A/N: Sorry for the delay, I spent all this time working on my DCBB haha (I only have time to do one thing at a time, sadly). I hope you enjoy.
Thank you to my Sanjy and Niles for all the help and support, and Niles for the beta.
6. Cas's Story
"Claire was born from a teenage pregnancy." Cas can feel the wistfulness rush through him even as he says it. She is, after all, everything he has, and right now, like every other time, he's excited to talk about her. To tell someone that he has her. that he will see her in a while, too.
"We were very young—Amelia slightly older than me, but still a teenager. My fath–family did not really… like it…" He presses his lips together and tries not to look at his roommates, scratching instead at the bandage on his nose for his NG tube. "My father was well-off. I lived a protected childhood. So I found myself at a loss when it came to dealing with something like this. But Amelia… Amelia is a good person. I cherish her."
Cas holds on to his beer as Gabe takes a wild turn, the tyres of his brand new car screeching against asphalt in protest. Some of the liquid from his bottle threatens to fall, but Cas manages to make sure it doesn't, just as his sibling side-eyes him. "You spill that beer on my upholstery, you get kicked out, li'l bro."
The warning is effective. Cas clutches the bottle closer to himself, feeling the cool condensation dampen a patch on his t-shirt. Gabe takes another turn, whooping, as he reaches for his own beer and takes a swig.
"Thought I'd have to wait forever for this," he says. "The old man looked like he was never gonna get me one of these sweet babes."
"Father works hard for everything he gives us."
"Suuure. Got nothing to do with the fact that he was born rich."
"Yes, but that didn't mean—"
"Look at you," Gabe chides as he turns to Cas for a brief moment, voice bitter. "Being daddy's favourite again."
"Gabe, I'm not—"
"Cut it." The car starts to slow, and Gabe veers it into an alley, switching the headlights off. "You're always gonna be on his side." He pushes down on the breaks bringing the car to a complete halt and a moment later, a girl walks out of the shadows. Shiny blond hair spills out of her hoodie, but the rest of her face is obscured.
"Hey, sweetheart," Gabe greets her with a smirk. "How much you got?"
"How much do you want?"
Gabe's smirk widens and he reaches for his pocket. Cas pretends to concentrate on his beer then, pretends not to notice he ever saw the exchange happen. A moment later, like it actually didn't happen, Gabe pulls out of the alley, while Cas tries to keep his rushing pulse in check, looking for the girl in the hoodie in the side mirrors. He is disappointed when he realises that she seems to have disappeared.
"Amelia grew up an orphan. She was in the foster care system a lot, in group homes." Cas can feel the colour drain out of his face when he remembers it. "She had a hard life and I think, for all that, she has achieved and succeeded more than anyone can ever imagine. We didn't even talk the first time I met her."
"Who's the cutie? Does he talk?"
It's been six months since Gabe got the car. They're in the same alley, Cas with another bottle of beer. The girl in the hoodie passes a small pouch into Gabe's hand.
"Oh, he talks," Gabe replies with a grin.
"Cool." The girl seems to have lost interest as quickly as it came. She twirls a lock of hair around her finger. "Hey, can I get a ride?"
Gabe rubs at his forehead. "To?"
She opens the backdoor and seats herself in the car before replying. "Pine Street. Kinda nearing my curfew."
"That's where your folks are?" Gabe starts reversing out of the alley, looking now and again into the rearview mirror.
"Nah. I'm walking home from there."
"All right."
The ride is quiet after that. Cas keeps fidgeting with his beer, not drinking it, but not looking away from it either. When the car pulls to a halt, the girl hops off and bends over Cas's open window, and he sees her face for the first time. Brown eyes sparkle on a thin, beautiful face and she bites at her lip as she winks. "See you around, cutie."
Cas looks up at Sam and Dean, who've been listening to him, enraptured. He doesn't know how to continue. He scratches at his NG tube again, an uncomfortable warmth spreading through him.
