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Word count over 2800!
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Chapter 10 - Lawless.
The trio filed silently into the dimly lit hall. The candles cast shadows across the dusty floor, darkened the features of the small panel of citizens before them. Sam was pale and weak from the regular bleeding's, and required Dean's help to stay upright, but his eyes and mind were clearer than Dean had seen in a long time.
"You may be seated." The still nameless, yet familiar leader's voice echoed through the cavernous room, before being swallowed into the silence.
He gestured to the three wooden chairs in the middle of the room, and Dean eased Sam into the middle one, refusing to take his eyes off the panel. He sized the panel's occupants up, having already scoped the room. If things went south, they got out. Fast. Cas took his seat and gave Sam a reassuring pat on the back, earning wobbly smile in response. Dean frowned. These people had already done enough damage to his group, and even if they were allowed to stay, Dean was planning on a swift and silent exit.
He sat down in the remaining chair, his muscles coiled and tensed. He was wound so tightly that he didn't even notice that the hearing had started until someone said his name.
"Dean? Do you need me to repeat the question?" hissed an annoyed voice, the tone implying that Dean had disrespected him. Respect was earned, and so far no one in this hellhole had done that; except that Bobby guy.
"If you want me to answer it then yes, you do," replied Dean matter-of-factly.
"I asked you and your comrades if you had ever taken the life of an uninfected. They replied no, what about you?" demanded the gruff man.
Dean snorted. He had never killed anyone who was uninfected, even the ones who jumped him. However, he didn't particularly like this guy, and was determined not to tell him what he wanted to hear.
"No one who didn't deserve it," He said with a smirk. Cas saw right through his lie and gave him a dark scowl, trying to explain to the panel that he was just being difficult. Apparently, they were only taking people's first answers. Dean smiled to himself - technically he hadn't lied. He'd never said that he had killed anybody. They reached that conclusion on their own.
Cas, however, was not amused, and gave Dean a look that said 'pull it together, or I'll start pulling teeth!' He had oddly emotive blue eyes, very easy to get lost in. This time, they both got in trouble for not paying attention.
"So far, Sam seems to be the only one making an effort here. I asked you what skills you could bring to the camp!" The man didn't shout, but the irate tone was somehow worse. It hit something close to home and made Dean sit up straight and quiet in his chair.
Cas went first. "I-I'm an okay cook, I'm not adverse to manual labour of any sort. I'm also a doctor - well, doctor in training. And I can fight."
A murmur of approval rippled through the panel. before they were hushed by their leader. The man fixed Dean with a cold, piercing glare. "And what about you, son?" A shiver ran through Dean - no one had called him that since the days of his father.
John Winchester had been a kind man, but he had been turned obsessive and emotionless by the death of Dean's mother; when Dean was four, a mugger killed her. Dean's father. blinded by rage and grief, buried himself in unsolved case and full bottles until he was kicked off the police force. Then, he buried himself in freelance cases, empty bottles and self loathing. Not exactly an improvement. Dean looked after himself - the only interactions he had with his father were criticisms and corrections, or when he taught Dean skills like how to fix a car, or how to use a gun. Those were some of Dean's best memories, until he met Sam and Cas.
"I'm skilled with weapons and hand to hand combat. I can fix just about anything too," he aid in a controlled voice.
The leader nodded. "Well, if that's everything, we'll take a vote. Oh, first, I assume that you two", he said pointing at Cas and Dean, "are willing to supervise the boy and put him down if necessary?"
The room went silent as the dark, looming cloud was addressed so bluntly. Dean's blood boiled when he saw Sammy's cheeks redden and his gaze fall, but before he could say anything, Cas nodded curtly.
"Of course," he said.
The leader sat back in his chair and looked around at the panel. "In that case, let's vote. All those who wish to permit these boys entrance into our camp, please raise your hand." Three quarters of the room raised their hands, causing Sam and Cas to sigh in relief. Dean was reluctant to celebrate; the leader hadn't been one of them.
"Well, since the majority has the vote, then it's decided. I, John Winchester, hereby declare you boys official citizens."
Ice flooded Dean's veins. His ears rang a tuneless, high-pitched sonar blip. His mouth was dry. He just sat, staring slack-jawed at the man in front of him.
