Sam felt that he'd dodged a bullet when he recognized Benny Lafitte's name on his appointment schedule. The handful of times Sam had met Dean's friend had been enough to signal exactly what the meeting was going to be about and he didn't want any part of it.
Sam had seen the name on his planner far enough in advance to have Becky cancel the appointment - if this was not a legal matter then Sam had nothing to discuss. What Sam did not count on was Benny's subtly, because whereas Dean had pounded at his door, demanding entry, assurance and forgiveness, Benny was calm and disconcertingly patient; to say that it caught him off guard would have been a vast understatement.
After getting a call back from Sam's assistant saying his appointment was "regrettably being canceled due to unforeseen circumstances" (just a fancier way of saying the golden boy was pussying out, Benny knew) he waited outside of Sam's office for a chance to give the boy a piece of his mind.\
It was well after six when Sam finally emerged from the building with his shoulders slumped and his head down. The overgrown boy hadn't even looked around the atrium as he exited the building. If he had, he'd have spotted Benny right away. Benny set his mouth into a hard line and smashed out the cigarette he'd been sucking on into the nearest ashtray. He blew twin streams of smoke from his nostrils in a huff, letting his training lead and following Sam's grim figure as he skulked across the parking lot.
Benny's eyes narrowed marginally under the brim of his newsboy hat and his steps forward faltered when he saw Sam come to a stop and wait sullenly at a bus stop as a dark scrim of ominous looking clouds gathered above them. He was surprised to learn that the ADA prefered public transit to the hot sportscar Dean had described. He'd meant to talk to him right then, stop him in his arrogant tracks and rip into him for the damage he'd hatched in his friend and how it kept growing, threatening to devour Dean from the inside out. But what he saw cross that parking lot stopped him short and made him rethink his strategy.
Gone was the haughty boy who Benny had pictured, a spoiled brat high on his own goddamn ignorance and callousness. In his place was a broken man, nearly as defeated and miserable-looking as Dean; it gave him pause in his trek across the asphalt. But a quickly approaching bus, rumbling loudly down the street, spurred him to move again. He was more confused now, but he needed to hash this out with the boy, for Dean.
A resounding clap of thunder cracked above Benny's head as he stalked toward Sam at the bus stop and the first few droplets of an impending rain storm splattered down on his shoulders. He reached the awning covered stop just as the bus pulled to the curb.
"Sam Wesson, we need to have us a little chat," he called as he pressed himself against the post, letting the small crowd slide around him.
Sam jumped and turned slowly in the cluster of bus riders surrounding him at the stop. He towered above those in the crowd that moved by him to board the transit home and escape the teasing raindrops. Even though he could have met Benny's eyes easily, he kept his gaze cast down.
"What?" Benny asked taking a step further under the awning but not any closer to Sam, "You've got your head so far up your ass you can't see a man trying to help ya out?"
The stop was empty now and the bus pulled away, the roar and diesel staining the raindrops. Sam stepped out of the rain, coming down now in slow, fat drops, and eyed Benny from the opposite end of the bench. In the few times he'd seen him at the baseball field, Benny had been relaxed and jovial. He had an easy smile and a calming demeanor that seemed to bring the kids back to peace when they were frustrated. That was not the posture Benny was wearing now.
Sam had a few inches over him, that was nothing new, but the stocky man that watched him seemed efficient and compact. He was tense and kept inching back and forth on his side of the stop, like a predator stalking his prey. Suddenly all the stories Dean had shared of Benny's PTSD and countless bar fights bubbled in his mind, setting off warning bells and making him feel small. Was Benny here to exact some kind of revenge for breaking up with his friend? Did people really do that?
Sam sighed and put a hand out in surrender, "Look, I know you're probably here to help Dean save face or to kick my ass or whatever, but I'm too tired for bullshit, Benny."
"Awful strange way to punch your meal ticket friend," Benny shook his head as he took a step forward, his footfalls echoing flatly in tandem to the raindrops pelting the roof of the enclosure. "I was here to try to save Dean's ass but now I'm trying to save yours."
Sam felt the need to side step away and soon found himself circling the bench, Benny watching him from one side, Sam keeping his distance on the other.
"What does that even mean?" Sam stopped moving for a moment, his brows coming together in confusion. "You want to help me? Is that some kind reverse psychology zen thing?" He hadn't meant to, but Sam had trapped himself inside the covered stop, his back to the advertisement and his knees almost against the bench.
Benny stopped pacing as well, having finally trapped Sam in a corner. He was going to have to listen now. There was no where to go. Benny rested a knee on the bench and leaned forward into Sam's space; his face was almost amused but his eyes were intense.
"Dean's just about a brother to me," he drawled, "We've been on one wild ride after another, but I gotta tell you, he ain't never been worked over by anyone like he's been worked over by you."
Sam blinked in surprise. "Worked over by me?" he asked with indignation, his voice raising in pitch to be heard over the din of the rain that was now pouring down. "He's the one that lied to me. He -"
"Oh I know," Benny cut him off and then let his eyes roam over Sam for a moment.
The look made Sam squirm but not from any sexual tension or insinuation. Benny's perusal carried the weight of judgement and scorn. It stung to be judged so openly, even as Sam kept reminding himself that he had every right to be angry.
Benny crossed his arms over his chest and continued, "See now, here's what I'm seeing: You hit blast-from-the-past-ville with the chief and it's just too much to let go. I'd say he owes you some back story. I'd say he's chompin' at the bit to tell it."
