The winding lanes and verdant lawns beyond the gate which separated Sam's neighbourhood from the outside world were like a different planet. Dean couldn't begin to imagine how much it cost, though even if he'd had the money, he doubted he'd ever choose to live there himself. By all outward appearances it seemed the safest place on the planet, albeit a little too Stepford Wives for his taste. Good Housekeeping meets Folsom State Pen came to mind, but he could see the appeal in terms of family security.
That would have been Sam's main reason for living here Dean realised. But the place had let him down, even if it hadn't been the only one to blame. Dean gritted his teeth, unable to stop himself for cursing at Castiel.
He took his time making his way through the area, wanting to get a feel for the neighbourhood in case something stood out to him. Most of the houses were set back from the tree lined main roads, with the short drives that led up to the individual homesteads curving and sloping so that entrance to the houses themselves were often tastefully obscured. When he finally neared the Winchester abode, he was relieved to see that Sam's tastes were at least a little more down to Earth. Sam's neighbourhood had a less vulgar, more homely feel than the ones Dean had driven through and in comparison, Dean silently approved.
Sam's property had a short pebbled drive which opened up to reveal a medium sized water feature in front of the house. Before he'd even parked the Impala, Dean could see the abandoned construction work shrouded behind translucent tarps. He silently cursed again even though he'd feared as much the moment Sam had mentioned construction work in the motel a few days earlier.
Sam didn't know it, but Dean had made the angels engrave wardings and sigils into the foundations of Sam's house so that in effect, the perimeter served as a devils trap, keeping anything demonic or monstrous out. The diggers however had broken the wardings, rendering the seal inert. Demons couldn't have done that, but they most certainly could have taken advantage of the security breach once humans had created it.
"Cas!" he hissed loudly as he climbed out of the Impala. "I swear to… your Dad! Get your feathered ass down here! Where the hell are you!?"
He didn't bother wait anymore for the angel, instead making his way inside the house. The ground beyond the tarpaulin covered entrance was upturned, the paving stones uprooted and building detritus lying strewn on either side. As he passed through what had been the main entrance into the reception, he felt a slight rush of air and the tell-tale fluttering of wings a fraction of a second before Castiel appeared before him.
They both glared at each other, for once neither seeming particularly pleased to see the other.
"Where the hell have you been?" Dean growled in the same instant as the angel stated his own demand.
"Why have you been calling on me so incessantly?"
They stared at each other for a moment longer before Dean spoke again, breaking the stalemate.
"So you heard me," he pressed. "All this time."
"Yes, I heard you," the angel replied tersely. "Why–" But he broke off as he became aware of their surroundings, turning his head to scrutinise the area more closely.
"Then what the hell took you so damned long?" Dean demanded again, voice rising once more with his anger. "Huh? What's so important that you couldn't–"
"Preventing the Seals from breaking is what is so important," Castiel replied tersely, turning back to face Dean and eyes flashing with fury. "I would think you, of all people, should appreciate the sacrifices we are making to prevent what you started."
"Sacrifices?" Dean repeated in an incredulous tone, ignoring the accusation of blame thrown unrepentantly towards him like a red flag. "Right."
The angel's eyes narrowed as he stepped closer to glare at Dean, his voice taking on a darker tone even as it stayed unnervingly even.
"There are more battles waged by Heaven on Earth than are visible to you. Many of my brothers and sisters have fallen to prevent Lilith in her most recent attempt. And yet the whole while as I fought, watching my family die at my side, I heard your voice in my ears, demanding attention. I am not at your beck and call Dean."
Dean had no intention of backing down, his own anger making that impossible at any rate, but the angel's explanation and irritation had an effect on tempering his bluster a little.
"Well it's not like I was calling you down to split a bar tab or anything," Dean shot flippantly, stepping back to create space between them. "I've got an emergency of my own."
"Why have you called me here Dean?" Castiel asked, impatience coursing through the gravel of his voice. "This is your brother's home."
"Oh I'm glad you noticed," Dean shot glibly. "Did you happen to notice anything else?" He indicated to the doorway.
Castiel flicked a cursory glance towards the uprooted entrance. "The wardings are broken. That's unfortunate but hardly an emergency. They can be easily re–"
"Sam's wife and son are missing Cas!" Dean said cutting him off. "They've been taken."
