Full Summary and Warnings in Chapter One…
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Chapter Three: Living easy, living free
It's not Dean, but the guy who stops underneath Sam's branch is about Dean's age.
He's of average height and build, with longish, messy blonde hair, partly obscured by a black beanie with an anarchy symbol on it. He's wearing baggy dark blue jeans and an oversized grey hoodie emblazoned with the word SON.
He has his back to Sam and Sam can see that he has his hands up in front of his face, but can't quite make out what he's doing. Then he hears a click and smells cigarette smoke. It wafts straight up into his face and he coughs slightly.
The guy looks up, the ready-to-fight aggression in his eyes fading fast when he spots Sam. He smiles and Sam can't help smiling back.
"Hey kid," the guy says, "whatcha doin' up there?"
Sam considers the question.
"I just needed some space to think."
The guy nods. "I hear you, bro'."
He takes another drag on his cigarette and then something seems to occur to him and he frowns.
"Hey kid? You want me to take off? Leave you to your thinking?"
Sam shakes his head.
"Nah, I'm pretty much done."
"You come to any conclusions about anything?" the guy asks.
Sam nods.
"Yeah. The same conclusion I always come to."
"What's that?"
Ordinarily Sam would be evasive with a stranger who asked so many questions, but there's something about this guy that makes him want to talk.
"That I've got to learn to keep my mouth shut," he says, "Just for the next seven years, and then I can leave; go my own way."
The guy sucks on his smoke again.
"Family trouble, huh?"
Sam snorts.
"Yeah. We're not exactly the Bradys."
The guy laughs.
"I hear you 'bro. Know a little something about crazy-assed, messed up families myself."
"I bet you've never met a family as crazy as mine," Sam mutters.
The guy gives him a measured look and then sticks his hand up towards Sam.
"Jax Teller," he says.
Sam grips his hand.
"Sam Winchester."
"You're new in town, right?"
"Yeah. Just got here yesterday with my Dad and my brother."
Jax drops his cigarette butt on the ground and grinds it out with the heel of his white Nikes. He leans back against the trunk of Sam's tree and stares up at him.
"How old's your brother?" he asks.
"Fifteen."
Sam twists around to answer, because Jax is now behind him, but that's awkward, so he decides to climb down from the tree instead.
Jax is watching him thoughtfully. "Me too. Are you guys staying here long?"
Sam shrugs.
"Depends on Dad."
"Yeah? What does your old man do?"
"He's….an investigator."
Jax's demeanor changes immediately and he suddenly looks a lot less friendly.
"Why is he in Charming?" he demands.
Sam shrugs.
"Something about missing kids?"
Jax looks puzzled.
"That was a year ago."
From which Sam surmises that this year's cycle hasn't started yet.
"Well…it's gonna happen again."
Jax stares at him.
"How do you know that?"
Sam shrugs again.
"It's what my Dad does. He says it's gonna happen again. And he's looking into it."
Jax is silent for a moment.
"If he's right…if kids start going missing again….he doesn't have to worry. The club will take care of it."
Sam stares at Jax's hoodie and beanie and suddenly he gets it.
"Hey!" he says, "you're part of that biker's club, aren't you? The Sons of Anarchy?"
"Sort of. My Dad founded it. And my Step-Dad's the current president."
Sam nods, thinking that by normal people's standards, this guy probably did have a crazy-ass family. But then, a wry grin twists Sam's mouth, unless you've survived your Mom burning to death plastered to the ceiling of your bedroom, a witch-monster trying to suck the life out of you, and your old man handing you a .45 and telling you to aim for the head when you told him there was a monster in your closet, you have no idea what crazy-ass really is.
"You okay, dude?"
Sam nods. "Hey Jax? You don't know a guy called Sam Crow do you?"
Jax's lips twitch in amusement.
"Yeah. Why?"
"Everyone in town told my Dad he has to talk to Sam Crow. Do you know where he lives?"
Jax is grinning now.
"Sons of Anarchy Motorcycle Club, Redwood Original charter," he says, the capitalization of each word obvious in his tone, "S-A-M-C-R-O. Also known as Sam Crow. It's us."
