Chapter 7: I Will Find You
It was evident when we returned to the bar that the others had read the letter. Bill was pale with shock, Ellen was crying in his arms, and Bobby looked furious. The letter itself was on the floor by the table, and the documents and photos were scattered across the tabletop.
"That goddamn sonofabitch! I knew that John Winchester could be a stubborn, thickheaded idjit, but I never suspected he was this much of a fucking bastard, to abandon his own kid and keep that a secret from the other for so long!" Bobby growled when he saw us walk in. "If the moron wasn't dead already, I'd kill him my own damn self!"
Ellen lifted her head and looked at us mournfully. "I'm so sorry for the both of you! You were so happy the past few weeks, and now it's all over. If only that asshole had told you the truth earlier, Sam . . ."
"Except that it ain't over, Mom. Sam and I aren't breaking up, not over this or anything else." Dean held up our clasped hands almost defiantly.
"Honey, you can't do that—he's your brother!" she protested.
"Technically he is, but not in any way that really matters," he retorted. "I don't think of Sam like how I do Jo since he and I weren't raised together, so the idea of being in love with him doesn't freak me out the way it would with her. Sam is my boyfriend, not my little brother, and that damn letter ain't gonna change that."
"I was upset at first too, but I've come to realize that it's actually good Dad didn't tell me any of this before. If I'd known about Dean sooner, there's no way I wouldn't have come here right away to get to know my long-lost brother and his family. Then the demon or its minions would've come after you just like they did to everyone else I care about, and some or all of you could've been killed just like Mom, Dad, Jess, and Pastor Jim." I paused for a moment. "Not knowing at the time also meant that Dad didn't die with his son enraged at him or possibly even hating him over the secrets he'd kept from me.
"I'm also glad on a more selfish level. If I'd come here knowing that Dean is my brother, either I wouldn't have developed more than platonic feelings for him or I wouldn't have dared to act on them, and then I would've missed out on the best thing that ever happened to me," I added. "Being with him and loving him is what pulled me out of the abyss I'd been spiraling into and gave me the strength to move on. Forcing myself to try to just be his brother would be giving up the only thing providing real meaning to my life."
"I understand how important this is for you and for Dean and how much this is going to hurt," Bill said sympathetically. "But that doesn't make your relationship right, son. We're talking about incest here, which is both illegal and immoral."
"But why exactly is what we have wrong? The usual reasons why incest is so terrible don't apply to us," I argued. "We're consenting adults, so there's no child abuse or any kind of sexual assault going on. We're both guys, so there's no chance of inbreeding. Absolutely no one is hurt by Dean and I being together."
"Isn't this sudden pearl-clutching kinda hypocritical, considering how little our community pays attention to the 'rules?' Hunters regularly commit breaking and entering, theft, vandalism, grave desecration, and a whole buncha other crimes just to do their damn jobs, not to mention most of 'em relying on credit card fraud, gambling, and shit like that to support themselves. What our family does here ain't exactly on the up-and-up either, between making fake IDs and forging other docs, impersonating law enforcement officials, modifying unregistered weapons, running an unlicensed medical clinic, and harboring the occasional fugitive. If you're fine with all that other 'illegal and immoral' crap, then why is me and Sam being in love such a fucking problem?" Dean pointed out a bit acerbically.
"You said that this doesn't hurt anyone, but what happens if someone else, someone who's not willing to keep quiet, learns the truth?" Ellen demanded. "You boys could lose everything and even go to jail if this ever got out, and that would affect the rest of us too!"
"That is a risk, but honestly it's a very small one. The only proof that Dean Winchester even existed is either in that envelope or in the fading memories of people who knew our family over two decades ago, and there's virtually nothing to tie him to Dean Harvelle besides that letter," I explained patiently. "The biggest danger is running into someone who remembers Mom well, but we can always use a glamour or suggestion spell to keep them from noticing the resemblance between her and Dean. Beyond that, as long as Dean never has to take a genetic test, and more specifically as long as there's no reason to compare the results to my DNA or that of another relative, it's highly unlikely anyone will be able to figure out that we're brothers."
Bill sighed. "Listen, boys, we're all very upset right now and not thinking too clearly, so we need a chance to calm down. I think it might be best if Sam leaves with Bobby for a while, a few weeks at least. Being apart will give you the opportunity to let your emotions settle down and realize what's actually best for the two of you, instead of making a hasty decision that you'll regret."
Dean shook his head vehemently. "I'm sorry, Dad, but that ain't gonna happen. The only way Sam's leaving is if I go with him. Separating us ain't gonna change our minds, 'cause this isn't some dumbass spur-of-the-moment decision we made without considering the consequences or 'cause we're only thinking with our dicks or any crap like that. We love each other and are going to be together, no matter what."