"We… fell in love in a rather strange way," he says, and Sam smiles a little, sadness and recognition etching his face. Cas wonders about Sam and Jessica. If their story is just as strange, and if Sam will ever tell them, and the whole thought has him looking away because he can't bear to see his roommate sitting there beside him, looking like everything he lived for has been sucked out clean from him. Like he's been robbed of every inkling of happiness that ever existed.
Cas can't imagine losing Amelia or Claire and he is shuddering.
"Cas?" Dean prods him gently from the other side.
Cas turns to concerned green eyes and a beaten-down man who still hopes and cares for his brother with everything he has, and he thinks, his story can't be the worst out there.
"She hated me at first," Cas continues, "I said something very stupid and it did not work out into a friendship at all."
"Lily." Cas calls her that because that's who Gabe says she is. He's sure it's not her real name. "Lily, hello."
They're in an alley and she looks up from the burrito that she's devouring on the stairs of an old building. "Hey," she says, standing up and finishing the last of her food as she aims the wrapper at a dumpster. It hits its mark. "I hooked your brother up last night," she says. "He need more?"
Cas fiddles with the sleeves of his hoodie, pulling them over his hands, trying to escape the chill in the air. He opens his mouth, shuts it, and she descends the stairs, raising her eyebrow as her hair floats in wisps behind her, blown back by the light breeze. She looks like an angel.
"What's your name, cutie?" she asks, while Cas contemplates if he's even worthy of maintaining eye-contact with her. "Aren't you a little young for this?"
"Are you going to report me?"
She laughs, fingering her hair again. "You really think so?" And then after a pause, "No. You looking to get hooked up too?"
"Yes."
"Okay. So what do you want?"
His heart is racing and he wants to say no, but he runs his tongue over chapped lips. "I would very much like some marijuana."
She stares at him a whole moment, before bursting into laughter. "That's adorable!"
"No, no, I really—"
She stops laughing, wiping away tears from the corners of her eyes. "How about I buy you an ice cream?"
"I'm not that much younger than you are." He's starting to get annoyed now. She talks to Gabe. They're friends. She doesn't laugh at him. Then what the hell is so funny about Cas?
He follows her as she begins to stalk away. The streets are dark and he needs to get home in half an hour, but he doesn't care. She leads him into a small ice cream shop and orders the Triple-Drizzle Choco Bomb for both of them, complete with nuts and sprinkles.
They're silent as they take a booth, but she starts talking at her second spoonful. "So you look like a nice kid."
He bristles. "I'm fifteen, you know."
"Kid," she sighs.
"You're sixteen."
"Yup."
"You are a minor as well. You shouldn't be… in this trade."
She snorts as she licks her spoon clean with each bite of ice cream. Her hair falls on her face and she lifts a hand to brush it away, winking at Cas when she catches him staring. Cas looks away, feeling his cheeks go red and digs a spoon into his own bowl.
It's void of conversation, their small meet-up and after they have finished their ice creams she gets up from her seat. "Come on," she says, "it's getting late."
He stands, rushing to catch up as she walks away. "I'm serious," he says as they head out into the street. "This is dangerous. You can make money in so many ways—"
She stops, an eyebrow going up. "What's your name?"
Cas blinks. "It's…" he hesitates, wonders how come Gabe never mentioned him. "It's Castiel."
"Okay, Castiel." She flicks her hair back. "I'm doing this for reasons you don't know and will never understand."
"No, I do—"
"Listen to me," she asserts, poking a finger to his chest. "You have a rich daddy and a rich brother and you grew up with the best shit all around. Maybe your dad will make a donation and you'll go to a great school and get an amazing degree and come turn up your nose at people like me."
"I wasn't—"
"I said, listen." She pokes him again. "I have got to look out for myself. The CPS, sure, they say they're here for me but they wouldn't know which foster dad is waiting to get a fuck out of me and which family is waiting to beat the shit out of me and sometimes I don't think they care."
"I understand."
"No, you don't," she says, "so fuck off."
He opens his mouth to speak but she's turning away, sliding her hoodie over her head and vanishing around the corner by the time he can blink again.
"That is how I got to know her." Cas stops there, reluctant to tell the rest of his story. "It got better between us."
