AN: More talking and working through things! Writing this kind of stuff gives me so many feels. Yeesh. Almost done, though. Just an epilogue after this.
Leann: Aw, thank you so much! That's especially nice to hear because I struggled so much to write the last chapter. Gracias!
Unnamed guest: How nice! Thanks for your review and kind words!
Lena: You know I stress myself out. It's a gift of mine. I'm just so pleased that you like it. You are just the nicest person ever, which is why it makes me so happy to do a story for you. And thank you for being so specific about the details that you like. I find it very helpful!
Blondie: I tried to keep it realistic! I'm exactly the same about Dean's ships. He and Bela had sparks, didn't they? And I really liked Lisa, and felt for her. Though in all honesty, I prefer the eps that focus on the boys. Thanks, always, for your reviews.
Sam gratefully stretched his bad leg out to rest his foot on the seat Dean had just abandoned. He barely held in a heart-felt groan. If Dean had any idea just how much he hurt, he'd bundle him off the motel in a heartbeat, but Sam knew he needed this time with Ben.
The meal – KFC at a picnic table behind the house – had been surprisingly comfortable. Sam had expected Ben to act hurt and angry. It's certainly how a teenage Sam would have reacted. But Ben had had some time to think about this, and a terrifying experience that probably put things into perspective. He was transparently glad to see Dean, but was almost shy around Sam. When Dean had asked if Ben would like to help him put the new radiator in Baby, the kid jumped at the chance – literally.
"Hey, Ben, Dean's got a bum shoulder, and he'd getting up there in age," Sam called with a grin. "Do the heavy lifting for him, would ya?" Sam's smiled widened at the glare Dean sent him, but he'd been half serious, about the injury at least. Dean should not be lifting the radiator.
"Okay!" Ben was obvious eager to be of use. "I'll take good care of the old guy."
Dean acted like he was going to smack the back of Ben's head, and Ben ducked with a laugh.
Lisa handed Sam a fresh beer and sat next to him. They watched Dean direct Ben on what needed to be done for a while. They sat in silence, both reminiscing. Sam thought of all the times that Dean had instructed him on caring for the car, and how Sam would feign ignorance just to extend the time they spent together. He would have bet good money that Lisa was thinking of earlier times Dean and Ben had worked on cars together.
"Looks like Ben's going to choose to stay in touch with Dean," Lisa mused. "I think that will be good."
It will be good for Dean, too, Sam thought. "I'm glad," he said aloud. Sam sipped his beer, smiling at the way Ben mirrored Dean's pose of leaning on the car with his forearms.
They watched in silence for a while longer. Sam could feel the glances Lisa was throwing his way, and he wasn't surprised when she spoke. "I used to be so jealous of you, you know."
Sam made a sound of agreement, encouraging her to keep talking. They'd developed a friendly rapport over the years, though they didn't talk often.
Lisa sighed. She picked at the label on her own beer, which looked untouched. "Dean was never really mine. Not like he's yours." She tucked one leg under her in a way that couldn't possibly be comfortable. "I don't mean that in a weird way. Just that as much as I loved having him with us, he was never whole. I – I convinced myself he was just mourning, but when you came back I realized…I was finally seeing the real Dean."
"I'm sorry." Sam was. He didn't feel very worthy of the amount of the devotion that Dean had for him. And part of him wished – hard – that Dean could have had Lisa and Ben. Or another family. Sam respected Lisa too much to lie to her or pretend that she was wrong. Maybe if Sam had found love first, and they weren't hunting, it might have worked out for Dean. He knew Dean had loved them, even if he felt split in two while he was with them. Dean had admitted once that staying with them felt like betraying Dad, because he wasn't using what he'd been taught to protect the world. Yet he didn't want Lisa and Ben dragged into that world. And he felt that if he didn't stay with them, he'd be betraying practically Sam's final wish.
"Things have been stacked against Dean his whole life," Sam said softly. "He never had a choice but to know about and fight the things that are out there, or to watch out for me. He was pushed toward both before he was old enough for school, and with his naturally protective nature, he's never been able to give up either one."
Lisa shook her head a little, looking frustrated and amused. "I know what you're saying, and you sound exactly like Dean." She shook her finger at him a little. "You don't think you deserve him. Well, news flash! He doesn't think he deserves you. But here's what it comes down to: you've both saved the world and the rest of us are just living it in. There's never going to be anyone who can relate to that, not the way you two can."
The thought floored Sam. "I didn't – I just did the best I could with what I had in front of me. Dean – "
"Don't be an idiot. You two, both of you, just don't see it. You're heroes, but it makes for a lonely life. Despite everything, I'm grateful Dean was with us as much as he could be, but I could never live in his world. So because I love Dean, I'm glad he's got you. He would have been miserable as an only child."
