one."
"My birthday was seriously two days ago?" Dean asked again, still completely amazed that he'd not only forgotten his own birthday but what month he was currently in.
"Twenty fourth of January, unless you up and changed it on me. It's some tools for the car." Bobby added, nodding to the package Dean had still yet to open. "Come on, got dinner and some more beers inside."
Dean followed Bobby and Sam into the house, opening the gift as he walked. He could see the guilt written all over his little brother's face as Sam took a seat on the old sofa. Sam was always the one that made a big deal about birthdays and holidays, and he was always the one to throw the fact that Dad had forgotten them right back in the older man's face. And now he'd forgotten not only Dean's thirtieth birthday, but a birthday his big brother was never supposed to have.
Dean had made the deal for Sam's life at the age of twenty-eight, and he'd only been given one more year to live. Twenty-nine years were all the years he was supposed to have. And here, now Dean was sitting by his brother's side, celebrating the big three-zero, and Sam had forgotten. Whether it was because they were preoccupied with the coming war, or Sam was still fighting against his 'demon-blood' Dean didn't know, but he knew Sam was currently beating himself up.
"You're not gonna be all sulky during my party. Cause, you know, its my party, you can't cry if you want to."
"Did you just quote Cindy Lauper?"
"At least I didn't point that fact out out loud."
"Dean, man I'm sorry."
"You don't have to be sorry, Sam. We've been a little busy."
"I never forgot your birthday before. Even last year—."
"There's a first time for everything."
"Speaking of first times, Bobby said dinner, you don't think—."
"Dude, I just came back to life, you don't think he'd put my life in jeopardy by cooking?"
"You know I can hear both of you." Bobby's voice drifted in from the kitchen, making both Sam and Dean snicker.
"We're just commenting on your domestication." Sam offered, looking up innocently as Bobby entered the room.
"You're lucky I like both of you. And I didn't cook, ordered out."
"What'd you get?"
"Burgers, wings, bbq chicken and a couple sides."
"Did you get a birthday cake?" Dean asked, sounding a lot like an eager ten year old.
"Yes, Dean, but only if you behave yourself."
"I always behave myself."
Bobby smiled when Sam nearly chocked on his beer at his brother's statement. "What, I was always the good kid."
"You keep telling yourself that, Dean."
"It's not my fault Dad could read you like a book, Sammy."
"He could not, you just sold me out."
"I would never."
"Oh no, Sioux Falls, 1997."
A smile spread across Dean's face at the date, that had been a good year. "Oh yeah, awkward little Sammy."
"Wasn't that the year you showed up here with mange?" Bobby asked, his voice deadly serious despite the smile.
"I did not have mange, Dean put nair in my shampoo."
"That's the year with Celia Baker."
"Oh yeah," Bobby's smile grew while Sam's face reddened. "The pretty brunette."
"Sam's first crush. He stole the Impala for her." Dean smirked, the memories flooding back.
"I did not steal the Impala, I borrowed it."
"Dude, you were fourteen, you couldn't drive."
"Yes, I could."
"Technically, I'm talking legally here."
"Legally doesn't count."
"I've waited all my life to here you say that, Sammy."
"Whatever, you didn't even cover for me, Dean."
"Yes, I did."
"You told Dad a revenant took the car."
"What? It was a valid excuse."
"Why the hell would a zombie steal the car, Dean?"
"Cause it needed to get somewhere. Last I checked the things can't fly."
"Alright," Sam challenged, sitting up straighter. "Michigan, 2001."
"Dude, not funny."
"What happened in Michigan?" Bobby asked, a genuinely heartwarming smile plastered across his face.
"Dad was hunting a black dog, remember." Sam prompted.
Bobby's eyes grew wide as he laughed. "Wasn't that the killer basset hound?"
"Yes." Dean mumbled, sinking into the chair.
"It was the first time Dad let Dean research a hunt on his own."
"It looked legit."
"It looked legit 'cause Stacy Parcel was there."
"Dude, I am not that shallow. I didn't know Stacy was there."
"Oh no, so it's just a coincidence that you chose a hunt in the same town the girl moved to for college."
"Even if it was on purpose, it still wasn't my fault. I mean, that girl was 'well-endowed' how was a man like me supposed to pass that up."
"Didn't your Daddy end up in the hospital on that hunt?" Bobby asked, obviously trying to keep up with the many women that seemed to rule the younger two Winchesters.
At the mechanic's statement both Sam and Dean broke out into fits of laughter, tears sliding down their faces as the memory of the ill fated hunt came back to them. "Oh yeah, he had to get shots."Dean gasped, holding his side. "Sammy—."
"Don't blame that on me." Sam laughed, that strange high-pitched laugh of his brother's bringing back even more memories for Dean.
"Dad made both Sam and I go on the hunt, even though we'd already figured out there wasn't actually a hunt. Oh god, Sam, do you remember that. I had to freaking forge like ten different news articles."