Dean raises an eyebrow. "After… she asked you to screw yourself?"
"Yes. Gabe was drunk at a party a year later. I went to pick him up. She kissed me."
Dean coughs into his burger. "And…?"
"Yes," Cas whispers. "She was still dealing at that time. I still didn't understand. But things changed."
"And she got pregnant."
"Yes, we did not use protection."
Cas stops, watching Sam and Dean's intense stares and feeling slightly uncomfortable with it. The silence between his narrations is daunting and gruelling and he grits his teeth as he prepares himself to talk. "She was moved to a group home for pregnant teenagers. My father sent me away to boarding school."
"And your dad is rich."
"Yes."
"Awesome! How're you broke then, dude?"
"I walked out of my home," Cas shrugs. "And like any other student I have debts."
"And your dad…?"
"He offered to pay. I did not want his help. Plenty of people live lives without much money and I think I am doing all right in that aspect."
"And you went to college with a kid? Wow, man."
"Yes. Amelia was, and is a hardworking, extremely intelligent person. She was ambitious. She was not lying when she got angry at me for having a rich father and easier school prospects, and she did not leave any stone unturned to make sure her disadvantages did not mean that she had to compromise on her academics. She would never touch her own drugs and she gathered the money towards giving herself a future.
"Her grades were good enough to earn her a full scholarship at UCLA. She went to college after I graduated high school, so someone could be around for Claire all the time. I stayed back and looked after Claire for two years. Amelia and I had to work odd jobs to afford a small place for us and Claire." Cas can see Dean shift and glance at Sam from the corner of his eyes, but they're both silent and unquestioning. They're letting Cas take his time to say whatever he wants to say and he's grateful for that, even though he doesn't know how much he can actually tell them.
"I started pre-med at Stanford when I was twenty," Cas finally continues, fingers going back to play absently with the NG tube. It's uncomfortable having one in him, but he'd imagined it to be way worse when he'd got the tube into his patients before. "I did not get a full scholarship for it. That's why…" he is scoffing again, "I'm broke, and still a second year resident."
"You still got into Stanford, man. Fucking Stanford, after all of that. That is awesome."
Cas has to shut his eyes for a moment. For a moment as the images whiz by, of being married, Claire, the fights and the fights and the fights…
"What the hell is wrong with you?!" Amelia is blurry and Cas blinks at her. Claire is crying loudly somewhere as he tries to make sense of what is happening. He's on the floor and he's so tired, so tired…
"My daughter isn't a joke!" Amelia says, gripping Cas's shoulders.
"Our daughter."
"MY daughter isn't a goddamned joke!"
He doesn't understand. He watches Amelia run to Claire and she emerges a bit later, holding the little girl in her arms. Claire is still sobbing. "Daddy!"
Cas wants to reach for her. She's his everything. Every reason for him to be alive. Every reason he's holding on to… after everything… after everything…
He flinches as the door bangs shut behind Amelia, the sound of the footsteps retreating as she leaves him and his life.
~o~
All his life, Dean's always thought that Sammy's the smartest kid on this planet but he reckons Cas is pretty much a close second if he could do all of this while taking care of a kid and being broke as hell.
He thinks of how deep Cas runs; of how Dean thought only of his and Sam's lives until now, and had never bothered to know about Cas's. And yet, here he was, having lived an equally difficult life as them; just in a different way. Because, Dean is sure as fuck that it's not easy to be a parent and be broke all at once. And, Jesus, is everyone in that little apartment of theirs fucking cursed or what?
Cas seems to have drifted off somewhere, his eyes shut, and he stays like that for a minute. When he opens them again, though, his eyes look darker, like something is haunting him. "After Amelia graduated," he says. "I drove to UCLA with Claire for the ceremony and asked her to marry me. She agreed."
"It didn't work out, though," Dean concludes, heart sinking a little.
"No," Cas says simply. "Some days it was plain ugly. We eventually got a divorce. We remain friends now. Amelia is fair about our shared custody with Claire."