John Winchester.
His father.
He was so much older, his face worn, his hair greying. Dean didn't even register Cas asking him what was wrong, or trying to pry him from the chair to which he was clinging to with white knuckles. John shot him a concerned look, but there was no recognition in the man's eyes. He had no idea who Dean was.
"You can leave now," he said bluntly.
Dean got up stiffly and nodded shortly. "Yes, sir," he muttered, his tone the same as it had been since he was 4. He turned on his heals and practically carried Sam out of the room.
He would have kept going, out of the camp, out of the district and out of the city, but he needed time to figure out how to get provisions and other necessities. One thing he didn't need to think about though; there was no way they were staying here.
0o0o0
Dean woke up in a cold sweat back in the small bunker they had been assigned when the arrived. The darkness around him was a cloak around his vision, his eyes searching madly through the blackness as he took in where he was and sighed. Apparently they would receive new accommodation in a few days.
Dean should have expected the nightmare, especially after the previous day's revelations. It was a reoccurring nightmare, always the same. It was less of a dream, and more of a memory.
On the night when John lost his job and had stumbled home drunk to find a seven-year old Dean sitting at the kitchen table with dinner made. Dean had stood up to great his father and had accidentally knocked over his glass of milk. While Dean was scrambling to clean it up, John had snapped, he hurled an empty bottle of whiskey at Dean and screamed, "It's your fault she died! She wouldn't have been out that night if it wasn't for you!"
Dean had spent the rest of the night pressing down on a gash on his arm, and trying not to cry. As the saying goes, 'there's no point crying over spilled milk.' It was the only time that John had actually been physically abusive, but at such a young age, it stuck with Dean for the rest of his life.
He must have made some sort of choked sound when he woke up though, because Cas suddenly appeared at the side of his bed.
"I knew that you weren't fine about the fact that your dad was here," he stated knowingly, a glint of the older, steelier Cas in his eyes as he crouched beside Dean. "I don't see why you insist on telling me the facts, but not the feelings, when I can guess the feelings anyway." His voice was a whisper through the dark that Dean could barely make out.
The other man stayed silent. He didn't know what to say, and he was afraid that his voice would crack if he tried to speak. After not having the nightmare in so long, it had hit him hard. Cas stayed still for a moment, before be walked around to the other side of Dean's bed and pushed him forward with his hand.
"Come on, move over," he ordered. Too tired and emotional to put up a fight, Dean shuffled forward in the bed. He tensed up when he felt the bed sag as Cas climbed in behind him. The two men lay stiffly for a second, a small gap between their bodies.
"You know what, this isn't going to work," muttered Dean, turning to look at Cas, whose face fell. "Either we spoon or someone is going to fall out of this thing," he continued, his first smile dawning like the sun on his face.
Cas' face broke into a grin, and he threw an arm over Dean, radiating heat and comfort into his bones. They stayed like that until the next morning when they awoke to find Sam looking at them with a smug look on his face. Dean really didn't care. He was well rested, content, and he had two people that he loved.
And he did, he did love Cas. But for now it seemed that this was enough. Just being there for each other. In that moment Dean vowed, he was going to get them out of here, he was going to make sure they were happy.
0o0o0
Sam, weeks later.
"I can't believe Ellen just pinched your cheeks! Again!" cackled Jess, doubling over and clutching onto Sam's arm. He tried to scowl at her, but couldn't suppress the twitch in the corner of his mouth.
"I saw that, Sam," teased Jo, smirking at Sam's feigned annoyance. It was hard to be angry at being teased when it was the most attention you'd gotten in your life. He didn't even get many sad, sympathetic glances anymore. He was 'Sam the book nerd' not 'Sam the half-gone kid', and it was perfect.
There weren't many kids, so they tended to get a lot of attention. Apart from himself and Jess, the only other kid was Adam(1) . ?term=holy%20crap, John's three year old son. Dean's half brother.
After Sam awoke to find Cas and Dean spooning (or rather, after Sam stopped laughing and teasing them), Dean had told Sam that John was his father. But apparently, somebody needed to tell John that. It was only the next day that the clueless idiot introduced the trio to his new wife and young son.
