Don't Stoke The Fire
-3-
As Dean stood over the sink, shoveling water over his face, he contemplated whether or not he was looking straight at his answer.
Maybe he should just drown himself in the sink and absolve himself of having to make any sort of decision at all.
"Tempting." He mumbled to his reflection.
--
"Enjoying your meal, guys?" Kitty brought out the drinks, three beers and a pitcher of ice water.
"It's great." Mike said, "We were just waiting on the drinks."
As soon as she set the drinks down, Mike grabbed his and took a swig. As he swallowed a look of surprise popped up on his face.
"Something wrong, hun?"
"Uh..not really, its just….I ordered a beer."
"And you got one." Kitty replied.
"This is root beer." He told her.
"Only kind you'll be getting around here for…about two more years I'd say." Kitty told him.
The entire trio's eyes widened once they realized they'd been busted.
"Are you gonna call the cops?" Jessica asked, her parents were going to kill her if they had to bail her out of jail for underage drinking
"I could. You see, three of you ordered alcoholic beverages with fake ID, the one who didn't would get to go scot free…since you all look just as scared as a faun caught smack in the middle of rush hour…I'm thinking the honest one's no longer among us." Kitty glanced around, "Would I be right so far?"
"Completely." Amanda said quietly, hoping her mom wouldn't be enough of a bitch to make her sit in jail all night if this woman turned them in.
"Or, you can sit here, enjoy your meal and sodas, and we can agree that you've made a terrible mistake, hand over the fake ID's, and make sure you tell your friends that you got away with your fun, and we all win."
Jessica and Amanda handed theirs over straight-aways, but Mike seemed a little less willing.
"This is a limited time offer." She reminded him.
Mike handed over his ID begrudgingly.
"Smart kids, I'll be back in a bit to collect your friend's."
"That jerk, he totally played me." Mike grumbled, "That ID cost me two hundred bucks."
"Get over it." Amanda said, "We're lucky we're not spending the night in jail."
--
Sam was on his way to the restrooms when a guy with a surly frown stepped in his path, blocking him.
"Excuse me." Sam said, trying to be polite--he had learned from many of Dean's altercations that it was usually a smart ass comment that started a fight in these places--even though the night had just begun and he was already bored with it; disappointed.
He couldn't begin to explain to himself why he had gotten his hopes up, stupidly thinking that even if his dad and Dean were in town, they'd be hanging around at this hole in the wall. No, they'd be in some crap motel researching a devil's gate, or a demon, or a haunting.
The guy in his path hadn't yet moved but Sam wasn't exactly easily intimidated. He was probably…Sam had him pegged to be in his late twenties, and was about his height, and probably thought he was pretty bad ass.
Since Sam, however, had spent his formative years dealing with werewolves, windegos, and chubacabras…some drunk with a sour mood didn't scare him.
"You mind?" Sam said a bit more forcefully, "I'd like to get by."
"I do." He said taking a step closer, and narrowing his eyes at Sam. "You were hitting on my girl."
"No, I wasn't." Sam said, "Dude, I don't even know who your girl is."
"You were trying to hook up with my Roxy." He said, "No one tries putting the moves on my girlfriend."
Sam groaned, this was all about hot waitress? "You've got to be kidding me. Man, really I'm not ever interested in her."
Sam moved forward to push by him, he was so not even dealing with a bar fight tonight. The guy caught him by the shoulder and pushed him to the ground.
"You're not going anywhere, kid." He said.
Sam jumped up from the ground and hit him squarely in the jaw.
"Fight!" A male voice yelled out in the background.
--
When Dean walked out of the bathroom he realized that he had wasted a hell of a lot more time than he ever intended to. He was going to have to call his dad on the way down to Stanford and explain, his dad would understand; probably even agree. He could tell his dad was pretty worried about their being a hunt so close to Sam's school.
It gave him a perfect excuse to check up on him too. Dean had every intention of downplaying the entire thing as just being the big brother he'd always been; something evil was in town and so he was doing what he always did, making sure Sammy was okay.
He wouldn't mention Stanford, or the last year, or any of it…he couldn't. He was going to put on his best poker face, hope Sam didn't see right through it, and pretend, pretend, pretend.
The mantra of all normal, functioning families, he told himself.
All his mental preparation flew out the window, when he had to duck to miss a head shot.
What the hell…? Had hell broke loose in the five minutes he was in the bathroom?
Dean stood back up, from ducking what he assumed was an unintentional hit and almost fell on his ass.
Son of a bitch.
"Sammy." Dean realized he said it aloud and he and his brother made eye contact for all of a minute before a headshot brought Sam back to the fight.
Fucking asshole, Dean thought, jumping into the fight. That was a damn cheap shot, he should kill the guy for it, and kill Sam for letting him get the shot in. He had been taught damn better than that.
Dean punched him square in the jaw, and was shocked to see the quy barely register it…maybe not just a drunk who liked to fight.
He kicked Dean and he was knocked to the ground hearing a snap of something that he could only hope was not attached to his body.
--
Only one person on the planet had the capability of saying those two syllables and turning it into a swear word.
Sammy.