"As she should be." Cas looks into Dean's eyes, and Dean tries to copy the light smile on his roommate's face while all of Today's Shitty Events and Revelations still press down on him. "I think you'd make a good dad, Cas. Boring," he grins, "but good."
"Thank you."
Dean averts his gaze from Cas's then, so he can eat his food. Beside him, Sam's been quiet; he listens and processes and in another time he would talk, but Dean just watches his brother for a moment.
Sam is still picking at his burger, taking minuscule bites, and when he swallows nervously, Dean knows he's going to talk. And sure enough—
"Cas," Sam whispers, and then clears his throat.
"Yes?"
"You read the entire Harry Potter series to her." Sam turns around. "You are a good dad."
"That is kind of you, Sam."
And just like that, Dean is kinda proud that he and Sam chose Cas for their roommate, and not someone else. They couldn't get a more awesome, kickass roommate than this one. Sammy is warming up to him, too. They're gonna be good. They're gonna be fine. Dean knows that for sure. At least, today, after all this horrible shit, he can say he knows this single, stupid thing for sure that he, Sam and Cas are going to be okay.
~o~
"What are you doing—what is he doing here?" Special Agent Jody Mills is yelling out to Elena Franklin, another agent, who rolls her eyes and saunters over to them with her hands in her pockets but doesn't reply to Jody. Elena is in her usual leather jacket with her dark hair pulled into a bun. Bobby has worked with her before and she is good.
He crosses his arms. "Deputy Director's orders. I got a transfer. You don't think I resisted when I knew it was you?"
They're standing outside the ER at Stanford Medical Centre, a few hours after the blasts. There were three of them, one after the other, and the number of casualties is high. The air reeks of blood and panic and smoke and Bobby feels like he will never be able to wash this stink off him. He'd been transferred to the Sacramento field office just yesterday to join the JTTF and work the threat they'd found and apparently neutralised at Palo Alto a few days ago.
It looks like said threat was far from gone, though.
Jody narrows her eyes. "I'm sorry I missed the memo but as you can see, the last few days have been stressful. We have a terrorist organisation on our hands."
"Yeah, that's obvious," Bobby tells her. He nods at Elena. "Ya keepin' an eye on him? Why are you out in the open with us? Where's your handler?"
She smirks. "Sam's fine. He thinks my name is Ruby. And I'm here as Ruby to meet him, so if you want you can pretend you're interviewing me or something."
"Well, Sam's obviously not fine, since he was in the vicinity of a bombing. And he hasn't been admitted," says Bobby. "So you need to leave and call him instead."
Elena pushes her hair behind her eyes. "Yeah, I didn't know he wasn't admitted. I'll go back and give him a call."
"Bobby," Jody interrupts the conversation, "Elena is with Sam under my orders and she's making sure there's nothing suspicious about him. You aren't her SAC. You don't get to boss her about."
"Suspicious? Have you met that boy?" Bobby snorts for good measure, thinking of how ridiculous that sounds.
"Apparently, you've met him," says Jody, an eyebrow arched as she eyes him.
Bobby hangs his head, remembering Mary. "Yeah, I have. His mom worked under me. I appointed her to that last job of hers."
Jody's eyes soften. "You know that it could be a relative, too. The killer. Agent Winchester has only two relatives who are alive. Her sons."
They're in a secluded spot, unnoticed because of the commotion around them, but Bobby still refrains from discussing it further. "Can we go somewhere private to talk? Never know who's listening."
"Yeah, I requested one of the doctors to let us use his office," Jody replies. "Come on."
"I'll leave," Elena says, "if you're going to have Sam talk to you. I mean, he probably knows I'm FBI—"
"What?"
"I might have dropped a fake ID," she replies, smirking.
Jody's eyes are wide with horror. "I'm – I'm firing you, Special Agent Franklin, This is ridiculous! You're not following orders—"
"Relax, I just need to see how he reacts. If he knows something, I want him to trust me. I've worked long enough to know that I won't let myself slip like that."
