The Power of Two:
Nathan squeezed his eyes shut tight for a moment, counting to three before he opened them again—but everything is still the same. He didn't get why this was so hard for him; he wanted this, had been determined to help, so then why the hell was he having such a hard time? It was no different than holding a water gun or even a BB-gun, so what was the problem?
He glanced out of the corner of his eye at Dean who was standing next to him, his arms crossed over his chest and his lips pursed into a thin line.
"Just take a deep breath," Dean told him as patiently as he could at the moment.
They were in the Salvage Yard, out by the fence where Dean had lined up bottles and cans. If Nathan wanted to help them, the least that he could do was know how to handle a gun—and Bobby had been pretty insistent that Dean be the one to teach him.
Dean knew that it wasn't because he was the better shot, but knew that Bobby wanted them to bond or something. Dean thought that it was stupid; trying to bond with Nathan in their current situation... Dean sighed inwardly, now was not the time for this kind of shit. He didn't need another brother; he had been perfectly fine with having just Sam and Bobby, even Cas—they were his family, not Nathan. And yeah, maybe he was more pissed at John than he admitted Sam; angry that he had lied about it and the fact that he had let Nathan go—even if Dean knew that it was probably for the better. Dad was supposed to keep this family together; 'look after Sammy, protect Sammy' is what he had always told Dean—did he not think of Nathan in the same way.
"This is stupid," Nathan breathed out under his breath, but Dean heard it even though he knew the other man didn't want him too.
Dean turned to him. "Are you quitting?" he demanded.
Nathan turned to him in surprise and confusion. "What gave you that impression?"
"You not shooting and hitting targets right now, grumbling under your breath... A quitter." Dean said purposefully; knowing exactly what was needed to draw Nathan from the shell that he's wrapped himself in when Dean had taken him out here.
"I am not a quitter." Nathan growled back, his gip tightening on the shotgun's grip.
"Really? I find it insulting right now that we're related, brothers—twins no less." Dean shook his head in disappointment, his lips curling in disgust.
Nathan's face went completely blank for a second; he didn't quite get why that seemed to cut so deep. He barely knew this guy, his supposed twin brother. He didn't know why Bobby seemed to be pushing this; trying to keep grouping them together like it was that important or something. Nathan had been fine the way things were; where he only had Bobby, his father, and that was it—no Winchester brothers, no Angels and no Apocalypse.
Nathan gritted his teeth as he glared daggers at Dean; almost drawing blood. He didn't say anything as he spun around to face the targets again and held the shotgun the way the Dean had shown him, and cocked it, pulling the trigger three times.
Dean wasn't going to admit the pride that tickled his insides; since they had first met, he had never really seen Nathan angry—never saw that fire that was buried deep down. And of course he knew how to bring it up, just don't ask him how.
"Good." Dean nodded. "Again." he ordered.
Nathan looked at him for a long moment before he popped in another three shells and cocked, bracing the gun.
"How'd it go?" Bobby asked.
"OK considering." Dean answered vaguely.
"Considering what?" Sam asked.
Dean shrugged his shoulders. "Considering that he's not a Hunter."
"What's up with you?" Sam questioned, his brows furrowed as he looked at his brother who was slouched in the same chair that he had sat when all this crap began.
"What are you talking about?" Dean asked, his expression blank and jaw set as he subtly looked away from Sam and out the window.
"Seriously, Dean."
"I am serious," Dean countered. "I have no idea what you're talking about, Sam."
"Oh, come off it, Dean!"
Dean was silent as he stared very sharp daggers at Sam.
"Quit being an idjit." Bobby grumbled out. "Spit it out, boy; you're just making this worse than it has to be."
Dean's nostrils flared slightly as looked between the two of them. "What do you think is wrong with me? The worlds going to shit, Cas is acting frigin' crazy—and we have a brother, who happens to be my twin. A brother that dad gave away, a brother that Bobby raised—and he doesn't feel like a brother either, it's just like a big fat betrayal staring us right in the face!" he shouted, jumping from his chair in all the excitement.
"Whoa!" Sam held up his hands, surprised.