Sam lifted his chin at that, Dean's pleas echoing in his ears again. He could hear the anguish in that voice as if Dean were standing with them, out of the rain and under the small covering. "What could he tell me that wasn't already on record?"
Sam felt himself flush as soon as the words left his mouth. He was a lawyer, the Assistant District Attorney for fuck's sake, and he knew better than anyone that the record only told the story that those in power wanted to be told. A frigid chill washed over him even in the stifling humid heat of a Texas rainstorm and the nagging guilt that had been inching into his nightmares clawed at his gut. He gasped at the physical jolt of it.
A knowing smirk crept onto Benny's amused face and his empty eyes glazed for a moment before focusing back on Sam. "Aww now, see there? I know you know that's not the god's honest truth. Big lawyer man knows better than that, now don't he?"
Sam stepped back and felt the back wall of the covering bump him, the glossy advertisement pulling his attention for a moment as he looked for an escape route. But Benny would have none of it and he stepped over the bench and pressed Sam back with his imposing stance, almost close enough to touch but not.
"Why are you so high and mighty, little one? Maybe you just like being man meat for every Tom, Dick and Harry." And there it was finally. The spark that Benny had been trying to ignite; get anyone angry enough and the truth will fight to the surface.
"Fuck you!" Sam roared back, straightening to his full height. He looked down at Benny as he continued, an incensed fire burning low in his gut. "I gave Dean everything. All of me. All I asked was for him to be honest. If he wanted me, great, but how can I be sure if he can't even tell me the truth about his life? How do I trust him?" Sam pushed Benny out of his space and then took his own step forward, his temper flaring brighter at Benny's calm demeanor and smooth chuckle.
"You wanna talk trust?" Benny answered. A loud clap of thunder boomed right over their heads, shaking the thin plastic of the bus stop enclosure before he continued, "Why should he have trusted you? The first sign of trouble and you bolt like a jackrabbit what heard the wolf call. Did you even ask about the wolf before you ran?"
Sam opened his mouth to answer but nothing came out. He hadn't asked and he hadn't let Dean explain. He just didn't.
"I didn't think so," was Benny's snide reply to his own question. He sat down on the bench and watched the rain as he spoke again.
"Mostly it's the choices, ya know? So many choices. You can keep running like you are now. That's a choice. You can dig through all the files in the world until you find the answer you like. That's a choice." He finally looked back at Sam, all casual amusement gone. "Or you can let Dean tell you all of it, the stuff that's not in the 'record.' That's a choice."
Sam seemed to shrink in on himself as he sank down on the spot next to Benny on the bench. "I can listen to him but I'm not going to say that I'll take him back," he said softly, his voice almost completely drowned out by the rain. "I have a right to know what happened."
Benny huffed out a humorless laugh. "Naw, son, you're either you're in or you're out. You take him as-is or you get nothing. You don't got the right to nothing that a man don't want to give."
Sam fell quiet, his eyes dropping down to his hands clasped between his knees. The sudden silence surrounding them was punctuated only by the heavy torrent of rainfall battering the little bus stop. Splashes of the thick droplets soaked into the cuffs of their pants and bounced from the tops of their shoes while Sam mentally wrestled with Benny's words. He knew that on every level Benny was right - the choices he had were all laid out before him: listen to what Dean had to say and accept him for the man he was or walk away completely and leave behind the only person that had accepted Sam for who he was, the only person who understood Sam's insecurities and self-doubt and did everything he could to show Sam how perfect he already was no matter what light he was cast in. He began to wonder why he was struggling with which choice to make at all.
Sam said nothing for a long time and Benny simply waited until he was good and ready to speak up. He could tell the boy loved Dean, that much was plain to see. But whether he would make the right choice was a little harder for Benny to fret out. He understood Sam was hurt, damn if he wouldn't be a little sore himself if he was put in those shoes, but Dean deserved a chance to explain - after everything the man had fought through and had fought for, he deserved that much at least.
After a lengthy stretch of time, Sam finally looked up from his hands and cleared his throat. Benny pulled his eyes from the undulating wall of rain outside the bus stop and glanced over at him. The boy still looked weary and wary as all hell, but his eyes were clearer and his shoulders a little straighter. It seemed as if a two ton weight had been lifted from his back. The sight made Benny smile.
"Okay," Sam said after a beat, "I'm in. All the way."
Benny's smile stretched into a grin and he clapped Sam on the shoulder. "I knew you'd come around eventually."
Sam nodded with a small smile and then glanced down to his watch. He looked back up to the sheeting rain and sighed.
"Y'know, I guess I could give you a ride home seeing how I made you miss your bus n' all, as long as you don't mind gettin' a little wet running to my truck over yonder," Benny offered a little sheepishly.
Sam let out a quiet chuckle and stood. "I think I'll take you up on that offer," he said, extending his hand for an amiable shake. "Except, do you mind dropping me off at Dean's instead? We have a lot we need to talk about."
Benny grasped Sam's hand and he pulled him in for a back-slapping hug instead of just a handshake, a swell of pride tightening up his chest. Seemed the boy, no, man standing before him had done a hell of a lot of growing up in the last little bit of time and he was happy he could have been the cause, even if he had played only a small part. Looked like Dean had gone and landed himself a lifer and as far as Benny was concerned, if they could get their heads on straight, he'd landed himself another brother. And he could honest to god say he wouldn't want it any other way.