Jody seems to have had enough and Bobby is just plan amused right now. "Elena," she says, "if he turns out to be with the people we're after—"
Elena snorts before Jody's even finished. "I think you should listen to Agent Singer on that one. Sam's innocent."
"How do you know that?"
"Please," she replies. "He's falling apart all the time." She lowers her voice. "If someone's not bombing us, it's him."
"And you're sure, after a few days of being undercover, and so sloppily undercover, that it's not all an act."
"Yeah, no, he was puking up his lunch and having a panic attack this afternoon because his dad's been dead four years," Elena replies. There is something about her face, something that denotes she knows, and Bobby feels his heart sink a little. "Pretty sure he's not stable enough to assemble bombs."
"You never know—"
"I know, okay?" Elena snaps, and Jody blinks at her, taken aback. Elena is instantly guilty at her retort and she bows her head, tucking her hair behind her ears. "Sorry," she whispers. "But I know. And the only way my undercover job will be useful is if I can have his trust and find out if he knows anything about Agent Winchester. Just go with me on this, Jody. If he's with… you know, those people, I will be the one who's dead and you're not losing anything."
"Are you kidding me? I can't put you at risk like that. I do have everything to lose!"
"It's just a statement," Elena replies, scoffing. "I can take care of myself."
Jody takes a moment to recover. "Okay," she says. "I'll take your word for that but if it gets dangerous—"
"You'll know," says Elena. "Now before too many people from my class see me around I should leave."
"Yes," Jody tells her. "We'll let you know the outcome—go see if you get any intel on the bombing for now."
"I'll get back to you on that," Elena replies. She gives them a mock salute and leaves, walking away with her hands back in her pockets. Bobby stares after her for a bit until Jody taps his arm and gestures him towards the offices.
"So is this how your JTTF is? Unprofessional and wasted? Jesus, no wonder they wanted me here," Bobby states to Jody as she leads him into an empty room, locking the door behind them and checking for cameras. Thankfully, there are none.
"She's one of the appointed agents who's working the case with me," says Jody. "She's good. And so is the JTTF."
"I know she's good. I've seen her before. But that doesn't mean your task force is. And you? You're using her to investigate Sam Winchester." Bobby still can't believe this. "You've been appointed this goddamned rabid case and you're wasting your agents on that boy."
"To investigate the Winchesters. Both," says Jody. "Look, Bobby, we know it was an inside job. This is serious. We have to start somewhere even if it isn't much."
"And you're doing it seriously, how? Like I said, if that's how Elena is going undercover with her real job out in the open for Sam to see, not even following your orders, and if you're somehow, in some deluded sense, right about Sam or Dean being terrorists, she is dead. We've been after the Demons for ages. We haven't had contact from Agent Tran for months and she might be dead too. Ya think your piss-poor undercover job is good enough if Sam and Dean are really working for 'em?"
Jody sighs. "She'll do her job, Bobby, I trust her."
"Yeah, I just saw how much you trust her. And you're her damned SAC for what? I thought you were better than this, Jody. She give no shits about listening to you and you're okay with that?" He is, very honestly, surprised. They used to be partners a few years ago and she is one of the best he's been paired to work with. They were always on the top of things, no matter what. He can't believe she's blundered so badly right now.
"I do know her," Jody snaps at him. "Don't make me out to be an idiot. I know I didn't approve of her methods sometimes but she does things her own way and she still gets everything done the way it has to be. She is one of our best. And if I see something wrong I will fire her and put someone else up for it, but as of now she is able to talk to Sam and connect with him."
Bobby rubs the top of his head and plops down on the doctor's chair with a sigh. Jody follows, seating herself across him. Bobby leans forward on the table. "That man you caught the other day…"
"We had the bombs defused," Jody replies. "But obviously there were more. I knew there was something Alastair was hiding."
"Alastair?"
She nods. "Full name is Dr Alastair Rogers. He's inner circle. He used to be a paediatrician in Minnesota. We were lucky to catch him. He has a history of drug trade and was arrested for the murder of his brother. They released him for the lack of evidence."
"The media doesn't know, does it? And the first terrorist attack was in Minnesota. This ain't no coincidence."