"And what if we insist, Dean?" Ellen asked softly but implacably. "Are you going to pick this boy you barely even know over your own family—your real family, the one that raised you and loved you for most of your life? I like Sam, I really do, and I'll be glad to accept him as your brother, but is he really worth ruining your life over?"
Dean looked stricken but tightened his grip on my hand and stepped closer to me. "Please don't make me chose between you, Mom! How long we've been together don't matter, because I know Sam deep inside me—and you know that he's not just some fling, he's the man I want to be my mate. I'll always love you and be grateful for everything you've done for me, but if you turn this into some kinda ultimatum, you're not gonna like the results."
Bill put a hand on his wife's shoulder. "We're not trying to do that, I promise. You mean too much to us to ever try to drive away—you're our son, and we love you. We just want what's best for you—and this . . . this can't be it, Dean."
Bobby, who'd been quietly observing us this whole time, suddenly spoke up. "Alright, that's enough! Bill, Ellen, I get how upset you are—this is a huge shock to all of us, and it ain't anything any of us could've expected or wanted. But the fact remains that you simply can't stand in the way of these boys loving each other . . . because Sam and Dean are true mates."
"That—that's not possible! How can you even claim something as crazy as that, Bobby Singer?" Ellen shot back angrily.
Bobby spread his hands. "Listen, you know I ain't some gooey-eyed romantic. Ninety-five percent of the time, 'love at first sight' is horseshit—it's no more than lust at first sight, 'cause you can't truly love someone you don't really know. But that's not what's happened here. I've got a fresher perspective from not being here day in and day out, but I've also talked to both Sam and Dean plenty of times over the past month, more than enough to figure out what's going on.
"What I've seen and heard makes it clear that Sam and Dean truly love each other and that their bond goes down to their souls. I could tell right from the start, from how these boys somehow already knew each other so well, from how they connected so quickly on a level far more than just physical, from how being together saved Sam from the dark place he was heading to and got Dean to come outta his protective shell, that they shared something special. Watching 'em now, how strong and determined they are to stay together despite everything, just clinches the deal," he continued.
"True mates being so closely related is pretty damn rare, but it ain't unheard of. Maybe Sam and Dean wouldn't have had this kinda bond if they'd grown up together, or maybe someone upstairs was trying to do 'em a favor by separating them so young, so that they weren't forced to fight against familial instincts when they're meant to be something more. Either way, their relationship is what it is, regardless of whether society approves of it. The love between true mates is something to be honored and cherished, and it ain't any of our places to try to keep these boys apart." Bobby crossed his arms and stared at Ellen and Bill.
Dean and I looked at each other in surprise, and then I turned to Bobby. "This . . . this wasn't anything that we were expecting! I mean, legitimate cases of true mates are so uncommon that many people think they're only found in fairy tales and romance novels. I know what I feel for Dean is different than how I've felt toward anyone else, and it's the same for him, but actually being true mates never occurred to either of us."
"I hear ya, boy. When you consider the evidence though, it's pretty damn hard to miss! And since there's nothing anyone can do to change what's between you two, all we can do is try our best to be there for you kids. Speaking of which . . ." He looked challengingly at Dean's parents.
Bill took a deep, shaky breath. "I get what you're saying, Bobby, but this is a lot to take in all at once! We—we're going to need some time to get used to this situation, and . . . to be honest, I'm not entirely sure if we'll ever be able to fully accept it."
"This doesn't change how we feel about you though—either of you," Ellen added. "Dean, we'll always love you and do what we can to support you, even if you being with your brother still sticks in our craw. And Sam, you're already like a son to us, even under these screwed-up circumstances. You just need to give us a chance to wrap our heads around everything that's happened."
"Why don't you two head back to your place for the night and give your folks a little space? I'll stay here and help them out, at least until Jo gets here—and maybe drag that idjit Ash out to lend a hand too. I'll come by to see how you're doing later tonight, and in the meantime I'll talk all this over some more with Ma and Pa Harvelle," Bobby suggested.
"That sounds like a good idea—we could use some time to let this sink in too. And thanks for having our backs, old man." Dean then approached his parents somewhat hesitantly. "Is—is that okay with you? I don't wanna leave you guys in the lurch, and I'm not just talking 'bout the bar tonight."
"We'll be alright, honey. We'll find a way to make this work, because that's what family does. You both go on home for now, and we'll sit down and discuss everything later." Ellen pulled him into a fierce hug, and then to my surprise came over and gave me one as well.