"Taken?" Cas echoed, for the first time during the exchange forgetting his annoyance and instead sounding genuinely concerned. "By who?"
"We don't know. And by your reaction I'm guessing you've got no clue about any of it either."
"No," Castiel admitted. "I do not."
"That's great Cas. That's just… that's brilliant." Dean said, throwing his hands to the air and shaking his head as he turned away, a humourless smile conveying the disgust he was feeling.
"Dean–"
"You gave me your word Cas!" Dean growled turning back to face him. "You promised me if I helped you, if I agreed to what you and your buddies all want, you'd keep them safe. And I've never trusted the others Cas, but I trusted you. You gave me your word. So where the hell are they?"
"I don't know," Castiel replied gravely, his anger and annoyance from moments ago now replaced entirely by contrition. "But I will find out what Heaven knows."
"Heaven?" Dean scoffed. "Heaven can go to hell!"
"Dean–"
"There was meant to be someone watching over them! Heaven was meant to be watching over them. That was the deal!"
"I know," the angel admitted, his voice softening.
"Oh, he knows," Dean mocked, sarcasm barely containing his anger. "Well, bang up job Cas. Really. World class."
"Let me return to Heaven. I'll discover what happened to the angels stationed here."
"If anything happens to them Cas, to Jess and Kyle, I swear–"
"I'm on your side Dean. I don't know what's happened here, but I will find out."
"You better." Dean growled, then spoke again halting the angel from pulling his usual disappearing act. "Before you go, make yourself useful. Do your x-ray vision thing. Is there anything you can sense around here? About what might have taken them?"
The angel tilted his head to one side as if listening for something, but then shook his head. "No, I'm sorry. If this was a demon's doing, it wasn't a strong enough demon to leave a discernible trace–."
"I suppose that's something."
"Or it's been gone too long."
Dean stared at him. "Maybe finish your sentences in one go next time."
"You don't often give me the chance Dean."
Dean glared at him a moment more before shaking his head. "Can you at least sense where they are?"
"No," Cas replied. "But I assure you they are still alive," he added quickly, knowing that would abate Dean's worries a little.
Dean sighed, a small amount of fear having lifted. He expected the angel to disappear instantly, but Castiel wavered.
"I will help you get them back Dean," he said. "I give you my word."
"You gave me your word last time too Cas," Dean re-joined, more rueful now than angry. "And yet," he raised his arms to either side, indicating their empty surroundings. "Here we are."
"I know," Castiel responded solemnly. "But I swear to you Dean, I believed they were being guarded. I would not have let this happen."
"That's what bothers me Cas. You didn't know anything was wrong. And now you can't sense where they are. Doesn't that mean someone's keeping them angel proofed? That someone slipped something pass Heaven?"
"It would seem that way," he conceded.
"That can't be good."
There was nothing the angel could say to refute that.
"They are still alive Dean," Cas reaffirmed instead. "I can sense that much at least."
"They better be. Coz this is all that matters to me Cas. Do you get that? Do you get what I'm saying?"
"I believe so."
"I'm not doing anything else till this is fixed. You can take that back up to Heaven with you. Nothing else matters right now except this."
"I understand," the angel responded after a beat, looking Dean in the eye with a gaze that seemed to blaze right through to his core. "And you should know Dean, I will endeavour with you in every way I can to ensure their safety."
"Well… good," Dean retorted, shifting a little uncomfortably under the angel's unflinching stare. "Coz if you don't, all bets are off. I mean it Cas. Anything happens to them? Michael can pucker up and kiss my ass goodbye."
Castiel's features twitched a little at that, but before Dean could analyse whether it was because the angel had found the remark amusing, confusing or blasphemous, he vanished. As always, it took Dean by surprise and he released a breath at the angel's departure. He was never aware of it at the time, but after the fact he always felt as though he'd been holding his breath the whole time an angel, any angel, was around in the same room as him. Not that he'd encountered that many angels, and he by far preferred Castiel to all the others, but still, there were times when even Cas made him nervous. Despite that however, he felt a little less burdened knowing Castiel would be helping him. There was something about him that made Dean feel in his gut that he could trust him, and he believed that the angel really hadn't known that there was something wrong. While that made Dean glad that the angel still seemed to be on the level, it made him worry all that much more about what was really going on.
