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The Supernatural characters belong to Kripke Enterprises and the CW, not me. No money is being made from this story. It is for entertainment only.
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A Wandering Boy
Chapter 25
A Brand New Day
From Chapter 24
Kerman and Jerry's mothers most likely would never understand the appeal of wrecked cars to a boy but Bobby's was an all-male house and with the possible exception of the Angel, everyone understood. Bobby had promised the boys would be back home by sunset and the fun was proceeding at a breakneck speed as the kids tried to beat the deadline.
Listening with one ear to the shouts from outside Bobby related his visit with Pastor Gentry to Sam and his angel. Cas seemed to think that it had gone relatively well and he was ready to come out of the panic room. The only fly in the ointment was that Cas could never, ever, meet the Pastor. If Gentry was to discover a twin to his Angel visitor living with that heathen Bobby Singer Cas was sure that the alarm bells would be ringing in Heaven again. One visit from was enough.
Chapter 25
Bobby volunteered to take Jerry and Kerman home in the pickup. After the boys were returned to their families and the front seat was clear Dean slid into the middle of the bench seat and leaned against Bobby's shoulder.
"Thanks, Bobby," the boy said. "That was great. Best weekend ever."
"Was it even better than going hunting with your Dads?" Bobby asked.
"I had fun in the Park when we were looking for the Manitous but it was a little scary. I didn't know what we were doing then" the little boy replied seriously. "I want to do it again but having my friends stay over was the best ever. We can do it again sometime, right?"
Bobby smiled down at the tousled head leaning into his side. "Sure kid. No problem. Just let me know up front. It's good to plan these things, not have them be a big surprise."
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Cas and Sam were on the couch watching T.V. and waiting for the rest of the family to come home. Sam had slowly slipped to the side little by little until his head was resting in Cas's lap. Cas had smiled inwardly at the human's slow approach. Sam was trying hard. He craved the warmth and comfort he knew was being offered but still he hesitated. The slightest sign of rejection would crush him.
He had missed Cas while the Angel was exiled to the panic room. He was haunted by his cold, lonely childhood when he was taught to keep his feelings to himself or they would be ground to dust. Be a man. Boys don't cry. You're a waste of space if you can't pull your own weight.
Stanford had turned into another lesson in self-control. He never forgot he was there on sufferance. A scholarship boy had no room for trifles or comfort. It was work or study day or night. He had made some supposed friends but they were randomly assigned roommates, members of study groups or lunch table acquaintances. People tried occasionally to warm up to him but his fortress walls were sturdy. Most of them stopped trying or wanted something from him in exchange. His girlfriend was left behind easily enough.
No one had made any great effort to reach him after he walked out. He had made a clean break and supposed that they got the message and forgot about him.
Now he had this remarkable creature, an actual Angel, who wanted him and he was learning, slowly, how to accept that.
The last few inches to Cas's lap had been completed with the Angel's hand on his head. Once down and comfortable Cas played with his hair and rubbed his shoulders. It was warm and safe. Sam half dosed and half watched T.V.
When Sam heard Bobby's noisy old truck pull up in front of the house he jerked upright and went to the door. Bobby had stopped at the local market and had a couple of bags to bring in. Dean was certainly pulling his weight. He had his book bag on one shoulder and a shopping bag in one hand. He almost fell out the truck door. Sam stepped forward smiling. This place felt more like home with every passing day.
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It was long past bed time and Dean was still awake. He was still buzzing with the after effects of having his friends over all weekend. He was just too strung up to sleep even through his body was tired from all the running around.
He listened to the sounds of the house settling for the night. Bobby had tromped upstairs long ago. Dean snorted at the thought that the old guy had to go to sleep early because he needed to get up at the ass crack of dawn to get enough time to annoy everyone in the house awake.
He had almost drifted off when Cas and Sam came up talking and laughing on their way. Dean listened as they closed their door and the muffled sounds of conversation drifted through the house.