Bill clasped Dean's arm and gave me a nod, and then we headed out back and piled into the Impala. The drive home was fairly quiet, both of us lost in our own thoughts, though Dean did reach out to grasp my hand and give it a reassuring squeeze before popping a Metallica tape into the cassette player. Since neither of us was in the mood to cook dinner, we made a short detour to pick up a large supreme pizza and a side of cheesy garlic bread before heading to the apartment.
I waited until we'd each finished a couple slices and most of a bottle of beer before groaning, "God, what a messed up day! How are you feeling, man?"
"I dunno yet, to be honest. I guess I'm still kinda shell-shocked . . . and worried 'bout how Mom and Dad are gonna take this. We got lucky that Bobby's taking our side, and I'm hoping that he can talk them around," Dean replied, setting his plate down. "What I am sure about is that I'm real glad I still have you, Sammy. I can handle whatever else comes our way as long as we're together."
I slid an arm around his shoulders. "Me too, babe. I'll always be awed that I found someone so amazing who loves me as much as I love you, and I plan to hold onto you as tightly as possible. For now, I'm keeping my fingers crossed that your parents will accept us sooner or later. Are you going to tell the rest of your family?"
"I don't wanna keep something so major a secret from my sister or my best friend, so I'll them 'em . . . but not right away. I think it's better to wait a few days to let things calm down a bit before potentially stirring it all up again," he said. "What about your old man—how pissed are you at him?"
"I'm not really sure either—my emotions are all jumbled up. Part of me is absolutely furious that Dad kept us apart for so long and never had the guts to tell me before he died," I answered. "But I'm also glad that you had a better life as a result and didn't have to go through the same shit I did. I—I'm humbled by how much he gave up to try to keep both of us safe. And I can't help feeling relieved that we didn't find out until now, so that the truth couldn't get in the way of our falling in love."
"Amen to that! Of course, we gotta figure out this whole true mates business too. The funny thing is, deep down inside I ain't really surprised. Like you said earlier, it wasn't something I'd thought about until Bobby told us, but once he did, I realized that I already knew in here." He picked up my other hand and placed it over his heart.
"Same here. We'll have to decide at some point what we want to do about it, but we've got plenty of time. For right now, we should simply enjoy what we have." With that, I tugged him onto my lap and bent down to kiss him deeply.
"The last box has finally been unpacked," I announced as I walked into the kitchen. I headed over to where Dean was working at the stove, put an arm around his waist, and sniffed appreciatively. "Something smells delicious! What's for dinner?"
He turned his head to kiss me before responding, "Chicken carbonara, and there's breadsticks in the oven. Guess we're officially settled into the new place, huh?"
The "new place" referred to our apartment near the University of Chicago. It was slightly smaller and a good bit older than the one in Nebraska, but its location just south of the main campus and right next to the law school was ideal. A short corridor connected the front entry to the fairly spacious living room, which in turn led to a separate dining room and small kitchen, while another small hallway off the living room opened onto the main bedroom, bathroom, and second bedroom that was now a study and workshop. The unit had been renovated recently with refinished oak floors throughout, engineered stone countertops, and new appliances and fixtures and accommodated our furniture just fine.
We'd left Broken Bow early in the morning the day after Christmas and reached Chicago that evening, with me driving the moving truck and Dean following in the Impala (my Jeep was left behind at the Roadhouse given the costs of parking in the city). The week between our arrival and the start of my classes was a flurry of assembling and arranging furniture, unpacking and organizing belongings, and exploring our new neighborhood. I'd been going to classes and my work-study position at the library for three weeks now, and Dean had begun his new job as an EMT working out of the university hospital a few days after the start of the semester. I was still working on convincing him to apply to colleges in the area to finish his engineering degree.
"Seems like it. Is there anything I can do to help?" I asked.
"You can get the plates and shit out and pull a coupla bottles of beer from the fridge. Food should be ready in about five minutes," he replied, turning his attention back to the stove.
I grabbed two bottles of El Sol from the fridge and set the table for two, then helped Dean carry out the bowl of pasta, plate of breadsticks, and appropriate condiments shortly afterward. As always, the food tasted just as good as it smelled, and silence reigned for several minutes as our attention was devoted to filling our plates and then our stomachs.
"Ash called earlier to hook me up with a buddy of his from MIT who's got a machine shop out in Oak Park and is willing to let me use his equipment after hours or on the weekends a few times a month, which is pretty awesome," he commented after the edges of our hunger had been blunted. "Then Mom took the phone from him and wanted to know how soon we'd be back to visit. I told her it was too soon to get offa work for spring break, but hopefully we can head over between the winter and spring terms."
"I'm just glad that they want to see both of us, especially with how awkward those first weeks were after getting that damn letter. Of course, seeing them would be a whole lot easier if someone wasn't deathly afraid of flying," I pointed out with a grin.