Bobby was silent now, feeling the guilt eat through his skin like acid. He really didn't know what to say to make this right; not having realized the real toll that this would have on the boys—especially Dean; Nathan was his long-lost twin after all. He had thought that this would be good, to have something of their dad and mother around them again—the brothers were all about family after all.
Dean clenched his hands at his sides. "You wanted to know what was going on, so don't get all surprised, Sam. You guys always ask and I tell that there's nothing to talk about—but you always have to push it!"
Sam's brows shot to his hair line as Dean turned and stomped rather loudly away and out the door, the screen door slamming behind him.
Bobby winced, but didn't comment.
"Uh," Sam looked at Bobby.
"We walked right into that," Bobby confirmed.
"I never knew he felt that way," Sam admitted.
"Neither did I; I didn't anticipate you boys meeting Nathan being this strenuous." he said gruffly with emotion.
Sam gave him a sympathetic look. "It's more hard on him than not; he's more upset about dad not telling him about Nathan than the fact that he's actually a twin. But it did add extra weight with the whole Devil situation." he shrugged his shoulders, the gesture accompanied with a wince.
Bobby just silently glowered at him for the moment; hoping that Dean would be in a better mood once he cooled off for a bit.
Nathan rubbed his eyes tiredly, his eye lids felt like sandpaper every time he blinked. After about two or three hours of gun practice—having been left to his own devices after Dean had left him after an hour of showing him the ropes; how to handle the weapon safely, how to shoot and how to disassemble and reassemble it. Then he had to study the hell out of this Supernatural crap, learn the Latin exorcism and how to draw the Devil's traps. So he had been out here by the fence since the early morning and it was nearly dark.
At the moment he had been working on the mastering the ways of the Devils' trap; he had to be able to create it on the fly. But it was getting hard to stare at the page, the image doubling. He squeezed his eyes shut for a second before he tried to finish the trap—he'd done pages and pages of this and his hand was totally cramping up.
Nathan let out an explosive sigh as he threw his pencil down onto the picnic table and laid his head on the table top; there was no way that he could continue this for any longer, especially not today. How the hell was he supposed to soak all of this into his brain in such a sort time? He sucked at school, needing a tutor in high school to help him study, so how the hell was he gonna be able to do this? Granted, right now high school meant nothing now—so maybe now that studying meant something this time around, it would help this stuff stick.
He lifted his head up and noticed Dean coming from the house, the screen door slamming behind him and Nathan flinched reflexively—that was one of the things that really pissed dad off.
"Dean," he called, trying to gain the other man's attention. "Dean!" he yelled this time and Dean paused, turning in his direction. Nathan waved him over and after Dean glanced in the other direction, started to walk towards him.
As much as Dean wanted to storm off and get lost in the maze of cars, he knew that he'd be a total ass if he just blew Nathan off—despite what he felt on the inside. When he arrived at the table, his brows rose at the cluttered mess on the table top; books were everywhere, bullets and a few guns as well as paper full of Devil's trap sketches.
"I was wondering if you could look these over," Nathan told him tentatively. "I know that I can just compare them to the pictures on the book, but I thought that it would be better if they were looked over with an expert eye."
Dean looked at him for a long moment before he sighed internally and slid onto the bench next to Nathan, looking at the vast range of Devil's traps that he had drawn. There was a load of them, so Dean just focussed on the sketches that were on the top of the pile; knowing that these were the most recently done and would be Nathan's best work thus far.
"They're good." Dean told him, nodding. "Tomorrow we'll get you try them on a bigger scale."
Nathan gave a sigh of relief. "Thank god, I was pretty sure that my hand was going to fall of pretty soon."
Dean's lips twitched ever so slightly at that; remembering how he felt when his dad made him do the same thing when he was a kid. But then again, Nathan wasn't a kid, though Dean knew that it was just the same—Nathan didn't really know about the Supernatural and here he was now, trying to stuff his brain full of all the information that he could in the short time that he had to learn it and remember it.
Dean also realized that he couldn't really hate Nathan because it wasn't his fault that they were both in this situation. His brain told him that he could understand where Bobby had come from in trying to protect Nathan from the Supernatural, but his heart felt the betrayal of the lie that both John and Bobby had done. Nathan was supposed to be his brother, his twin—and he knew that you were never supposed to do that to siblings especially with two babes that had a close of a connection as to be in the same womb for nine whole months.
