Disclaimer: Supernatural doesn't belong to me, nor do Dean, Sam, or the other characters you recognise. I am making no money so please don't come looking for me.
Warning: some violence as the story progresses
Spoilers - post-end of Series 1 Devil's Trap so some passing mention of events in Season episodes such as Faith, Home, Devil's Trap etc.
Chapter 7 - Trying to Start Again
I take Bobby's advice. Take it slow, try and put Dean at his ease. We have a relaxed breakfast. I had set my alarm hoping to be the first up, but Dean was already in the bathroom, so I just head straight for the kitchen to start making breakfast.
I hear movement behind me and turn to see whether it's Bobby or Dean. My mouth engages before I have time to think through what I'm saying, "Shit Dean. You look terrible." Not quite the start to the day I had hoped for.
He shrugs one shoulder from where he is leant against the door jamb. I can see him eyeing the distance to the table. He looks too thin still, gaunt, tired, his eyes reddened with dark bags beneath them.
"You need a hand?"
"Nah. I'm fine, just a bit stiff this morning is all." With that, he proves it by walking to sit down.
"Stiff?" Bobby had told me about his run yesterday, but he's said nothing yet.
"Yeah, maybe I did a bit much yesterday."
"You hungry?"
"A bit, I guess."
"You should be, you didn't eat last night."
"No big deal. What have you done?" I wish he wouldn't play down events like last night's, it makes it too easy for me not to realise how difficult he's finding this.
"The works. You want coffee?"
"Do you really need to ask?"
"Here we go. What time do we need to be at the hospital?"
"Half nine."
"Leave here about half eight then. Anything you want to do while we're out?" I'm kind of hoping maybe he'll suggest we spend some time together.
"We could grab some groceries."
"Fine. I was thinking more enjoyable than that, but we'll do that too."
"Sam, grocery shopping may not be enjoyable, but going hungry is worse, trust me."
"True."
Dean smiles as Bobby comes in. "Well your sense of smell doesn't wear out with age does it, old man?"
Bobby taps him on the head. "Stop being so cheeky or you'll get to do the dishes on your own."
There is a familiarity between the two of them that I hadn't recognised before. It never dawned on me, when we first came here, that Dean knew where everything was in Bobby's house. When we'd first arrived from the hospital, I had received a guided tour while Dean had just flopped into the nearest chair and closed his eyes. Dean's 'old man' comments also appear to be a familiar banter between the two of them.
With breakfast over, we get ready to go. It's not long until we're on our way. I sit focusing on the road in front, pointedly avoiding looking at Dean as I try to figure out how to start any one of the conversations that I want us to have and wondering whether to do it now or wait until the hospital visit is over.
"Sam?"
"Mmmm."
"What's with the death grip on the steering wheel? Is there something the matter with the car? You should have said, we could have taken Bobby's truck. I don't think he was going anywhere today. If the steering is playing up, ask Bobby to look at it."
"Huh?"
"Your hands are hanging on to the steering wheel like it's about to spin out of control?"
I look down and see my knuckles are white. I deliberately relax my grip and flex my hands in turn, then ask him, "You any less stiff now?"
"I'm fine, Sam. You?"
"Fine. What were you doing yesterday? Or is it because of last night?
"I went out for a bit. I thought a light run would do me good, but I hadn't realised just how out of practise I would feel. It took me longer than I thought it would."
"You sure you're okay now?"
"Yeah. I know that next time, I don't go so far nor so fast. You know," he pauses, "no, it doesn't matter..."
"What were you going to say?"
"I was going to say if you wanted you could come with me sometime. I'll probably be a bit slow for a while, but I don't know. It probably wouldn't interest you. Forget I said anything."
"I'd like that."
"Yeah? You're not just saying that?" He sounds genuinely surprised.
"No, I'm not just saying it. I'm a bit out of practise myself so it would be good."
"I should probably start practising shooting as well."
"You sure?"
