Hi readers, I'm back again with another late chapter. I guess better late than never. And I admit...I still didn't quite get to all the angst and pain that I had planned for this chapter. Most had to be deferred to the next chapter to keep the story breaks in the right point. So I hope no one is too disappointed. Fortunately got an extra day to myself to write, so the next chapter is almost ready, and I won't make you wait. Once I'm done, I will edit and post right away. Thanks to all my readers for their patience and special thanks to those who reviewed my last chapter: shadowhuntingdauntlessdemigod, Kathy, SilentDragon02, and Long Live BRUCAS.
Dean was awake, but reluctant to open his eyes. Once he did, the day would officially start and he wanted to put it off for another few minutes. Besides, he'd heard Sam creep out of the room a little while earlier, most likely for a run before the heat of the day built up. Rolling over, Dean finally cracked open one eyelid. Ever the good house guest, Sam had stripped the sheets from the bed and bundled them, ready to be laundered. The blanket was folded neatly at the end. Something about the bare mattress and the empty room made Dean anxious, so reluctantly he sat up on the side of the bed. There was a note propped on Sam's pillow. Reaching across with one hand Dean snagged it.
"Gone for a run, Don't even think about leaving without saying goodbye. Sam."
He let the note drop onto the night table beside him and twisted his back, stretching and rolling the stiffness from his shoulders. He was getting old and today he felt every last one of his years. Last night he'd ended up emoting like a damned girl, but it had been worth it. It made this morning a little easier and although he was still dreading saying goodbye, he'd made his peace with going.
Once he climbed out of the shower and finished his morning ablutions, Dean had followed Sam's lead and pulled the sheets off his bed too. Then he'd gotten dressed and packed his duffel. Dean hadn't brought much with him since, when they'd left the bunker, he hadn't expected to be gone for more than a couple of days. It had only been a week since they'd driven out of the bunkers garage, but so much had happened, that it felt a lot longer. His new blue shirt and purple bandanna were unfamiliar pops of colour among his clothes as he zipped up his bag. He decided to wait for Sam in the kitchen where hopefully he could snag a cup of coffee.
"Morning Dean," said Colin who was sitting at the table, a folded newspaper in front of him. Johnny was at the other end of the table, eating cereal while simultaneously creating something with crayons. Fiona and Sharron were packing up some boxes on the kitchen counter. Dean recognized some of the items as coming from Fiona's home on Friday. Dropping his bag by the door, he gave the room a mumbled something that he hoped sounded vaguely like "good morning."
"Good morning, Dean," Sharron answered as Dean made a beeline for the coffee maker. He gave her a tight smile as he poured himself a cup and took the seat across from Colin. The first hot sip helped ease Dean back into the land of the living. Fiona came over to bring Jonathan some juice.
"Can I get you some breakfast Dean? There's cereal on the table, but we have some bagels left, or I can make you some eggs if you'd like?"
"Oh, thanks, no. Cereal's fine." She brought him a bowl, spoon and a carton of milk and he poured out a helping.
"What's a woman's name that means gazelle? 7 letters," Colin asked, looking up from his crossword and tapping his pencil against his lips as he thought. Sharron and Fiona both shook their heads, but once he'd swallowed his mouthful Dean answered confidently.
"Tabitha." Colin hiked an eyebrow his way.
"Yeah, that fits. How on earth did you know that?" Dean remembered one extremely erotic night a few years back with a girl named Tabitha who had a gazelle tattoo on the inside of her right thigh. But glancing at Johnny, he kept that to himself.
"Uh, I think I read it somewhere." He shrugged, turning his attention back to his breakfast.
"Colin?" asked Sharron, "could you please help your sister bring this stuff out to her car?" Colin put down his pencil and pushed to his feet. Dean half stood, happy to help but Sharron waved him off. "Finish eating Dean, Colin can do it." Before picking up the box Sharron had pointed to, Colin swept his wife literally off her feet and swung her around.
"Colin is strong!" he roared in a parody of a caveman before putting Sharron down and kissing her soundly. Fiona smacked him on the shoulder and rolled her eyes.