Despite what Castiel had said, Dean did a thorough sweep of the house, but ultimately found nothing of worth. Before leaving he grabbed one of Sam's duffels, the largest he could find, and threw together some clothes for his brother, taking a moment to be dismayed at the sheer number of shirts, ties, shoes and suits his brother actually owned. He opted for casuals over the legal attire, though one suit inadvertently made it into the bag. He then quickly gathered some clothes for the children, adding toys and books at the last minute on pure instinct.
It didn't occur to him till his way out that this was the first time he had ever been inside his brother's home. In fact, since Sam had left for Stanford, apart from Sam's wedding this was the closest Dean had ever physically gotten to being in his brother's life. Oh he'd kept tabs on Sam, of course he had. Particularly since Dean had gotten mixed up with angels and demons, he'd kept tabs on him to make sure he was safe. He'd known about Sam's job promotions, about the birth of his children, about the move to the big house. He hadn't made personal visits, because he would never allow himself to get that close to Sam, knowing the kind of trouble he could lead straight to his brother's doorstep. But he'd made sure he knew the basics of what was going on with Sam. He'd made sure wherever Sam lived, it was warded and Sam's family were watched over and protected. Or at least, he'd tried to.
But that kind of knowledge about Sam, it was like looking at a map, plotting a route and memorising all the town names along the way. You might know the roads, might know the stops, but you knew nothing of the journey. You knew nothing of the scenery, nothing of the ride. It was simply the facts, with none of the feelings.
So standing there alone, in his brother's home for the first time, Dean took a minute to take it all in.
And it was a home. Unlike the gated community outside, Dean felt an instant connection to the space, felt an attachment to the home despite the unavoidable feeling of sudden abandonment that echoed in every room. There were clothes left in the dryer, toothbrushes still hanging in the bathroom. The fruit bowl still had fruit, and the dishwasher was fully loaded. An assortment of colourful chunky magnets held drawings and photos in place on the fridge. Happy stick figure families under lemon yellow suns and smiling tanned faces laughing into camera lenses. Despite being empty, the house was still full and vibrant at every turn. Every corner shone light on evidence pointing to it having been a happy place. A home gently cluttered with lives well lived.
As Dean lingered outside the large kitchen he could almost see the happy family that had populated it not so long ago. On one of the walls they had begun marking Deanna's height over the past few years, each growth spurt diligently recorded in the steady progression upward. Eric and Kyle and even Sunny had been added. There was a large gap before a line near the middle labelled 'Mommy' was drawn and then all the way up, right at the very top, a single line marked 'Daddy'.
Dean stared at it almost mesmerised, and felt a complex mix of emotions rising up within him. He didn't know how to describe what he felt. That was Sam, not Sammy, but Sam, a father at the head of a family. When had his baby brother become more than just a baby brother? How could a wall with lines say so much about so many lives? Say so much about the hopes and happiness of a family. Dean felt a sudden sharp ache at all the time he'd missed with his brother, seeing him grow up into this man who had this home and had filled it with all this love. But most of all, staring at the wall, he couldn't stomach the thought that no more lines might be marked there.
He turned away before he could indulge in any more emotionally charged melodramas. Leaving the house he felt sick, felt that heavy dull weight lodged in the pit of his stomach twist as it grew, and he wished he'd had more to show for the trip than a duffle bag of clothes and toys.
After tossing the bag in the back seat, he made his way to the Dixon residence. Breaking in was relatively easy, but ultimately futile yet again. There was nothing that seemed out of the ordinary. He snagged a photo of the family for reference and left.
He'd already checked out of the motel that morning, so the only thing left was to look in on the local PD. He wasn't exactly met with open arms. Apparently they took his arrival to mean that Sam the hotshot lawyer had pulled some strings to get the FBI involved, and they didn't take too kindly to that. Still, he managed to get a copy of their files, not that Ash wouldn't already have hacked into the system and taken them. But still, speaking to the officers on the case convinced him that the police had no leads and were content to shelve the case under domestic dispute, rather than missing person or anything more serious.
All that was left for him after that was the long drive back to the Roadhouse. As he got behind the wheel, ready to leave, he felt unreasonably drained, and knew it wasn't all down to physical fatigue. Revving the engine brought Baby roaring to life, but he still felt deflated and troubled and worn.