A triumphant smile spreads slowly across Sam's face. Alright! He's just found out something important that his father doesn't know.
"D'you think your step-dad would be willing to talk to my Dad?" he asks.
Jax shrugs.
"Dunno. If your old man really does know something about trouble coming then…maybe. But if there's a problem, we'll take care of it ourselves."
Sam nods. He respects that. He's lived in more towns across America than most people have had hot dinners and he's seen that people don't look out for each other much any more, not the way his Dad says they used to back in the day. Charming is almost a throwback to an old frontier town and the Sons are modern day gunslingers on metal-backed horses. As to them dealing out justice to whatever was planning on taking the town's kids, John Winchester would probably love to leave them to it with his blessing, except that the Sons aren't expecting a real live monster and wouldn't know what to do with it if they found it.
Jax's head suddenly whips to one side as Dean emerges from a thicket of trees.
Sam watches as his brother approaches, sees him sizing Jax up, working out his height and weight, the likely length of his steps and reach of his arms. Sam glances at Jax and sees him doing the same with Dean.
"Who's your friend, Sammy?" Dean demands, stopping just out of arms reach.
"Jax Teller. This is my brother Dean."
Jax takes a step forward and holds out his hand.
Dean hesitates for a fraction of a second and then steps up and takes the offered hand. There's a quick, firm handshake and then Dean steps back with a nod of approval and cuts his eyes to Sam.
"We gotta go back to the cabin."
The cabin. And Dad. Who may still be in a rage. Sam glares at Dean, using the unfriendly look to hide the fact that he's surreptitiously checking his brother for bruises or other signs of injury. Dean looks fine – he usually is; he learnt how to calm their Dad down a long time ago. Besides, Sam doubts that Dean would've come looking for him if there was any chance his Dad was still having a temper tantrum. Still….
"Is Dad…" and then he remembers that they aren't alone and trails off.
"Dad's worried coz you ran off into the woods," Dean says carefully.
Jax moves abruptly and Dean's eyes slide across to him but he's just getting out his cigarettes. He holds the pack out to Dean who raises an eyebrow then shakes his head.
"No thanks," he says, "I got enough things trying to kill me already!"
Sam can see that Jax is a little flummoxed by this remark, but he doesn't comment, just shrugs and lights himself a smoke.
Dean looks back at Sam.
"C'mon, Sammy. We've gotta go."
"Sam?" Jax says, his eyes serious, "Do you want to leave with your brother? Because you don't have to. If you don't think it'll be safe at home."
"Hey!" Dean is suddenly in Jax's face, "Aint nothing gonna happen to my little brother while I'm around!"
"What about when you're not around?"
This takes the wind out of Dean's sails a little.
"I'm always around," he says softly, "or at least not far," he adds ruefully, his eyes guiltily finding his brother and looking an apology at him.
Jax finds himself wishing that he had a big brother like Dean.
"Who watches your back, Dean?" he wonders aloud.
"Sam," Dean responds automatically and then he takes a step backwards, "and this is getting just a bit too close to a chick flick moment for my liking, so I think we'll be going now."
Sam puts a restraining hand on his brother's arm.
"Jax knows Sam Crow," he says.
Dean's eyes flick back to Jax and Jax is startled by the change in them. Suddenly, Dean looks ten years older and every inch the professional.
"Really?" he says, "Sam Crow may have important information regarding a case our father's working on. Our Dad's an investigator," he adds, "D'you think Sam Crow would be willing to talk to him?"
Jax shrugs.
"How about I come and meet your Dad? Maybe after I've met him I can decide whether I should put in a good word."
Dean's hazel eyes meet the bland but firm expression in Jax's grey ones and Sam can see that his brother is debating the wisdom of letting a stranger past the Winchester family barricades. After a beat he nods brusquely.
"C'mon Sammy," he says and turns away.
Sam smiles at Jax and hurries after his brother.
Jax sighs, drops his butt in the dirt and grinds it out with his heel. He follows the Winchester boys through the woods with the unsettling feeling that he might've just bitten off more than he can chew.