"The Minnesota Supreme Court, yes," Jody agrees. "The media doesn't know yet, thank God. Or imagine the panic." She stares away, drumming her fingers against the oak table. "We need to interrogate Alastair some more. He's already in high-security and we've kept an eye on him to stop him from contacting his colleagues."
"That's good."
"We're looking for more of them," says Jody. "If he's here it's unlikely he is alone. There has to be more."
"Hmm." Bobby leans back in his chair. "The Demons though. I don't get why they're here," he says. "They were based in Texas last we knew, and we got regular updates from Linda even after Mary died."
"Why are you even asking me this, Bobby, I'd have thought it was obvious."
"If you're going to put this on Sam and Dean again—"
"I'm not," Jody tells him. "I'm not putting it on them but their mom… maybe she told them something."
"Those boys would come to me if she did. They ain't stupid."
"True," Jody replies, eyes roving over to meet his. "Or she told them not to tell you either."
~o~
An orderly comes over to fetch Sam and Dean before Cas's ex-wife and daughter reach the hospital. Dean grumbles that he has to take the wheelchair and Sam walks next to him, dazed, and things look pretty hinky until they see who's in the little office that they're led into.
"Bobby?!" Sam pipes up, sounding excited for the first time in six months and Dean finds himself grinning when Bobby gets up from his chair in the doctor's office.
"Nice to see you, ya idjits," he says, giving them a bear hug each. Dean hugs him back with as much conviction as he can, clinging, because Bobby is the only familiar thing to happen to him ever since their mom died and Sam lost his fingers. Bobby is the old times, when he'd come home and talk for hours with John and Mary and Sam would show him his books and Dean, his toy car collection. The guy who babysat them sometimes when their parents were away and made the best chili and banana bread. Bobby is a part of that happy past which Dean never expected to see again.
He's in a suit though, so Dean knows this is official and that they won't be drinking whiskey after their talk. Dean isn't supposed to have whiskey right now anyway, disgustingly enough.
Next to Dean, Sam seems to be averting his eyes from Bobby and Dean knows why. They haven't spoken in years.
However, Bobby doesn't notice Sam's stiffness and hesitance when he gestures to the other lady in the room, who's in a pantsuit. He mutters something to them about the woman, and Dean sighs.
"Ya gotta be louder, Bobby, our ears are busted," he replies.
Bobby's eyes widen. "Jesus, boy," he replies, louder this time, and clearer. "I'm sorry about that. I said, this is Special Agent Jody Mills. We used to be partners."
"Sam can't hear either, by the way," Dean adds, and raises a palm at the other agent. "Hey."
She nods at them curtly, pushing her chair back to let Sam take the other one as Dean wheels forward. He muffles a groan at his painful ribs and hopes for the good stuff that can put him to sleep once he's out of his room. Beside him, Sam's fidgeting with his right hand already, massaging his stubs, and Dean realises the phantom pain is either bad or getting there.
Sam needs to take it easy. If he winds up any further he is probably going to have a meltdown. And Dean would normally be there for him, but today is not Dean's day either.
"First things first," Bobby says, getting Dean to snap out of his reverie. "There's some stuff I need to hand over to you two." He reaches for his bag and pulls out two plastic bags. "We had these in evidence. Found them on your mom but we wanted to see if we could work something out of it."
Dean reaches for the bags, one containing a gold locket that he had never seen and the other, an envelope. "What is this stuff?"
"The locket is just your pictures, you and Sam. The letter is for you too."
"As in—?"
"Read it when you got time," Bobby tells him gently.
Dean swallows a lump in his throat. "Mom knew she was dying?"
"We can't discuss that, Dean," Bobby tells him. "Did she try to call you or contact you before she—?"
Dean presses his lips together, shutting his eyes. "No."
Dean's home early from the garage today, and unwinding in his boxers in front of the TV with a beer when he hears the knocks at the door. It's Halloween and kids are probably trick or treating and he's got the candies in a bowl so he starts to find his t-shirt so he can open the door. However, he stops when the knocks repeat, loud and frantic, making him realise that this is something else.