Dean had held his composure well until that night when they were alone in the cabin.
To Dean's credit though, he'd never been rude to John, his wife or Adam since they arrived. Dean tended to avoid the kid, but Sam thought he was adorable and knew that Dean did too. Even after only a week, Sam was more at home than he had felt in a long time. He shared a cabin with Cas and Dean, and even had his own room (not that he slept in it all that much). He had friends, he had Jess, and he was finally getting back into education; sort of.
Bobby had a lot of old books, and had promised to try and teach Sam everything he knew, as much as he could in the time Sam had left. It was nice to have someone around who had experience with someone half-gone. Cas was in there most nights, trying to advance his medical knowledge, so they were able to share candles to conserve them.
The blue-eyed mam was fitting in well too. Not only did he have practice with treating people, but he was a renowned cook and well respected leader in the community. His opinions were taken on everything from rationing to strategy for scouting parties like Jo and Jess.
The only one having difficulty was Dean. He was seen as valuable - a skilled soldier, labourer and scout - but he didn't fit in the community. He was too surly, too antisocial. The normally charismatic man simply refused to let his guard down. He skirted the edges of the camp, checking the perimeter for faults and avoiding human contact at all costs (well, except for Adam).
Despite the fact that he shied away from John and his new family, afraid that he might be recognized, and regardless of the fact that Adam was, as Dean said, "a snot nosed brat", there was many a day where the same scene unfolded in front of Sam. Sam watched from the corner of his eye, so as to not alert Dean to the fact that he was watching the adorable interaction.
"Look, I have to work," Dean whispered to the chubby boy hugging his leg. #
"Up! Up! Up!" replied the small, rosy-cheeked child, hopping up and down.
Dean sighed. "You're impossible to communicate with..." he muttered shaking his head.
"Pwease, unka Dean!" pleaded the boy, his bottom lip quivering. Dean looked around, and Sam ducked behind one of the cabins. It was adorable that Dean liked the kid so much and Sam didn't want to embarrass him and put him off. Dean, satisfied that it was safe, hoisted the child onto his hip and continued his patrols.
Sam grinned broadly. Cas was going to love this story.
0o0o0
Sam and Cas were slightly concerned about Dean. Every time there was a scout or a supply run, or an external perimeter check, he rushed to sign up. He couldn't seem to stand life within the boundaries of the camp - or maybe it was just the inhabitants. Most of their conversations recently consisted of Dean trying to point out flaws in the camp and becoming increasingly more irate and agitated when Sam and Cas sang it's praises. There had even been a couple of times that he had outright suggested they leave, but Cas was usually able to pull him off the ceiling.
These pent-up feelings reached their climax on a warm evening about four weeks after their integration into the group. Dean was standing, joking with Sam by the well when Cas stormed up the them, blue eyes stormy. For the first time since they met, Dean felt the sudden urge to find a desk to hide under when those dangerous eyes met his.
"You're leaving!? You can't stand to be around us that much?! Really?!"
Dean put out his hands to try and placate Cas, "Look, that's not it and you know it," he said firmly.
Cas laughed bitterly, "Yeah, you're right. It's your insane death wish!"
Sam backed slowly away from the pair and disappeared into the steadily-growing crowd who had come to investigate the commotion.
"I need to get out of here because I'm going stir crazy in this dump! And I don't see what the big issue is, it's three days!" retorted Dean defensively. "I'd gladly leave for good, but not without you and Sammy!"
"Well, we're not going anywhere. We're happy here, and if you can't see that then your as blind as your father!"
Cas dealt a low blow, and it stuck. Suddenly, as what he had said registered, Castiel's face was no longer that of a predator - he was full of concern now, backtracking. "Dean I- I'm so sorry. I didn't-"
Dean's face crumpled, and then he looked down, face blank as something broke in his eyes. "Just forget it," he muttered, pushing past Cas, "I'll see you in 3 days."
And with that, Dean walked to the rendezvous point to meet the rest of the group. Cas went to follow him, but Ellen caught his arm. "Trust me sweetie, what you boys need is a little bit of space."
Cas watched solemnly as Dean walked out of the gates, and didn't look back.
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Deadly!cas rises from the depths.