AN: If you've ever read my author's notes, you've probably heard about my mom, who is the reason for my love of reading and writing. Well, today's chapter is for her, because it would have been her 74th birthday. *Miss you, Mom.*
Lena: I hope you keep liking this! This chapter is a transition; the trip from Kansas to Michigan, and a lot of it is Sam's thoughts on the way. I don't know if it will give you any more warm fuzzies, but a girl can hope! Your gushing is so sweet and wonderful and you do make me blush. They did take Baby, but I probably should have made that clearer, so I added a little more about it because it will affect the story later. Stay warm…oh wait, it is warm where you are, unlike here. *snicker*
Leann: Aw, thank you so much! I hope you keep liking it, although this chapter's a little low on action. I really appreciate you taking the time to review.
Shazza: I'm glad you like the flashbacks. There were a few really powerful scenes from the show that dictated what Dean's feelings would be here, I think. And I should have made it clearer that they did take the Impala, since they took the time to get her road legal before coming back from Oregon. Poor Baby! She really got beat up in her episode.
Stormy: Oh, thank you so much! This is really Dean's story, and I feel like later seasons Sam would be just a big moose of support for Dean in this situation! (Hey, I want an emotional support moose. Think it would get along with my cats?) But it's getting late and I'm getting goofy, so I'll just say thanks for the nice review!
Sam forced Dean to get out of the car and walk around a little when they stopped for gas outside of Gary, Indiana. Dean ran a hand over Baby's abused hood a little sadly. If he'd been thinking, he probably would have suggested a different vehicle, even though they'd had her broken windows replaced before leaving Oregon. She'd already had to make one long trip in her condition; he felt unreasonably guilty she had to make another even though logically, he knew the only damage left was cosmetic.
"She's okay," said a voice he knew like his own. Dean sighed a little. Sam spent so much time in his head Dean should start charging rent. Sam walked the rest of the way over to Dean and handed over a big cup, then used his free hand to pat the hood with more affection than he'd admit out loud. "You did a good job taking care of the big stuff. She'll be fine until we get back. She's tough. She won't be anything but fine because you won't allow it."
Dean had a spot reserved in Sam's head too, so he could clearly hear, what happened to Ben isn't your fault. He's tough. He'll be fine. Dean nodded. He heard both meanings of Sam's words. He looked at what he was holding for the first time. "A Slurpee?"
Sam shrugged and took a long pull of his own Slurpee. "I felt like a Slurpee."
This time Dean heard, You've had enough coffee, and you love Slurpees. I'm taking care of you the only way I can, because I'm a sappy, emo chick. Dean took a drink of the bright blue goodness (because he did love Slurpees) and raised his eyebrows to convey that he was onto Sam's tactics, but Sam just gave him a Mona Lisa smile around his straw. Where do you think I learned that?
Dean gave up on the silent communication. "You tired? I can drive."
"I can go. Your call." Sam simply waited with seeming infinite patience, giving Dean control wherever he could, obviously reading how much the lack of control was shredding Dean. When had the powder keg teen turned into this patient man? The compassion – well, that had always been there.
"Not yet. I have a Slurpee to drink." Dean headed for the passenger's side, glaring back to dare Sam to comment. But Sam was simply moving back to the driver's door without comment. Without so much as a concerned look. Huh. Nice that the kid was using that big brain.
As they pulled back on the road, Dean decided it was high time he pulled himself together. "Okay. Tell me everything we know."
Turns out Sam had already called the local PD and introduced them as feds coming in because "this case has the hallmarks of multi-state investigation already in progress." Dean refrained from calling Sam a geek, because it was a good line. And because he was still so damn numb about everything. Dean could feel Sam's speculation at how quiet he was.
But again, Sam didn't comment. "Cops don't have much of anything. Ben got a ride home from a friend's mom after baseball practice. He texted Lisa to say he was home, like he does every day. When she got home about an hour later, she found the door busted in and Ben was gone. Only two houses are close enough for anyone see anything. In one, nobody was home, and only a little old lady was in the other, and she was napping at the time." Sam glanced over and even in the dark, Dean could tell it was a loaded look. "Lisa smelled sulfur."
The next three miles were nothing but Dean swearing. Sam left him to it. When he got his breath back, something occurred to Dean. "If Crowley touched him – again – I'll, I'll, I'll strangle him with his own intestines. I'll cut him into pieces, sew them back all wrong, and drop kick him into the Grand Canyon. Then I'll feed him to mutant crocodiles. Then after they shit him out, I'll shove the demon killing knife so far up his ass it will come out the top of his head." He shot Sam a challenging look with a single raised eyebrow. I dare you to tell me to calm down.