"I dunno. I suppose I ought to. You know in case..."
"Is your chest healed enough?" I'll deal with the injuries first, the requirement to hunt can wait. Bobby and I can make sure that Dad doesn't get to him to make him hunt for a while and as he can't drive yet, he can't go anywhere without one of us.
"It's better than it was but... it's better than it was."
"What were you going to say?"
"Nothing just that."
"Remember we agreed to be honest about injuries. We don't need to hide them."
"Yeah well, you know what Dad would say."
"Yeah I do. 'Suck it up soldier' never did work for me, Dean, and it shouldn't work for you either. You aren't a soldier. How often did you end up in hospital over the years because of his attitude?" I glance across and see an embarrassed flush to his cheeks and curse myself silently for causing it. "Dean, it doesn't matter. That's in the past. It was him not you. We can make things better, right now and we should start with the 'Suck it up soldier' line. Not something we use anymore, agreed?"
"Yeah." His agreement is quiet but at least it's there.
"So?"
"So, it's better, most of it's healed but it still aches inside, it's still cold and... shit Sam..."
"What is it?"
"You know what worries me the most, Sam. It's that I shouldn't be telling you all this crap. I shouldn't be moaning about stuff. You've enough of your own to worry about without me adding to it."
"Problems shared, Dean. I tell you, you tell me, simple." I wish it was that simple for him, for us both.
"You're holding it all together. What am I doing?"
"Okay. I was going to tell you this later. I'm having these dreams and I need to talk to you about them, but we should finish you first then talk about the dreams. So come on, what else is worrying you about it?"
He relents. "My movement is restricted across my chest and it's sore to touch, like it's still fresh."
"They checking it out today?"
"Yeah. See what they say I suppose."
"If you want, if they don't come up with anything, I could call Missouri and I could talk to her, describe it, see if she can suggest anything."
He sounds bitter when he answers, "Oh, she's really going to want to help me after what I said to her yesterday!"
"Yeah well. I'll apologise because it was my fault. I should never have tried to make you talk to her like that."
"Bobby tell you that?" he asks.
"And you. Directly and indirectly."
"You do know you don't have to listen to everything Bobby tells you about me?"
"You seem to know him pretty well, better than when we were kids."
"Like we said last night, I spent some time here when you were at Stanford. Gave the old man a hand around the place."
"What about Dad?"
"Dad? I'm surprised you want to know about him? Well, part of the time he was too drunk to care or to do anything about it if he did, part of the time he was locked up while I tried to get the money to get him out again and part of the time he was at Pastor Jim's."
"Was that just after I left?"
"Sam, there are some things I've never told you because you're better off not knowing. It's no big deal and it wasn't your doing."
"So, why not tell me? What makes you think it will make any difference to me at all?"
"You and Dad find it difficult enough to get along as it is. I don't want things to get any worse."
I find it hard to believe that he still thinks he can fix it. I pull the car off the road and turn to see his surprised expression. "Dean, listen. Dad and I are through. I don't want anything to do with him ever again. It's you and me. Pastor Jim and Caleb are gone so that leaves Bobby and anyone else we choose to add to it. But not him. Right? I'm not having anything more to do with him. Nothing can make it any worse. Nothing can make it any better." I need for him to understand this in no uncertain terms.
"Don't you ever want to try to get back what we've lost?" He sounds almost confused.
"Dean, honestly, I don't think there's anything to get back. The good memories are mostly just you and I. Some have Pastor Jim, Caleb or Bobby but the key is us."
His eyes are downcast and his fingers are worrying at a loose thread on his jeans, but he catches me by surprise when he answers. "I know what you mean. It's just... I always wanted you to have a proper family, one you could be proud of."
"I've got that. There's us, that's enough family to be proud of. Just because it doesn't look like the ones in the story books doesn't mean it isn't good enough. So, are you going to tell me what happened when I left? What is that Bobby thinks you should tell me?"
"You really want to know?"
"If you feel you can tell me, yes."