Nathan was giving him a hesitant smile and Dean could only stare; the stretch of those lips were familiar, they matched his own after all. He could see John and Mary in him, the same way that he saw it in himself and the way that he saw it in Sam. It was there and there was no doubt that Nathan was a Winchester, none at all.
"Dean..." Nathan started as hesitant as his smile; Dean watched him patiently. "I know that this is a shit-y time to talk about it, considering, but I was wondering if we could get this whole twin-thing out of the way—I can't take the tension anymore."
Dean stared at him for a moment before he spoke; his wall in place. "So talk then."
Nathan sighed. "Look, I don't know you so I don't know how you really feel about the fact that we're related; hell, I don't even no how I feel either. But I guess that it'd be confusing and hurtful; I can see how close you and Sam are to dad, you guys know each other on a deeper level then him and me. And I know I feel kinda betrayed about the fact that dad lied to me all this time and I know that you'd feel the same, but I know that dad was protecting me and that he was protecting you too. Though you see it different…" Nathan looked back at Dean, a little fearful of what he might do or think.
Dean hated this, hated the fact that he knew that there was going to be a lot chick-flick moments after he found out that Bobby had a son and that son was his twin brother. He knew it and he had tried to run, but he couldn't; it was just going cause him to explode if he held all of it in—hell, he'd already exploded on Sam and Bobby. He was fine with holding it in, with burying all that shit deep down and covering it in concrete. But with everything that had happened; Sam getting killed and Dean selling his soul, going to Hell and getting brung back by an Angel, trying to stop 66 Seals from being broken and the Devil escaping from Hell, all this Angel shit and Apocalyptic gung-ho—all of it, he had been able to bury it, but now with this? It hit deeper home than anything else; family was everything to Dean, it was all that he had other than the Impala. Dad, Sammy, Bobby and now even Castiel; and the way that both dad and Bobby had both lied and kept something like this from him, something as big as this. He couldn't hold it in; he had to let it out.
Dean his fingers through his light hair, giving a heavy sight; might as well get this over with.
"You're right," Dean agreed. "Bobby was more of a father to me and Sam than our actual dad was—and the same seems to go for you too. As much as I don't want to admit it, but I think that dad made the right choice in giving you to Bobby; he's a good man and he did right by you—probably one of the better things that dad ever did. Don't ask me how I feel about it when I look at you because right now all I see is proof of a betrayal." Dean told him, his expression saying exactly what he was feeling right now.
"You can't blame dad for this," Nathan told him, referring to Bobby. "I know that you're upset with him, but don't hate him for this."
"I don't hate him," Dean said.
"I know that you don't want me any part of this," Nathan spoke quietly. "Whether it's 'cause you hate me or think I'm an amateur—but it doesn't matter, because you guys need all the help you can get."
Dean gave him a hard stare. "Why do you keep trying to saddle up on that high-horse of yours?"
"What?" Nathan furrowed his brows. "I am not trying to get on any horse, okay? And I'm not bragging, I'm just stating a fact."
"No," Dean disagreed. "You're bragging about the fact that you think the whole world is going to end if we don't have you around."
"I am not!"
"The only reason you're a part of this now is because Sam and me had a bad moment of bad timing, and that was what lead to this; you being involved with when there is no need."
"Castiel thinks otherwise." Nathan countered; hating the fact that Dean kept making him feel useless, because now he was actually starting to believe it—what the hell use was a pro-basketball player in a possible Apocalyptic world, anyway?
"Cas has been in way over his head as of late." Dean answered coolly; surprised that Nathan had the guts to bring up Castiel.
"Why are you so against this, really?" Nathan asked, slid from the bench and looking down at Dean, his gaze determined. "Because whether or not you like, Dean, I'm here to stay." he didn't wait for Dean to answer, didn't even know if he would or would just punch him in the face—so before he could, Nathan turned and stocked off, leaving Dean alone with all of his study material.
"Wow," was all that came from Dean's mouth as Nathan disappeared around a pile of junk-cars.
Note: Hoped you enjoyed the update; for this chapter I did focus more on the feelings of the character than about the Devil and stuff.
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