"Dad was so serious, he kept saying we had to put an end to "Floppers"."
"Floppers?"
"Dean named the freaking thing Floppers in one of the news articles and Dad just kept saying it. He even mumbled something about stupid reporters. So, we're at this abandoned house—."
"Where'd you guys get the dog from in the first place."
"Oh, that was real." Dean added, his fit of laughter ending long enough for him to speak. "There was this dog terrorizing the town so I kind of piggy backed on the idea. But, you know, I read all this I thought the dog was gonna be a pit bull or something. Not a freaking hound dog."
"The dog was on the stairs, remember."
"Oh yeah, we were trying to get it to run without Dad seeing us."
"It just sat there, oh god, Dad thought we were on drugs."
"Oh I forgot that, he was checking our eyes and everything. Then, then—."
"Then Floppers bit him in the ass."
"Oh man, I thought I was gonna die."
"The dog wouldn't let go, and Dad just kept spinning and trying to hit it."
"Shit, I think I stayed in the next town over for like a week."
"I thought you two came here right after?" Bobby asked, wrapped up in the memory.
"Nah, Sammy and I got a motel room in the next town over. We didn't know whether to be relieved or freaked when Dad didn't come looking."
"Dude, there was like three days when we wouldn't even leave the room. It was eventually starve or venture outside."
"Yeah, we covered each other in the mini-mart, we looked like Charlie's Angels wannabes."
"Dad was probably watching us the whole time. I still can't believe we never got in trouble for that."
"Well, we came here after that, by the time we hooked up with Dad again he was on another hunt. Then you left a few month later." Dean's smiled faltered a little with the memory.
It had been one of the last good memories he'd had with his family. Sam had gone to college a few short months later, and then it had been years before Dean saw him again. It was the last time all three of them were together when none of them were being hunted, or turned, or dying. They were just being themselves, just being a family, and even though it had only been eight years since that night, to Dean it may as well have been another lifetime.
"More beer?" Dean cleared his throat, the laughter dying down to a strained silence after his last statement.
"Hand away from the cake." Bobby called back as Dean left the room.
"I still think I should be allowed to lick the icing off my own cake."
"Yeah, well when you learn self control we'll talk. Last time you did it you were sick for a week."
"I was nine." Dean smirked, putting his arms up in mock surrender before turning into the kitchen, sliding the door closed a bit out of habit.
"Happy Birthday, Dean."
Dean spun at the voice, his heart hammering in his chest as his eyes landed on a familiar form. "Come to tell me I gotta kill my brother again?"
"No, this is just a social call." Castiel smiled serenely.
"You guys do that?"
"We're not always the bearers of bad news."
"So what, you come by to play peeping Tom?"
"Celebrations are a wonderful thing, Dean, I just came by to add in my voice."
"Oh well, thanks." Dean shifted nervously. He still felt a bit out of place talking with an angel.
"Enjoy the day, Dean."
"Easy for you to say, you're not the one everyone's ordering to kill his brother."
"I didn't say kill Sam, I said stop him. There's a difference, Dean."
"Can I ask you something?"
"Always."
"Can I save him? I mean, is it really possible or is this all some freaking test. Or maybe you all get off screwing with our lives."
"There's always a chance, Dean. As long as we believe— anythings possible."
"So I could really be batman?"
Dean was surprised when Castiel actually seemed to laugh at the statement. "Maybe not anything."
"I've failed him." Dean began, looking back out into the living room. Bobby and Sam were laughing about another story the pair had brought up, their minds blissfully unaware of the Sammy killing angel hanging out in the kitchen.
"If you did, none of us would be here."
"What's the supposed to mean?"
"It means that sometimes the most insignificant seeming moments can be the moments that save us."
Dean looked back out into the living room, watching his brother laugh. It was the first time Dean had seen the younger man smile in who knew how long. Hell, it was the first time Sam had really smiled since Dean was brought back. Their lives had been nothing but darkness and turmoil since Castiel stepped in, and Dean was afraid they'd never find the light again.
But here, now, sitting in Bobby's living room they'd found it. There, shinning before him was a light, a hope, and the possibility that maybe not all was lost. Dean was alive, and Sam was laughing over old times, smiling and joking and being his brother— the same brother he'd always been. There was no demon blood that night, no apocalypse, no seals, no Lilith, no Ruby. There was just Dean, Sam and Bobby drinking beer and telling stories and celebrating a birthday.
Dean turned back to Castiel but the angel was gone, leaving the hunter alone in the dark kitchen. For the first time since waking in the coffin Dean didn't feel like he was suffocating, didn't feel afraid. He was just himself, the memories of his life no longer haunting. He heard his brother's laugh again, and Dean smiled— where there was life there was hope and maybe, just maybe he and Sam could still save each other.