Chapter 37.
At the farm, lunch was a bacon omelette. Sarah smiled at Dean as he ate his. "In the old days, the eggs would have been from the coop outside."
"It's looking a little battered now." he said. They had walked past it on their way back from the tree that morning. "Don't worry about that, though. I'll bet Bobby can either fix it or make a new one. We can soon get you some chickens."
"I would love to have chickens again." she said, "Have you ever had a pet, Dean?"
He thought for a moment and then said, "No, just Cas, really. I'm not fond of dogs and cats make me sneeze. Truth is, hunting isn't a lifestyle that works well with pets."
"No, I can see that." she said.
"When I was a kid, I always wanted a dog." he said, "And Mom said she'd think about it and then she died and we never got one."
"I thought you said you don't like dogs." she said.
"Yeah, I don't. I did then. I liked all kinds of stuff then that I don't like now."
"Stuff you don't let yourself like now?" she said.
"Is that bad, to stop liking the things you know you can't have? Or is that realistic and a good way to handle disappointment?"
"Is that what they'll put on your tombstone? I can see it now, 'Good with disappointment.'"
"I hope they'll put, 'To be continued.'" he said.
"I like that!" she said.
He grinned. "I thought you would. Not that I'll have a tombstone. It'll be a hunter's funeral for me. A fight, a pyre and a load of stubbled guys in flannel, pouring whisky down their throats. Wouldn't have it any other way."
"But not soon." she said.
"Hopefully not soon." he agreed.
"Are you feeling any better about Castiel and Sam coming later?" she said.
He shook his head. "I never should have asked. They have other things to deal with. I don't even know why I want them here."
"But you do want them?" she said.
"Seems a little stupid and selfish when I don't know why." he said.
"I know you would be there for them." she said, "With or without the details. Let them be there for you."
"Yeah. I think I have to. The lone wolf thing doesn't ever work. I just feel like I'm asking a lot."
"They don't seem to think so."
"I told them to come tonight. They're coming at six." he said, "That's before it even gets dark."
"I'm sure they'd come sooner if you'd let them." she said.
"I keep expecting Cas to call and say he can't make it, but of course, he won't. Even if he and Jules had a hot date planned, he'd give it up if he thought I needed him."
"Which you do."
"I always need them. So what are they supposed to do, drop everything the minute I need them to hold my hand?"
"You've been feeling helpless because Sam is shutting you out of whatever's bothering him. Don't you think he feels the same when you want to handle things alone?"
"You're talking a lot of sense." he said, "I hate when you do that."
"Then why are you still listening?" she said.
"I keep asking myself that."
"And what answer do you get?" she asked.
"I think you can help me and I think I need you to. Not for myself ... not mainly for myself. I want them to stop worrying about me."
"I'm not sure I can work miracles. They will always worry about you."
"Okay, I want them to stop feeling like they have to watch me all the time and protect me from myself. I want Cas to be able to spend time with Jules and not think about where I am and whether I'm okay. I want Sam to stop asking me how I am when it's obvious that he's barely holding it together. I want to be able to ... "
"To ... ?" she prompted.
"To talk to Mom and not have to remember what reassuring lie I'm supposed to be telling."
"That all sounds good to me." she said.
"Sometimes I feel like a weight chained to Cas's feet, You know what his purpose used to be? Watching over the world, protecting humanity. And what does he do now? Worries about me and guards my door."
"How many times have you saved humanity?" she said, "It seems to me that he's still doing the same job."