Finally he gave up. He got up and threw his jacket on over his P.J.s and slipped his feet into his boots. Trying to be as quiet as possible he slipped down the stairs, out the door and ended up leaning on the railing staring up at the stars.
He knew he shouldn't be outside alone. Cas would rip a strip off him for flirting with things that lived in the dark. He stood there breathing the cool night air and thinking about things that no ten year old boy should know. Even though he had become good at ignoring that little nagging voice in his head he knew there had been another life. There had been another Dad, one not as nice as Sam or Cas.
That other voice spoke of nightmares; black dogs, ghosts and bloody knives. It barked and ordered and made Dean cringe. Those memories from his other life scratched at the inside of his head. They were there, just out of reach. He knew he should ignore them. That life was over and this life was good but he kept coming back to the itch.
There was a rustling in the brush and a long drawn out howl echoed in from the hills. The boy pulled his jacket closer around his shoulders. He watched as wisps of cloud scudded across the face of the moon. Something screamed in the dark, most likely the prey of an owl. Everything died eventually but Dean felt that death arriving out of the sky without warning was the worst kind.
He thought of his nice, warm, safe bed inside. He could crawl back in and forget these night thoughts but he did know what was out there. He could pretend them away. Let Bobby, Sam or Cas protect him and be a child for a little while longer. Dean understood that was what Sam wanted for him. He could go on and be that child or he could face what was out in the dark and deal with it. He could be a victim or a Hunter. It was his life; it was his choice.
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The door opened behind Dean, the porch light flickered on and Sam was outlined in shadow.
"Dean," the big man said "what are you doing out there?"
Dean turned to look at his father-brother. "Sorry Sam. Did I wake you guys up?" the boy murmured. "I was trying to be quiet."
Sam turned sideways and held the door open. "You should come in, kid. I thought you were tired."
"I am tired," Dean responded "but I just can't sleep."
"Insomnia, huh?" Sam quietly responded. "Come on in. I'll get you some orange juice. That's good for insomnia."
Dean trailed Sam into the kitchen and parked at the table.
"So what were you thinking about?" Sam asked. "Anything I can help you with?"
Dean considered spilling his thoughts to his father-brother but decided to hold back for morning. Even at ten he knew how night fantasies could look small and unimportant in the harsh light of day. If it still seemed important tomorrow he'd discuss it with Bobby before asking Sam to help with training or take him along on the next hunt.
There was another noise and they both looked up to find Cas standing in the archway, his dark hair looking like he had dragged an eggbeater through it.
"Great," Dean said and picked up his glass of orange juice. "Maybe we can get Bobby down here too. We can have a party."
"Is there a problem?" Cas asked.
"No, Cas." Sam answered him. "Dean's just having a little trouble sleeping."
Cas also pulled out a chair and sat down at the table. "I'm not surprised. It has not been all that many weeks since we came to your world, Sam. I'm actually surprised at how well Dean has handled the transition."
With care Sam distributed more orange juice, providing glasses for both him and Cas this time around. Cas picked up his glass and started at the orange liquid.
"What are you doing, Cas?" Dean asked. "Counting the molecules?"
"I could do that" Cas replied to the boy "if you are interested. This glass of orange juice contains molecules of sugar, potassium, thiamin and folate. It also contains certain flavonoids and the antioxidant hesperidin."
"Cas, stop." Sam interjected. "Please. You're taking all the fun out of the orange juice."
Cas blinked. "Dean asked. I thought I was answering his question. And, no, I don't see anything that might be called 'fun' in the glass. I don't believe fun has molecules."
Sam grimaced. "You're trying to make a joke again, aren't you?"
Dean drank down the rest of his juice and stood up. "Thanks guys. I think I'll just go on back to bed before Cas has me rolling in the aisles. Good night."
Dean went upstairs and snuggled into his bed. As he drifted off he heard Sam and Cas come back up. The click of their bedroom door sent Dean off to sleep. Bobby's house was at peace.