Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural. See The CW.
Note: This chapter's up quicker than I thought. I made it longer than the last one. I'll get started on the next one now. Hope you enjoy!
Chapter 2
Dean pulled into a small town after driving for hours and hours. He'd been on the road for two days. He knew that Jo would have the police issue an APB out on him, so he wanted to get as far away as possible before he did anything.
He'd only stopped occasionally and that was for gas and to empty his bank account. He didn't want to use his card and allow the police to track him down. He almost hadn't emptied the account, thinking about leaving all his money to Sam and Jo, but something in the back of his mind had told him to take out the money. It had said that if he did do something stupid like kill himself, then when they found his body and the impala, they could give all the money to Sam then. It'd seemed like a reasonable plan, so he'd went with it.
He wasn't sure what he was going to do with himself so he pulled into a small bar near the outskirts of town. Walking inside, he found the place nearly deserted save for some bar flies he figured where usually there.
He took a seat on a stool and ordered a beer from the bartender. As he sipped it, he couldn't get Sam's words out of his head. "Look who's the coward now!"
His grip on the bottle tightened. Maybe he was a coward. Maybe he couldn't take it anymore. Maybe he couldn't live with himself for being tricked so easily and by so many people close to him. Hell, for all he knew, everyone in his life could have known about it and decided not to tell him.
A small part of him knew that he was being a big baby about everything, but it stung, badly. Learning the truth had ripped him apart. He hadn't known who to trust or even if he could trust anyone.
"You look like you could use some company."
Dean looked up into the eyes of the man who'd served him the beer. They were the brightest blue Dean had ever seen. They appeared to be kind, trusting, but so had hers.
"Don't think I'm much company at the moment."
The man shrugged lightly and made a small sweep of the bar. "You're more talkative than the rest of these fellows. All they do is sit there and stare into their shot glass or watch the tv without so much as uttering a word besides what type of alcohol they'd like next."
Dean chuckled darkly, knowing how they felt suddenly. "Can't say I blame them. They're probably looking for a way to escape their demons."
"And are you? Trying to escape your demons?"
Dean looked back up at him and shrugged. "Isn't that what most people go to a bar for?"
The man tilted his head the slightest bit. "You have a point. The trick is to not run from them forever. I know a thing or two about that, believe me."
"Who says I'm running?"
One of the man's eyebrows quirked half an inch up his forehead. "This is a pretty small town where just about everybody knows everybody. I've lived here for a couple of years now and I've never seen you before. It's not like this is a major stop on a highway that attracts a lot of tourists. It's an out of the way town you come across if you're on crumbling highways and back roads. Either you know someone who lives here and you're visiting them, or you're running from something and you somehow managed to wind up here. Now, if you were visiting someone, my best guess would be that you'd be with them and enjoying it instead of sitting here with that look on your face. So, my conclusion is that you're running from something. Now the real question is: what?"
Dean snorted. "You're good, I'll give you that."
The man resisted smirked, leaning forward on his elbows. "I'm Castiel."
Dean hesitated a long moment, wondering if he should give him his real name in case the cops happened to come looking for him. He figured he was in a town far enough out of the way that there would be no chance in hell they'd find him here. "Dean."
"I'd say it's nice to meet you, Dean, but you look like hell and it's obvious nothing good brought you here."
He grunted, taking a swig of his beer. "You could say that."
The man nodded. "How long you stayin'?"
Dean thought about it. It was a loaded question. The man had been innocent about it, but there was nothing innocent about that question, not in this case.
He settled for shrugging his shoulders. "Not long."
Something flashed in Castiel's eyes that Dean couldn't catch before it flicked out. He was staring Dean down hard, trying to get a feel for him. Usually Dean was pretty good about keeping eye contact, but he wasn't up to the challenge so he looked away, staring down at his beer bottle. He took another long sip, draining most of it.
"You know, small towns can be good for escaping demons. There's not a constant thrum that makes you feel like you're drowning. You can actually hear yourself think. And the people are pretty decent."
"I don't know if I'll be staying long enough to find out."
Castiel nodded, obviously thinking over his words before he said them. "I think you're a small town kind of guy. Or, the very least, could become one. Maybe all you need is a chance at a fresh start. Leave your old life behind for a while and live for you. It seems like it could do wonders for you."