"I'll video tape it all so you can watch it in high-def any time you want," was all Sam said.
Dean nodded. That was the right answer. He saw the Welcome to Michigan sign. "Find some place to stop."
Sam smoothly changed lanes and headed for the next exit.
"How long are you going to be this easy to get along with?" Dean asked, regaining a bit of his normal demeanor back. Thanks, Sam. He had a direction. He had a first step. He had Sam with him, and he wasn't letting Ben be a victim of some black-eyed bastard.
"As long as you keep making sense," said Sam, mouth tipped in a slight smile. You're welcome. He pulled into a Marathon gas station. "You ready to drive?"
"Oh, yeah. But I have a call to make first."
WINCHESTER * WINCHESTER
Dean's conversation with Crowley was short and pointed, but the demon showed up behind the station within a minute. He was in his typical black suit, hands tucked in his pockets like he was presiding over his court instead of behind a gas station in a place called New Buffalo.
"Hello, boys. You bellowed?"
"Where is Ben Braeden, dickwad?" demanded Dean.
Crowley's eyes flicked to Sam as if in confirmation, and Sam knew in that instant that Crowley didn't know the answer. He was a very good liar, but he and Sam had spent a lot of time together (more than Sam cared to remember, really), and Sam knew a lot of his tells. Crowley was surprised by the question.
"Ben, your maybe son that you have Cas administer a brain enema to? Why, is he out of protective custody?" This time, the look Crowley cast toward Sam was deliberate. It was his divide and distract technique, which he'd practically patented.
Dean ignored the deflection, his voice dropping to a growl. "He's not my son, what Cas did is none of your business, and you didn't answer the question."
"I didn't do anything to Ben or the lovely Lisa and I don't know who did. My source only just informed me that the boy is missing." For once, Crowley didn't mess around. "And I have no intention of ever doing anything with, to, or about them."
"His source is the neighbor who wasn't home," Sam informed Dean. Crowley cocked an eyebrow at that, surprised but not shocked that Sam knew that.
"And Sam had people trailing both Braedens while you were…not yourself," Crowley added, with a little smirk, still trying to foment discord. But Dean just nodded. On the drive over, he'd learned a lot of the steps that Sam had taken to protect the two. He wasn't surprised that Sam had also moved to protect them from the demon version of himself. He was grateful.
If Crowley were disappointed at the lack of response, he didn't show it. "And as for being your son, that's…murky. Somebody paid an awful lot of money to send Ms. Braeden a false result to the DNA test she had done. As for who that was, I never was able to find out. And as for whether or not you are his father, I didn't have a chance to find out." Crowley shrugged, but his expression was avaricious.
Sam found himself stepping slightly in front of Dean, as if Crowley had no right to see the memories and pain he'd evoked in Dean's eyes. "That's not what we're here to talk about," he said, voice hard.
"Calm down, Moose. I came, didn't I? I'm just trying – "
"Ben was taken by a demon," Sam interrupted, slightly surprised that Dean let him. "All we need to know is who and where."
Dean nudged his elbow, and Sam stepped back. It was Dean's show, really, but Sam had to fight his instincts to shield Dean. In all honesty, he had to fight his instincts to stab Crowley in the face.
Dean's voice was low and commanding in a way that meant he was banking his anger until it was time to explode. "So either you sent someone after Ben, or someone's acting outside your orders. Which one is it, Crowley?"
"I didn't give…" Crowley trailed off, realization sweeping his face.
"What?" Dean snapped.
"Well, recently, I had a small break out of some of the demons who were in time out. One of the escapees we haven't tracked down yet is Praedo." Crowley's brows pinched together in annoyance or thought. Sam couldn't tell which.
"Prada? And why do I care about a demon day-care reject?"
"Praedo." Crowley screwed up his mouth in distaste. "He gave himself the name. It means – "
"Destroyer." Sam interrupted. "Yeah. Who is he?"
Crowley leaned back on his heels. Sam thought he was trying to look casual while feeling anything but. "He was the demon who inhabited your Lisa. He was in my…detention center because he was ordered not to seriously harm her without orders."
Sam looked Crowley straight in the eye and took a long, deliberate step backwards. He was clearly communicating to Crowley and Dean, I won't interfere.
Dean nailed Crowley with a vicious right cross that would have leveled a human, and Crowley took it without making a move to defend himself. Dean stayed right up in the demon's face. "You are the one who put Lisa and Ben in danger. You help me find him, and I won't kill you. But if he has so much as a scratch on him, I'm taking it out of your hide. This is your mess!"