"Come on, lover boy. You can make out with your woman later," she joked as she shoved the back door with her hip. With a final peck, Colin grabbed the box and followed Fiona out to where the cars were parked. Sharron looked after her husband with love in her eyes. Dean pretended to study the cereal box when she glanced his way, a blush staining her cheeks.
Before she could say anything a cell phone trilled. Sharron picked her phone up from the counter and looked at the screen, then looked at Jonathan and Dean.
"Uh, could you keep an eye on him for a few minutes? I have to take this." At Dean's nod, she headed into the living room. As he crunched on a spoonful of his breakfast Dean watched his nephew. This might be the first time he was alone with the boy. Which made sense. Most parents wouldn't leave a small child alone with a strange man. So he wondered if this meant that they didn't consider him a stranger anymore.
Jonathan was hunched over his work of art, tongue firmly clenched between his teeth as he concentrated. There was so much of Sam in that gesture that Dean inhaled a muffled gasp, but enough sound must have escaped that the little guy looked up from his drawing.
"Mommy said you're going home today." It wasn't really a question, but Dean felt like he had to say something.
"Uh, yeah, I am." He wanted to offer reassurances that he'd be back and he'd see Johnny soon, but he couldn't bring himself to lie to the child. Jonathan nodded solemnly and then wiggled down off his chair, dragging the sheet of paper he'd been working on with him.
"I drawed this for you," the boy said, thrusting the sheet at Dean. Taking the piece of paper, he shoved his bowl aside and smoothed it out on the table. It looked like a set of hieroglyphics in crayon, so he scooped Jonathan up and set him on the table next to the drawing. Using his arm as a bracket to prevent the boy from falling, he leaned in close to examine his gift.
"So, why don't you tell me about it?" he asked, not wanting to hurt the kid's feelings by not interpreting things correctly. Judging by his blinding smile, Jonathan was more than happy to explain.
"That's mommy," he said as he poked a chubby finger at one of the stick figures. The orange hair might have been a clue had Dean recognized it as hair and not an explosion.
"That's Sebastian." The grey blob with 5 legs now also made sense, so Dean nodded encouragingly.
"That's Daddy," Johnny continued, pointing at the tallest figure. Dean suppressed a snicker at the flowing brown locks the child had given Sam.
"And that's you!" the little guy chirped enthusiastically. His portrait was topped with spiky, hedgehog-like hair, but Dean figured at least he was only slightly shorter than Sam in the drawing. There was one more small figure on the page and Dean tilted his head to meet hazel eyes that were both familiar and new.
"Is that you?" he asked carefully.
"Yup," declared Jonathan, swinging his legs happily.
"Well it's an awesome picture, thank you." Dean gently squeezed the little shoulder.
"You can keep it and 'den you'll remember us when you go home." His nephew's innocent kindness was like a stab in the heart. He was still sure of his decision, but Dean had to admit that he was going to miss more than just Sam when he left. As he struggled to find something to say that would make sense to a 5 year old, Sharron came back into the kitchen. Fiona and Colin arrived at the same time and suddenly the kitchen was full of conversation again and the moment had passed. Dean lifted Johnny down and set him on his red and blue sneakers.
The screen door behind him creaked and three more people entered the room. Declan, Ethan and Jacob were all carrying their bags. Johnny ran over to greet his uncles and Declan crouched down to talk with him while the other men got coffee. Last to enter the room was Sam. He crept in from the living room, his hair damp from what had to have been the quickest shower on record. A flicker of relief crossed his face when he caught sight of Dean, but it was replaced with a smile before anyone else would have noticed. Folding his gift, Dean made his way over to his brother, stopping to tuck the drawing into his bag.
"Good run?" he asked quietly.
"Yeah. I just needed to burn off some nervous energy, you know?" Dean wasn't into running the way Sam was, but he understood. Part of him was dying to jump in the car and get out on the road, but another part of him wanted to cling to these last few minutes with his brother.
"Well, everyone, it's been a slice, but we've got to hit the road," announced Ethan, before shouldering his bag and gesturing towards where Sharron and Colin were standing. "Thanks for everything you guys." Sharron gave him a hug before moving on to Jacob and her other brother-in-law. Colin clapped them both on the back and followed them as they moved towards the door. Ethan waved at him and Sam, but Jacob came over and held out his hand, first to Sam and then to Dean.