Dean's eyes lifted to meet his. He thought over his words. Could it even be possible to start over? Get a new chance at life without the past pressing down at him, threatening to crush him.
"Maybe. Who knows."
It wasn't long before people starting coming into the bar, averting Castiel's attention away from Dean. It gave Dean a chance to think without being disturbed. Maybe the man was right. Maybe that's all he needed was a second chance. Maybe he could just leave his past in the past and move on, finish that song, meet some new people, find a job, find a life.
Suddenly, that's all he wanted. He wanted that second chance. The thought of taking the easy way out was still nudging at his mind, trying to get him to take that step, but so was the possibility that he could get a fresh start at everything. He could find an apartment, get a job, make new friends. He had enough money to last him a while without a job.
His mind flew back to Sam and the rest of his family back home. He knew they were worried sick about him. He'd had to turn his phone off and take the battery out so that they would stop calling and that way they couldn't track the gps in his phone. He knew he should let them know he was okay, but part of him wanted to make them suffer like he had done.
After a while of debating with himself, he reasoned that once he found a place and got settled, started a new life here, he would let them know he was okay. It would be right thing for him to do. They were his family after all, no matter what had happened. Sam meant the world to him, as did Jo, Ellen, and Bobby. He couldn't imagine hurting them to the point of letting them think he might be dead, but never know for sure. He couldn't do that to them.
He stayed for another hour, drinking another beer, before closing his tab and leaving the bar. He saw Castiel's eyes follow him as he walked away, but wasn't sure what to make of it. He seemed sincere and also concerned. What he couldn't understand was why he was concerned for a complete stranger.
SPN
"I'm going out of my mind. I have no idea if he's even alive. You'd think he would have called by now or come back…sent a text…something."
Jo sighed, running a hand through her messy hair. "You heard what the cops said. There's a good chance that…that he won't be coming back. He's been gone for four days, Sam. His phone is either off or he trashed it. Either he just needs some time to cool off and come to his senses, or…we may never see him again. I know that's hard to accept…It's hard for me to accept…but we were really hard on him. I don't blame him, at all."
Sam whirled on her. "How can you say that?! He was moping around like a little kid, for Heaven's sake!"
She nodded, keeping calm. "I know that, but he had every right to be moping. Look at what had just happened to him. He had just lost three very important people in his life and not because they were suddenly killed in some freak accident. All three of them betrayed him. He had every right to act the way he did, especially after the way we acted. I'm not happy with what happened any more than you are. I love Dean just as much as you do and don't even try to say that I don't. He's my big brother too even if we aren't related. Remember what Bobby always says?"
Sam sighed, running a hand down his face. "Blood doesn't make family."
"Exactly. Now, let's stop and really think about this. This is Dean we're talking about, okay? I don't care how mopey and depressed he is…Do you really think he's capable of killing himself? Just running off somewhere where no one knows where he is and ending his life? Alone?"
Sam stared at her, thinking about his big brother. "Not until I saw the look in his eyes and heard what he had to say. After that? I really don't know. He apologized to me, Jo. He said he's not the man I want him to be. What the hell did he mean by that?"
Jo shrugged helplessly. "It sounds to me like he's disappointed in himself for not having caught it sooner, for letting himself be tricked by them. I don't blame him, I would be too. I'm not saying I blame him for not catching it, but…I'd be a wreck if I were in his shoes. I'd also have some pretty epic trust issues to work through."
Sam sat down on the couch, burying his face in his hands. "What worries me is how he handled it. He didn't drink his liver into failure. He didn't go out and have pointless sex or go to a strip club. He didn't snap everyone's head off every chance he got or bury himself so far deep in trouble he couldn't see daylight. He was silent. He barely talked. He buried himself in that song he was working on that he couldn't even come up with words for. That right there was weird. He can always come up with lyrics, no matter what's going on. I've never seen him struggle with words like that. It was unnerving. He just kept playing the same melody over and over again."
Jo nodded, thinking over Dean's behavior. "I haven't either. He always knows what to say. Maybe he's too focused on what happened to really concentrate, I don't know. Maybe one day we'll find out."
SPN
Dean grunted as he set down his end of the couch. Every day he'd been in the quiet little town, he'd gone to the bar. Less and less of it had been to actually get drunk and more of it had to do with the new friend he'd made: Castiel. After he'd finally found an apartment he liked, and basically squatted for a few days while he tracked down some furniture, he'd asked Cas to help him move everything in. Cas had accepted, of course, and even brought in some friends of his own to help.