Crowley might be slimy worm (in Sam's opinion), but he stood his ground and gazed back into Dean's furious face. For the first time, Sam couldn't read the demon's expression. After a pause, he nodded. "Fine. I'll find out where Praedo is and let you know. Then you're on your own." He disappeared.
Dean drove the rest of the way to Battle Creek, and even chose a motel without Sam pushing it. They couldn't really show up at Lisa's house or the police station at 2 am. Sam knew how much Dean's muscles had to be aching given how hard he'd clenched the steering wheel. It was kind of like riding next to a boiling volcano. Sam bit his tongue until it was raw to keep from asking the asinine and totally useless question are you okay?
The silence continued as Sam got ready for bed. He had no illusions that Dean would get any sleep, but he was going to grab a couple hours. He could watch Dean's back better that way. When Sam came out of the bathroom, Dean was sitting at the tiny table, laptop propped in front of him. Sam set Dean's headphones gently next to him, hoping his brother would find a little peace in his music. "We'll find him, Dean," is all he said, with the briefest pat of Dean's shoulder, finding the muscles there just as taut as he'd expected. Dean didn't answer, and Sam's heart ached for him. He wished he could do more for him, but he was doing the only thing he could.
Sam laid awake for a long time, wishing for the ability to take away some of Dean's burden. Hoping desperately that they'd find Ben soon and that he would be fine. He drifted in that twilight of half awake, half asleep, sifting through memories and what they knew and letting his subconscious sort the information.
Just before he finally fell asleep, Sam remembered walking into Bobby's living room years earlier and finding Ben looking through a book of Grimm's fairy tales. Dean and Lisa were talking out on the porch and Sam didn't know where Bobby had gone. He and the boy had regarded each other for silently for longer than typical social norms allowed. Sam, soulless, felt no embarrassment, merely curiosity. Ben was young enough and confident enough not to care.
"I thought you died. Why did Dean say you died?" Ben's voie quavered just a little, but he stared up into Sam's face without fear.
"I did." It was true enough. "Once in a while, death isn't final."
Ben pondered that, and Sam wondered if he'd call bullshit. Instead, he asked, "Why did you come back? Dean was happy until you came back."
"He'd been poisoned. I came back to save his life, and he saw me. And now I'm trying to help him save yours." Like his earlier statement, it was mostly true. Sam could have had one of the Campbells Dean didn't know administer the antidote and not tell him who they were. But Samuel had been pushing hard for them to pull Dean in. He wanted another hunter. And more than that, he wanted someone to hold Sam's leash. Samuel was afraid of him. Gwen and Mark were too. Only Christian didn't seem to mind Sam's cold efficiency. Samuel tried to hide it, but he was never unarmed when Sam was nearby, and he watched him like you'd watch a tamed tiger. Like he was waiting for the day that Sam decided he was no longer following orders.
Of course, that wasn't really why Sam was the one who went to Dean. He knew he wasn't right. He could feel so little, and he wondered if, just maybe, Dean could teach him to feel something again.
"Well, we're his family now. So after we're all safe, Dean is staying with us. You can't have him." Ben was obviously afraid of Sam, too. Or at least of his reaction to the words.
Sam felt a hint of amusement, which was the strongest emotion he had left, and a thread of admiration for the kid, who was half his size. "Nobody makes Dean do anything he doesn't want to, kid. Whether he stays or goes is up to him."
"He'll stay then. He loves us." Ben was staring at the floor, and Sam knew his old self would have felt something by now. Compassion? Sadness?
Knowing that, Sam bit back the sarcastic retort that came to mind first. He didn't talk about blood or years or tell Ben any of the things that Dean had done and been willing to do for Sam. Instead, he said honestly, "I know he does." He turned to leave, and added, "And I'll keep him alive."
It was a promise, but not really to Ben. It was a promise to himself. Later, after Sam had gotten his soul back, he'd wondered about that. About his desire to stay at Dean's side though he felt nothing for him. About how he helped him and watched his back when they hunted together. It wasn't because Dean was a tether to Sam's old life, because he'd ditched Bobby without regret. He would always wonder what kind of connection the brothers had that extended even beyond the soul.
Tonight, Sam wasn't thinking about his soul or his connection to Dean. Tonight, Sam was remembering what happened when Dean walked into the room. How Ben's face lit up. How Dean's face softened.
"He loves us."
In the quiet of his own mind, Sam sent up a prayer. Please, let Ben be okay.