"See you later, Sam. It was nice meeting you, Dean. Thanks for the drive yesterday," he said as he shook their hands. Then everyone moved out onto the porch to say goodbye. Declan was catching a ride back to town with them, so once the dust settled on the driveway, Dean was starting to feel like the last guest at a party. It was time to go. The adults were scattered around the kitchen, chatting and lingering over a second cup of coffee.
"Well, I guess I'd better head out too," said Dean as he picked up his duffel.
"You know you're welcome to stay longer, Dean," Colin stated while Sharron nodded.
"Thank you," he replied even as he shook his head. "I've got work I've got to get back to." Colin accepted his refusal with a sympathetic look.
"I understand, but you're welcome here any time." As her husband spoke, Sharron appeared with a large bag that she handed to Dean.
"Here's some sandwiches and some snacks for the road." He took it from her with a smile of thanks. She leaned in and gave him a firm hug which he returned one handed. "Don't be a stranger, Dean," she said in a wistful tone. Again, Dean found himself tempted by the offer of being part of this family, people who were accepting and loving. But the image of Crowley, decked out like a damn priest knocking on their door made it easier to resist that temptation. The best thing he could do to keep them safe and off of the radar of all the evil things out there, was to get back on the job. If he can figure out how to deal with Amara, hopefully he'll keep the focus off of Sam and the MacCallums, and give his brother a chance for the life Dean had to turn down.
"Thanks," he said for a second time, regret staining the word. Johnny bounced over before things could get too emotional.
"Bye Uncle Dean," he shouted in that odd way that children have. Dean ruffled the dark curls.
"Bye Buddy, you take care of your Mom and Dad, okay?" Dean let his fingers linger in the soft hair for a fraction of a moment longer before stepping away. Fiona came to join her son.
"You too, Dean," she said softly, balancing against his free arm to stand on her tiptoes and kiss his cheek. "Thanks for everything." He quirked half a grin at her, then with a final wave to the room, turned and fled to the porch. Sam was at his shoulder all the way to the car, hovering as Dean put his duffel into the trunk and the bag of food into the passenger seat. Maybe keeping it there would make the seat seem a little less empty. Finally there was nothing left to do but say goodbye.
xxxxxxx
Sam watched as Dean stowed his gear. This was all a little surreal. Dean was going. Not just to check on a lead, or hit up a bar for a few hours or even away for a few days to deal with a simple solo hunt. This time Dean was going for good. Sam knew his brother better than anyone, and Dean couldn't entirely hide his feelings from him. He'd been genuinely sad as he said goodbye just now. Which he wouldn't be if he had any intention of coming back.
The logical part of Sam's brain got it. There were a lot of sinister and dangerous things that would love to hurt him, Dean or anyone they cared about. It was why they had few friends since neither of them wanted to put anyone else at risk. An unwanted image of Charlie's broken body flashed through his memory along with the crushing guilt he felt over her death. People who got close to him died. It had been a big factor to consider when he'd been deciding whether to stay or not. And he knew it was something that weighed heavily on Dean's mind too.
So intellectually he understood why Dean planned to leave and not return, but emotionally, he was wrecked. Who was he without his brother? Every other time he'd lost Dean, he'd been a complete mess, making bad decisions, being reckless, hiding from the world. He prayed that this time, knowing that Dean was at least still out there, a phone call away, he wouldn't make the same mistakes.
"So, uh, I'll send you your clothes and stuff as soon as I'm back." Sam couldn't meet Dean's eyes, not if he wanted to keep the tears at bay. He took a deep breath through his nose.
"Sure," he said. "Call and let me know when you get back to the bunker." This inane small talk felt bizarre. There was so much he wanted to say, but he'd used up all his meaningful words last night. Dean nodded and glanced up at him. There was a damp sparkle in those green eyes.
"Sam," Dean began but trailed off as Sam waited patiently. Dean chewed his lip then dragged a hand down his face. "You're gonna be fine, okay. But if you need anything, just...just call me." Sam couldn't speak, so he just nodded a lot, his damp hair swinging forward to brush his cheeks. A rogue tear slid from one eye and he dashed it away.