Dean stood and wiped sweat from his forehead. "Well, all that's left to be brought up is the tv, the stand for it, a table, and a piano."
Cas was nodding along as Dean ticked off each item, but froze at the last one. His eyes widened. "A piano? We have to carry a piano up those stairs? You're kidding."
Dean smirked. "Nope. Don't worry though. It's not a grand piano. It's just a small console piano. Doesn't weigh all that much. As long as we have a spotter to make sure it doesn't tip over on us, we'll be good."
Cas sighed, flexing his sore muscles. "Okay, but I propose we take a short break before attempting that feat."
Dean smirked. "Deal. Let's go get the TV and the stand before we take it. Garth and Charlie can handle the table. Then we'll take the break. That way all we'll have left is the piano."
Cas nodded. "Sounds fair."
Everything had basically been delivered all at the same time that day so all of his furniture had been sitting on the sidewalk for the past couple of hours while they moved everything up into the apartment. Thankfully, Dean hadn't had to buy a fridge or stove, the apartment having come with them already, otherwise he didn't know how they would manage getting everything up the stairs. He could tell they were all as tired as he felt. He wasn't used to this much physical activity given he'd been a recording artist for the past few years. Granted, he worked out when he found the time, but it'd been quite a while since then.
They'd left a kid from Cas's apartment building with the furniture so no one walked away with anything, thinking it was all for free and not someone trying to move in. Dean had told all of them that once everything was moved in, he'd buy everyone something to eat as a way of thanking them for their help. When Cas had told him he'd asked a couple of friends to help, he was nervous about meeting them. He hadn't known what to expect.
When Garth had pulled up and opened his mouth, Dean hadn't known what to think. He'd glanced in Cas's way to see his eyes glistening with amusement. Once he started to really talk to Garth, he realized the guy was okay. He was a bit odd, but if that worked for him than what was his place to judge? Whatever got him through life, Dean supposed.
Now Charlie was another matter. From the very moment that Dean had met her, they had clicked. He was able to channel his inner nerd and geek out a bit while they talked. She was a seriously cool person. The more he talked to her, the more he found in common with her. He'd made a mental note to have her around more often.
Dean placed a hand on the TV and looked at the others. "Okay, I'll get the TV. I think Cas can handle that stand all on his own. If you two want to grab that table, that'd be great."
The group nodded and went for the items he'd suggested. He went up the stairs first, having been standing right next to his item. The tv was nothing special, but it worked and it had good quality. He'd already bought the DVD player and all the hookups he'd need. He wasn't going to get cable as he didn't watch TV enough for it.
It didn't take long to get everything up into the apartment and placed properly. Dean sank down on the couch, ready for that short break he'd allowed before they went back for the piano. "I think I could sleep for a week."
Cas chuckled, sitting down beside him. "I agree. I'm glad I have the day off tomorrow as well."
Dean nodded. He'd started a job at a local mechanics shop, having been taught everything he needed to know and then some about cars when he was growing up. His father had been a mechanic and had expected him to be one too, but he'd wanted to go into the music industry more, so that's what he'd done, until now. It'd made him chuckle a little when he'd gotten the job. His father would have been proud, not that he really cared what his father thought.
"What do we want to eat? Might as well order now that way it gets here by the time we get the piano up here."
Cas rested his head on the back of the couch, closing his eyes. "Pizza is fine with me."
Dean looked over at Garth and Charlie who were sitting on the loveseat he'd gotten. They both nodded, rattling off what kinds they liked. Dean nodded. "Okay, well, one of you is going to have to call because I don't know any pizza places around here yet, let alone their numbers."
Charlie pulled out her phone and dialed a number. She rattled off their order before stopping and looking at Dean. "Hey, Dean, what's your address again? I can't remember."
"266 East Lawrence street."
She repeated it into the phone before thanking them and hanging up. "Okay. It'll be here in half an hour. I suggest you two get a move on with that piano so we have plenty of time before it gets here."
Dean looked over at Cas who didn't seem to be too inclined to move. "You know, we can always do it later."
His eyes slid open and he lifted his head. "No, we can do it now. That way Ben can go home and stop sitting there on the sidewalk all afternoon. Let's get it over with and then we can rest some more."