Sam grimaced a little, even as he was amused by the fact that Dean was currently lying on his back on the driveway pretending to be mortally wounded while Ben rolled his eyes and tried not to smile. Good luck with that, kid. "Well, I owe you a huge thank you for being there for Dean when I couldn't. He and I…don't do well alone." And wasn't that the understatement of the year?
Sam hid a wince. He remembered how Dean had transformed from a social drinker to a heavy drinker and from a flirt to a womanizer while Sam was at Stanford. He remembered his own drinking jags, looking for fights with bar patrons, crossroad demons, basically anyone who was willing to take a swing when Dean was in Hell. He thought of deals and bargains with angels, demons, and witches, of a willingness to release the Darkness on the world. "We really, really don't."
And Lisa, bless her, laughed. "I get that now." There was a lingering sadness in her eyes, but acceptance too. She touched Sam's sleeve. "Not that long ago, I talked to you and you sounded terrible, and you admitted that you were really worried about Dean. I don't get that from you now, but it seems like you're still worried about something. Whatever's going on, it's big, isn't it?"
Sam squirmed a little in his seat, reminded, oddly, of how perceptive Bobby could be. Well, in for a penny, in for a pound. "Dean's okay now, but yeah, we're facing something big. What else is new?" The last came out a little more resigned than he'd intended.
Lisa was studying his face, her head tipped to the side. "That should scare me more than it does. But the world is in good hands. So I'm just going to keep living like everything's fine."
Sam's eyes stung. "Do that," he said, a little huskily. "Because that's what keeps us going." Sam finished his beer before continuing. "By the way, all of the demons that knew about you two are dead. And their king kind of owes us, so there shouldn't be any more problems."
"The demon king owes you. Of course he does," Lisa answered, looking bemused. "But I guess that's good then."
"It is NOT crooked!" Ben's voice carried to them, sounding mock offended. "I think you need glasses. Bifocals, probably."
"Glasses?! You just need to put a little muscle on those flabby arms and freaking set it in there straight!" Dean's outrage was loud and clear.
"Forget the glasses," scoffed Ben with teenage insouciance. "I think you have cataracts."
Sam looked at Lisa. Despite the heavy conversation and all the physical pain Sam was feeling, they both burst into laughter. Ben and Dean gave them identical looks of confusion, as if completely unaware of their own antics, but that only made Sam and Lisa laugh harder.
When they'd finally settled down, and the guys fixing the car had gone back to their work with an air of our family members are so strange, Lisa gave Sam another of her long, perceptive looks. "Take care of him, Sam."
Sam nodded. They both knew he didn't need the reminder. "Yeah, that's kind of my job."
WINCHESTER * WINCHESTER
As they packed to go, Dean kept waiting for Sam to push him to talk. Actually, all of the waiting was really messing with the pleasant buzz he had going from having a great evening with Ben the night before and finally giving in and taking the pain killers. (Sam, the wet blanket, had said Dean wasn't allowed to drive his own car if he didn't have full range of motion in his arm.)
Speaking of Sam, Dean knew he was going to initiate the annoying conversation, and Sam knew he knew, so why didn't he just do it? The waiting sucked. Dean hated waiting.
"Just say it," he growled, losing his fight for patience.
"Say what?" asked Sam, pretending to be all innocent.
"Ask me what you want to ask me!"
Sam had the temerity to look confused. "What do I want to ask you?"
Dean put his socks away in the bag with more force than necessary. A lot more force. "If I'm going to stay in touch with Ben. If I want to do the blood test to find out if he's actually mine. If I trust that Crowley will take care of that Prickle demon. How I freaking feel."
"Do you want to talk about how you feel?" asked Sam, as wide-eyed and innocent as a newborn baby. Damn little brothers.
"No!" Dean burst out. "I just figured you'd be all about the touchy-feely crap and tell me this was a complex situation, so it's okay to have complex feelings or something stupid like that."
"Well, if that's what you need me to say, Dean – "
"No! I don't, you just," Dean deflated. "Fine. Yes, I'm coming back in two weeks so he can help me with Baby when some parts come it to the local salvage yard. He's thinking about looking at getting a job there. No, no test, because it doesn't really matter; he's part of my life either way. And I'm calling Crowley to make sure he does what he said. There. Happy?"
Sam was suspiciously straight-faced and Dean had the distinct impression that he'd been managed. "I'm always willing to listen when you need to talk about your feelings."
"You need to shut up now, Sam."
"It's okay to be a sensitive guy. Like you said, your feelings are complex."
"So help me, you need to stop talking."
"I respect your ability to stay in touch with your tender side."
"I will shoot you."