"C'mere," Dean whispered as he wrapped an arm around Sam's neck and pulled him down into a hug. Sam closed his eyes and tried to imprint this feeling into his memory forever. He clutched at Dean's shirt tightly for a moment, not wanting to let go, but eventually he forced himself to pull away, wiping the back of his hand across his eyes as he did. Dean just cleared his throat, pulled open the door and slid behind the wheel. With a final caress for the only home he'd ever really known, Sam firmly shut the door. Dean rolled down the window and turned the engine on. The familiar rumble vibrated through Sam as he stepped back. With a final two fingered wave, Dean pulled out and headed down the driveway. Once upon a time, in some book somewhere, Sam had read that if you watched someone you love leaving until you couldn't see them anymore, then you'd never see them again. Normally he had no patience with superstition, but just before the black car turned onto the road and was hidden by the trees, Sam closed his eyes.
He couldn't quite face Fiona and the others just yet. For a long while, Sam sat on the steps, translating a summoning ritual from Latin to Farsi in his head to avoid thinking. If he let himself think, he wasn't sure that he wouldn't call Dean and beg him to come back. The distraction was somewhat successful because although he heard the door open behind him, he was surprised when skinny arms snaked around his neck. Johnny's solid, warm body pressed against his back in a hug and he patted the tiny hands that were clasped under his chin.
"Are you sad?" the little guy asked. He was, but sorrow wasn't something he could burden a child with. Plus, he was also eager and happy to get to know this small person who had already become such a huge part of his heart.
"Yes," he answered simply. Jonathan slid around his body to crawl into Sam's lap. The boy's arms were still around Sam's neck and the boy stared up at his face from inches away.
"Why?" he chirped in his child's voice, his innocence beaming from him like a ray of light.
"Because I'm going to miss my brother." He gave his son a wobbly smile. Johnny stared at him some more before suddenly leaning in to tighten his bird like arms and rest his chin on Sam's shoulder.
"Does this help?" he whispered in Sam's ear. Gently he hugged the small body as tightly as he dared.
"Yes, it does," Sam whispered back, nuzzling slightly into Johnny's soft hair which smelled like shampoo and grass. How could a heart that was breaking also feel like bursting? Jonathan pulled back, and Sam reluctantly released him.
"You can borrow Sebastian to keep you company." The stuffie was then carefully propped up beside him on the step. When the toy was appropriately positioned, Johnny stared up at him and a small hand reached up to touch his cheek.
"I love you, Daddy," Johnny said solemnly. Sam's breath caught as his heart swelled with joy that felt both unfamiliar and undeserved.
"I love you too," he replied softly, hoping that his son could feel all the emotion those words were too minusculeto contain. A grin crept across Jonathan's face like a sunrise, and then the boy wiggled away to run up to his mother who had just come out of the house.
Fiona had her purse over her shoulder and car keys in her hand. Sam went over and studied how she deftly buckled Johnny into his booster seat in the back seat, a skill he'd need to learn. Once the boy was secured, Fiona turned to him.
"Are you alright? I know with Dean leaving…" she let her words trail away, looking uncomfortable.
"I'm fine," Sam lied. "I'll talk to him tonight." He gave her a smile that felt forced, but apparently looked authentic enough that she took him at his word.
"Okay, well, we need to run into town. I'm going to check at the store, run a little laundry and pack up some stuff for the week." She rattled off the list of items casually until she looked him. Then a flush tinted her cheeks. "Sorry, I never thought...uh, did you want to come with us?"
Sam wanted to spend as much time with Johnny as possible, but it was fairly obvious that she hadn't planned on his company and had only asked to be polite. He almost suggested that their son stay here with him, but immediately wondered if it was too soon to expect unsupervised time with the child. After all, Fiona still didn't really know him very well, so he waved her suggestion away.
"No, that's fine. I'm going to ask Colin or Sharron to show me my new accommodations." The relief that crossed her face let him know he'd given the right answer.
"Well, uh, we should go. We'll probably be back around lunch." She started to get in the car, but stopped and touched his arm. "You and I can talk some more then," she said as she slid into the vehicle. Glancing at his watch, it was just about 8:30, and he wondered how he was going to spend the morning. Sam stepped back and Johnny waved at him through the window as Fiona swung the silver Honda around. He waved back until the car was halfway down the long drive.