Nothing he'd discovered in this trip had made things clearer. In fact, he left more perturbed by whatever was happening than before he'd arrived to investigate. He'd been hoping, perhaps foolishly, that it really would be a simple case of runaway wife. He would have even settled for a run of the mill kidnapping. Perhaps even more foolishly, he'd been hoping Cas would have had answers. That Cas would have been able to remedy it all with a click of his haloed fingers. And while that hope had been unrealistic, childish even, there had been a small part of Dean that had clung to it despite himself, because damn it all, weren't angels supposed to work miracles? But rather than fixing things or even shedding light on anything, Cas' eventual appearance had only made the reality of what was happening become even more convoluted and troubling. If Cas really couldn't track them because they were being hidden, that meant that whoever or whatever had them was most certainly involved in the same struggle that Dean and Heaven and Hell and all its demons were.
That was not something he'd wanted his brother or any of his family to be anywhere near. And yet despite all of Dean's precautions, despite all of his efforts, that was exactly where they seemed to have ended up.
He waited till he was on an empty stretch of road before calling Ash, the drive having given his mind time to settle a little.
"What you got?" Ash asked, picking up before the second ring had even finished.
"You got the files I sent? Need you to track that car. Was being driven by a Stacey Dixon, need to know where she went in it. And I need you to track her down. She was admitted to a local psych ward before being moved to a private facility. Find out where."
"Trace the car, find Stacey Dixon. Got it. Anything else?"
Dean was about to ask to speak to Sam just as he heard his brother's voice in the background. 'Did you say Stacey Dixon?'
"Put Sam on." Dean said, not waiting for Ash to respond.
"Were you talking about Stacey?" Sam asked, having taken the phone and not bothering with pleasantries.
"Yeah, your neighbour. What can you tell me?"
"Wait, you think she's involved? That's crazy."
"Well… So is she. I heard she was taken to a psych ward."
"Yeah she's had a rough time since her son…" Sam stalled.
"I know," Dean responded, tone softening, knowing Sam had been thinking of Kyle. "She and Jess became friends?" he prodded instead.
"Yeah, yeah that's right," Sam replied recovering himself. "How'd you know? Did you talk to her?"
"No, spoke to Herb."
There was a pause.
"The guard?" Sam queried.
"Yeah, nice guy. Thinks highly of you though so, no accounting for taste I guess. Told me she'd had an episode the day before Jess and Kyle disappeared."
"I knew she'd been admitted after the disappearance but I didn't know about that. What kind of episode?"
"You didn't talk to Herb?" the instant Dean asked it, he regretted it. He knew Sam would be giving himself a hard enough time without Dean throwing questions around like accusations. He carried on without waiting for Sam to respond. "She had some kind of shouting match with him. Pretty confrontational according to him at least. That normal for her?"
"Over a year ago, I would have said maybe. Stacey had been struggling with depression since Billy, her son, drowned. But she'd been doing a lot better, for a long time. Seemed stable. Jess had a lot to do with that I think."
"So she and Jess were close friends?"
"Kinda. They've been our neighbours since we moved in. We saw them practically every day and… I mean I don't think Stace ever came over, but she and Jess got closer after Stacey's son died. Jess helped her a lot, helped her through the depression. Seemed like she'd recovered. Do you think… Do you think maybe the disappearance triggered Stacey's relapse?"
"I doubt it. The incident between her & Herb happened before Jess and Kyle were missing. I still wanna talk to her though. She's been moved out of state, somewhere private. Any idea where?"
"No," there was a pause and Dean could practically hear the cogs in his brother's head whirring. "Do you really think she has something to do with it? I mean I'd heard something about her being admitted locally after Jess went missing, but honestly? I was so freaked out at the time, Stacey wasn't even on my radar. I mean, she had a history of instability so it didn't occur to me it might be related. Or that it was even unusual."
Dean wanted to be able to say outright that it wasn't, but there was something in his gut that wasn't letting him. Before he could say anything, Sam carried on.