"Planes crash, and unlike driving I got no control over what's going on! If you wanna get me in one of those tin-can deathtraps, there better be a fuck-ton of Valium and blow jobs involved," he retorted, before stuffing half of a breadstick into his mouth and then chewing noisily.
I rolled my eyes. "Gross, man! Seriously though, are you sure you'll be okay with waiting so long? This will be the longest you've been away from home, and—"
"And you don't wanna see a repeat of when I was six happen again—I get that," he interjected. "I'm a helluva lot stronger now though than when I was a little kid. More importantly, home now is here with you, Sammy. As long as we're together and have someplace to call our own, I'll be fine. So you don't hafta worry so much about me, okay?"
"Hey, I'm your alpha, so it's part of my job to look after you, especially after everything you did for me when we first met," I said. "Speaking of taking care of you, don't make any plans for tomorrow evening. I've got reservations at Gibsons Steakhouse for your birthday."
"Dude, you had me at steak! Though you don't need to make a big deal 'bout it, since it's not a milestone birthday or anything special," he responded, looking a bit abashed.
"Sure it is—this is your first birthday since we've been a couple! So just let me fuss over you!" I reached out and squeezed his hand.
It was his turn to roll his eyes, though his smile was affectionate. "Fine, knock yourself out, Samantha!"
The following evening, I was waiting for Dean with a brightly wrapped box when he arrived home from work. "Happy birthday, babe! This is for you."
His expression was excited as he took the gift and shook it cautiously. He proceeded to tear off the wrapping paper in a frenzy and then looked up in surprise. "You got me a new radio for Baby?"
"Well, you'd complained a few times about the sound quality on the old one and how it ate your tapes once or twice, so I found a place that supplies new parts for classic cars and ordered a radio compatible with a '67 Impala," I answered. "Do you like it?"
"I love it, Sammy! I'll install it this weekend." He leaned forward to kiss me, then sat back to eye my grey slacks, mauve dress shirt, and silvery tie. "Do I get to unwrap you next?"
"That'll have to wait until later, unless you want to miss our dinner reservations," I told him with an amused smile. "Now it's your turn to get prettied up!"
He pouted but disappeared into the bedroom, reemerging a little while later in black slacks, a pale green dress shirt, and dark green tie, his dark gold hair styled in carefully tousled spikes and a whiff of cologne mingling with his sweet scent. After donning our coats, we walked to the nearby campus lot where the Impala was parked and drove about half an hour north to the restaurant. Dean turned the car key over to the valet only after giving the poor kid a lengthy list of instructions.
Inside, we got cocktails at the bar—a Manhattan for him and Negroni for me—before the hostess led us to a table for two near the front windows. After some discussion, we ordered crab cakes to share, then the W.R. Chicago Cut steak for him, New York strip for me, and double-baked potatoes and sautéed spinach on the side, finished with a slice of carrot cake for me and the macadamia turtle pie for him for dessert. Judging by his almost graphic moans of pleasure throughout, the meal was clearly a big hit.
Once we were down to the after-dinner coffee, I asked, "Are you happy, Dean?"
His smile was wide and bright. "Yeah, man. This was a great birthday! Thanks, Sam."
We paid our bill shortly after and left the restaurant. Instead of picking up the Impala though, I took his hand and led him a few blocks away to Washington Square Park. We walked along the paths until we reached the center of the park, where the light from the waxing crescent moon and nearby light posts gleamed off the snow on the silent fountain and dormant gardens surrounding it. We took seats on one of the benches ringing the center square.
"Dean, I want you to know how much you mean to me. You rescued me from the wreck my world had become, and everything good I have now is because of you. This is my life now, and I love it. But I can't do it without you—I don't want to do it without you," I said, taking hold of his hands.
He blushed and lowered his gaze for a moment. "You don't give yourself enough credit, man. You're the strongest person I've ever met, with how you made it through so much shit, and you woulda found a way to turn everything around on your own. But I'm glad that I could help you get there, and I'll always be here for you."
"Maybe I could've pulled myself out, but I wouldn't be as happy without you. Loving you is the best thing that's ever happened to me, and you loving me back is a blessing that I don't have words to describe. Spending the rest of my life with you would make me the happiest alpha on the planet." I reached into my coat pocket and pulled out a small box, which I opened to reveal a silvery tungsten carbide ring set with an eternity band of small green sapphires. "Dean Harvelle, would you do me the honor of becoming my mate?"
Dean stared at the ring, his emerald eyes wide with shock. "I—I dunno what to . . . Yes, of course the fucking answer is yes! I would love to be your mate!"
As I slid the ring onto his finger, he leaned forward to give me a passionate kiss. "I love you so much, Sammy. It'll always be you and me, together against the world."