Dean mutes the TV, putting his sweaty bottle down as he finally finds the damned t-shirt.
"I'll be right there," he calls out, frowning as he makes his way to the door. The knocks repeat another time. "Yes, yes!" Dean gets to the door and looks through the peephole only to be startled by the sight outside. "Mom?!"
He's opening the door the next moment and Mary stumbles into his arms, holding on for dear life. Her clothes are rumpled, eyes tired, hair askew and dyed brown. She's just holding on to him, not uttering a word, still and silent, and he has to lean close to make sure she's still breathing.
He shuts the door but she doesn't budge. "Mom." Dean puts his lips to her greasy hair. "What's going on, what's wrong?" His voice is shaky, his stomach churns and he wishes she'd just talk already, because he is scared to bits.
She doesn't say anything. She just pulls away, pushing her hair back, and she's smiling widely. "Sweetheart," she says, "will you take care?"
He doesn't know what to say except, "Of-of course… are you okay?"
"I am," she says. "Talk to Sammy, okay?"
"About what?"
"Just go to Stanford," she says. "Talk to him." She takes a step forward, taking Dean's hands. "Will you do that, baby?"
"Y-Yes… I— can you come…?"
"No, but you should go."
"Okay." Dean's eyes prickle. "You're scaring me."
She blinks up at him, eyes kind and loving, face tired but somehow ecstatic, and she reaches forward to cup his cheeks. "Don't be scared," she tells him. "I have to go now."
"No—"
"Go talk to Sam." Her hands are off him, making him feel lonely and empty and he nods as she walks back to the door. "Okay." He watches her shut it behind her, and whispers to himself. "Okay."
Two days later when Dean's at Palo Alto trying to talk to Sam in a bar, Sam's apartment catches fire. Sam somehow escapes everyone holding him back and runs into the building to save Jess, but he loses his fingers too. Dean brings him back out and tries not to break down as he yells at an unconscious, badly burned Sam for being this damned stupid.
It's not even a day later when Bobby calls him to say that Mary is dead.
"Dean?" Bobby's voice is loud but calm and Dean shakes out of his memories to face him, when he feels the wetness on his cheeks. He ducks his head, swiping at his eyes with the back of his palm, but Bobby's hand is on his shoulder. "You two should get some rest. I can't imagine what today's been like."
Dean looks at Sam, eyes now dry, and Sam seems like he needs something to knock him out too.
"Yeah," Dean says, "we both need to sleep a week."
"Good. Go get that rest."
He snorts. "I wish."
"I'm going to be around," says Bobby. "I'm now at the Sacramento office and we're taking these attacks seriously. So if you got anything, need to have a beer, just call. That good?"
"Yeah." Dean nods, then sniffs. "Thanks, Bobby."
"Don't worry about it. I'll fetch you an orderly."
"Cool."
Dean looks away, concentrating on the packages Bobby just gave him, feeling the thick plastic as he ignores Jody's scrutinising looks. He ignores Sam too, Sam who is incredibly pale right now, whose chin is quivering like he is going to fall apart, and he ignores everything, even the fact that he just lied through his teeth to the freaking FBI.
~o~
Jody watches the Winchester boys walk away, calculating their reactions in her mind. She doesn't know what to think. Elena sounds right about Sam's nervousness but Dean… Dean looked like he was hiding something, but Jody is not sure what.
Bobby closes the door behind him as an orderly takes the Winchesters back and plops down on his chair, palm rubbing at his head. Jody's phone chooses that moment to vibrate.
It's a text from one of her other agents, Norman, and when she reads it, something clenches inside of her. "Shit."
Bobby looks up. "What happened?"
Jody holds up her phone so she can see Norman's text. "Alastair escaped," she whispers, and the shudder that wracks her body makes her realise just how much she hadn't expected that.
A/N: Thank you for sticking with me and reading anyway. If you're interested, after this, do check out my DCBB. It's called Kiss Me, Kill Me. I worked hard on it and I really love how it turned out. :) Thank you!
Reviews are always awesome!