"You think maybe she took Kyle?" he asked in a hushed tone, voice echoing a hollow dread. "A replacement son? And–"
"No," Dean cut him off. He didn't have an answer but he knew the only thing being conjured up by Sam right then would be the worst possible scenarios. "No, I'd just feel better if I could talk to her," he repeated. "Maybe she saw something, or heard something. It's the best lead we've got. And besides," he added as an afterthought. "Billy was older than Kyle."
"More Eric's age," Sam acknowledged. "And Eric was left behind."
Dean heard his brother's dry swallow, and felt the pain caused by pushing all those words out. He hated hearing that sound. But then there was silence, and he almost hated that even more, because it seemed to magnify the distance between them. He'd always hated it when Sam was hurting, but he hated it even more when he couldn't physically be there, even if all he could do at times was just sit with him in silence.
"I'll try calling Gavin." Sam said at last. "Her husband," he elaborated, not knowing that Dean already knew his name. "Maybe I can find out where she is."
"Good." Dean replied, grateful that Sam was thinking straight and not giving in. Proud a little too, however sadly, at how well his brother was keeping it together. He knew Sam was doing his best to bite his tongue, doing his best to not let his fears spiral out of control.
"I'm not losing hope Dean," Sam said quietly, as if he could read Dean's thoughts through the airwaves. "I just hate sitting here doing nothing."
Before Dean could respond to that, the sound became muffled and he heard Deanna in the background.
'Daddy can I talk to Uncle Dean too?'
Dean couldn't help a smile at that, one he didn't even realise he was sporting despite it spreading openly across his face. Through the rustling he heard Sam telling her that she couldn't just yet, but Dean decided there was no reason why not.
"It's all right," he said, knowing his brother still had the phone to his ear. "Put her on. I got nothing else to report anyway."
He could sense Sam hesitate as though his brother wanted to ask more of him, before he relented and after a few seconds Deanna spoke, her voice sounding even tinier than she actually was, but no less lively.
"Hi Uncle Dean. Are you coming back?"
"Hey kiddo. Yeah I am."
"Are Mommy and Kyle with you?"
"Not just yet. But they'll be home soon too."
"Are you driving?"
"Sure am."
"In the 'pala?"
"Yep."
"Have you seen lots of cars?"
"Tons of them."
"Did you see a red car?"
"Yep."
"Did you see a blue car?"
"Sure."
"A green one?"
"Uh huh."
"Uhm… a white one?"
"Yep."
"A black one!"
"A black one? Hmm, not sure about that… A black car… where would I see a black car? Let me think."
He heard Deanna giggle and he grinned.
"The 'pala's a black car Uncle Dean!" the five year old trilled.
"You sure? I could've sworn she was pink."
Beyond her laughter, he heard Sam speak again in the background.
'All right Deanna, say goodbye now.'
"Daddy says I have to go."
"Then we'd better listen to him."
"Wait! Uncle Dee?"
"Yeah?"
"Will you bring something for Eric and Sunny and Daddy and me?"
"Depends. What would you like?"
"Uhm… Can you bring pie?"
Dean laughed. Could this kid be any more perfect?
"Sure I'll bring pie. I'll see you soon kiddo. Be good."
"Bye Uncle Dean."
There was a slight rustling as the phone changed hands before Sam's rushed voice came through again, more urgently than before.
"Dean? Don't bring pie, okay? They're full of chemicals and additives, not to mention the suga–"
Dean hung up.
He was looking forward to sharing pie with his niece, and the look on Sam's face as the two of them ate it would be the proverbial cherry on top (or a literal one, if he got actual cherry pie). The thought buoyed him without his realising and the remainder of his journey passed much more pleasantly than it had started. Had he taken any time to think about that, he would have realised that speaking with his niece was one of the first times in a long time that he'd felt any true joy, and it was also one of the few times he was genuinely looking forward to something. He would have also realised it was one of the only times that memories of Hell weren't impinging at the corners of his mind.
But it didn't matter that he didn't realise any of that; for once he was content to just stay in the rare little pocket of happiness he'd landed in, focussing only on the immediate future and not looking beyond its edges into the rest of reality and the gloom that encroached all around.
tbc
Thank you for reading. Hope all out there are well. Will update soon.
Long Live BRUCAS: Thanks for reviewing :-) You're so right about Sam; dog with a bone completely. But it's never easy to get Dean to open up, so Sam's got his work cut out for him there, on top of everything else, smh. *poor Sam*