"I like your reasoning, Cas."
Cas was halfway standing when he heard the nickname. He froze, falling back onto the couch. "Cas?"
Dean's eyes widened a fraction. "Yeah, uh, it's shorter than Castiel and easier to say. I've kind of been calling you that in my head since we met, but didn't know how you would feel about it so I kept my mouth shut. It kind of just slipped out. Sorry."
One of Cas's eyebrows rose and his lips turned into a smirk. "I am fine with the nickname, Dean. It just caught me by surprise because no one has ever given me a nickname before besides my brothers."
Dean nodded, pushing to his feet. "Alright then, Cas. Let's get a move on."
It had been nine days since Dean had last seen his brother. It'd been five since he'd given any conscious thought to ending his life. He immersed himself into his new life, his new apartment, new job, new friends. He didn't let himself think about Lisa or his parents. His mind frequently took him back to his brother and his family. He wondered how they were doing, how worried they were.
After Cas and the other left, Dean sat down and decided it was time to let his brother know how he was doing and that he was still alive.
He pulled out a notebook he'd picked up from the store, found a pen, and got to work.
Dear Sammy,
I know you're worrying about me. I'm sorry I made you and the others worry so much. It was never my intention. I'm still alive and I'm not going to kill myself. When I left that house, I had every intention of doing just that, but something changed my mind along the way from there to where I am now. I left a mess behind, I know, but Jo is fully capable of taking care of the studio. I have full confidence she can keep it running without me. I'm not coming back. Probably not ever. I've found a second chance, somewhere to start over. I know I'm hurting you and I'm sorry, but if I come back I'll only get worse. None of us want that. Bobby, Ellen, Jo…Mary and John…they're your family. They'll take good care of you. We both know that. Blood doesn't make family, as Bobby would say.
It's your job now to keep Jo in line and keep her out of trouble. Make sure Ellen doesn't have to handle Bobby alone. We both know they might strangle each other one day. God knows they love each other, but you never know. I wish I could say I'd see you soon or ever. Chances are, you'll never see me again. Don't bother calling or texting me. I dumped the phone a while back. I'm not leaving a return address because you deserve to get on with your life and move on from my mistakes. You'll always be my baby brother. I'll never forget watching you grow up and become the man you are. My best memory is watching you become someone to be proud of. Who knows, maybe someday fate will let us meet again. If that happens, I'll be a different person. Hopefully, I'll finally be someone you can be proud to call your brother. Until then…I have some things to work on.
I want you to know that I'm safe. I have a place, a job. I somehow managed to scrounge up some friends already. They're pretty great too, I know you'd like them. One of them's named Cas. He's great. Sarcastic son of a bitch, but he keeps me on my toes. Then there's Garth. If you ask me, he's a bit odd, but whatever. He's cool. And then Charlie who's as big of a nerd as I am. She's awesome. They could never replace you guys, you know that right? Jo will always be my little sister. Bobby will be second father until I die. Ellen is my second mother. And you will always be Sammy, my little brother and my best friend. I couldn't have gotten this far without you, Sammy.
Your words keep bouncing around inside my head. I was a coward. You were right. But I'm a coward who's trying to make something of myself and allow myself a second chance at something I couldn't have gotten back there. This isn't fair to you or to the others, I know, but it's the way it has to be. I guess I'll end this here before I made things worse than I already have. I love you, Sammy. Don't you ever forget that. I'm trying to be the man you thought I was, the man you want me to be, but more than that, I'm going to be the man I can look into the mirror and not be ashamed of anymore. Goodbye, Sammy. Take care of yourself and the others. And the studio. I hope I see you again someday.
Love Always,
Dean
Ps: It wasn't your fault I left. I'm glad you pushed. This is what I needed and we both know it. This is a good thing, Sammy, trust me. Love you, kid.
He folded the piece of paper after re-reading it for ten minutes. He stood and left his apartment, heading down to the post office. Once inside, he asked the man behind the desk for an envelope, a stamp, and a pen. When he got the letter inside and the stamp secured in place, he neatly scribbled down Sam's address. He briefly thought about going ahead and putting a return address, but decided against it. He paid for the envelope and the stamp and slid the letter across the desk. He turned his back from the letter, took a deep breath, and finally allowed himself to fully immerse himself into his new life.
So what do you think of Dean's decisions so far?