Sam shouldn't have turned when he heard his name but, damn it, it was a natural thing. He locked eyes with his brother for a minute, just long enough for Roxy's idiot boyfriend to get one-up and sucker punch him.
After this fight was over Dean would kill him.
Sam punched him back, just as good as he was getting it and couldn't believe that this guy did not go down. What was he, a freakin' thoroughbred?
Sam felt a jerk of pain in his shoulder as his arm was grabbed and twisted around. No damn way, he hadn't seen his brother in a year he wasn't about to let the first time they caught up be marred with ridicule because he lost a fight to some idiot.
--
When the other guy twisted Sam's arm around and gained the upper hand Dean knocked him to the ground elbowing him in the face, hard.
The sudden release sent Sam flying to the ground in the other direction, cracking his head on a table.
Dean swiftly kicked their assailant and would have bashed the motherfucker's head in for screwing with his brother like that if he hadn't caught sight of the sickening crack of what he assumed to be Sam's head connecting with a wooden table end.
Jesus Christ.
"Sam. Sammy." Dean pulled his brother up off of the ground, breathing a sigh of relief that he was conscious and checking him over. "Oh, fuck." Dean swore as he brought his hand to Sam's hair line and felt the stickiness of blood.
"I'm fine." Sam said, taking a step back from his brother and feeling like he was a little kid again.
He didn't want to be the little boy who went running to his brother when some bully tossed sand in his eyes. He was just as much of an adult as Dean was, he just wished Dean could see it.
"You could have a concussion." Dean said "We--"
Dean was interrupted as Jessica came running over flinging herself at Sam, hugging him.
"Oh my god, Sam. I saw the entire thing, almost…he could have killed you! Are you okay?"
"What the hell is going on?" Kitty asked, then looked at Dean. "Dean?" She then looked down and saw her niece's boyfriend on the ground. "Oh, for the love of all…Brock! Get your drunk ass off of my bar."
"Yours?" Dean questioned.
Kitty glanced at the bleeding teenager a foot or so from Dean that had the blonde from earlier clinging to him. "Niece's boyfriend…so yeah, mine."
"Mine." Dean said gesturing to his brother, still trying to figure out the girl, and half-thankful for the catastrophe that kept him distracted from having to deal with everything he had been feeling about the prospect about seeing his brother again.
"Everyone back to your corners!" Kitty hollered, "Nothing to see."
"My brother." Dean explained, giving Sam a odd look, he was damn curious about the cute blonde. Sammy had taste, he'd give his brother credit for that.
"And the fourth." Kitty said.
Dean looked at her confused.
"Part of my little party of underage drinkers." Kitty said, "The smart one, ordered water."
Of course he did, Dean thought, shaking his head…he swore…only Sam.
"Better bring him on back and we'll see about cleaning up that wound. You should make sure he sees a doctor make sure it isn't a concussion or need stitches…BROCK!"
He barely stirred on the ground. Kitty rolled her eyes, "I should thank you Dean, he needed that."
Dean grinned, "Uh…thanks for the offer Kitty," Dean felt in his pocket for his phone and swore inwardly. He's dead. Dean exchanged a look with Sam, then turned back to her. "My dad's really protective of little Sammy here. I better just swing right by an ER…Real funky town here though."
Kitty nods her head, and Sam looked to Dean. A year, but he wouldn't ever forget the codeword. Something was wrong.
--
"That's you're brother?" Jessica whispered to Sam.
Sam shrugged, this was a-typical, Dean always managed to make an entrance. He was sure his friends would talk about this until graduation.
"That's Dean." Sam groaned inwardly…he had forgotten just how much getting your head cracked open really seemed to hurt. Throbbing headache and all, he was still a bit curious about how Dean knew this bartender though. Unless Dean had completely dropped his old rules…she was a bit old for him.
"Are you okay?" Jessica asked looking at the cut on his head worriedly. "That looks like it hurts pretty bad."
"I've…" Sam was about to say he had worse injuries, but stopped. He never thought that Stanford would mean still having to keep up with a constant stream of lies but it was one of the things in his life that just never changed. Sam just smiled, "I'll survive."
"…a real funky town." Sam caught the end of Dean's statement.
Sam turned to Jess.
"Jess, I uh…need to go with Dean, with him and my dad in town, I should spend some time with them. My dad travels a lot for work, they aren't going to be in town for long."
What was this? Sam wondered, Lie number 417?
"Yeah," Jess said looking confused. "Okay Sam, just uh…call me, okay? And make sure you get that looked at."
"Don't worry." Sam said, "Trust me, Dean's not the type to let me forget it."
--
John Winchester was well acquainted with the feeling of being a worried parent. He worried about things that most parents didn't even consider, he worried about things that every parent in there right mind considered, and then there were the worries that overlapped.
Like when his son went out for a drink and didn't answer his phone on the third try, and there was a succubus on the loose, maybe more than one.
Or when he calls his younger son to let him know also a succubus is in town…he doesn't answer his phone either.
It terrified him.
John picked up the phone and dialed Dean's number again. Dean was too responsible--too good of a hunter to not answer his phone, so something had to be wrong.
--