Chapter 9: A chance at happiness (part 2)

After Castiel had left, Dean went into the bedroom. He dug deep until he found what he was looking for. The album cover was coated in dust. It was always there in the back of his closet and the back of his mind. A sort of self inflicted punishment. Maybe it was time he let go a little. Holding on to it had cost him too much. Though the thought of giving it up also hurt, he blew off the dust and wrapped the record on the kitchen table. He put it under the bed, in the square indent in the carpet left by Castiel's chess set.

(***)

Two uneventful weeks passed.

At one Friday night dinner Dean pretended that Castiel was too busy to come, but everything was fine. Jess was not convinced and Dean was afraid that sooner or later Sam would catch on too. They had packed Bobby, Ellen and Jo's presents – Dean sneaking in a present for his father, in case Bobby had his latest address; knowing it would upset Sam if he knew – and Dean was finally forced to confess that it was over with Castiel when Jess asked whether he knew what Castiel would like to get for Christmas.

That second Friday night when she asked the question, they were busy wrapping presents in the living room at Jess and Sam's place. Dean had feigned falling for Sam's puppy eyes when asked to help after dinner, but the truth was that he didn't want to go home yet.

The floor was covered in ten different rolls of wrapping paper, three rolls of tape, name cards, lists, gifts, other assorted wrapping necessities, and three pairs of scissors. They really needed only one pair, because the tasks were divided: Sam got the right gift and cut the paper, Jess wrapped the gift and crossed out the proper name on the list and Dean tied the name card around the present. Yet, when either Jess or he needed to use the scissors, Sam got very snippy, so as a precaution they all had their own pair. To prevent a bloodbath.

'We broke up,' Dean admitted. Nothing could be heard for a full minute. Not the rustling of wrapping paper, not the sound of scissors ripping through paper, not even the sound of the tearing off of strips of tape. Sam and Jess exchanged a look fraught with meaning. They had already known, Dean realised in that moment. They had just been waiting for him to tell them. Wasn't that fucking wonderful?

'Why? He was crazy about you. Still is. He keeps asking me how you're doing,' Sam said. Dean pretended to struggle with a stubborn piece of tape and then started to really struggle with it when it wouldn't comply; eventually simply crunching it into a tiny ball and throwing it on the floor.

'I cheated on him,' he mumbled, staring at the presents strewn across the carpet. How many people did they know anyway? There were big presents for Jessica's parents and three sisters and two brothers. Smaller presents for Sam and Jess' friends and Jess' unending supply of uncles and aunts and cousins. The smallest trinkets were for their study buddies, douchy squash partners and other acquaintances.

'Dean, you are such an asshole,' Sam stated and Jess nudged Sam with her foot, though she didn't seem to entirely disagree.

'I know,' he said and he hated the way he sounded. It was all so self pitying, so little old me, so emo. It was much more Sam than it was him. He briefly considered stabbing himself with the scissors, but they looked kind of dull. Also, that would really be emo.

'Well, have you tried not being an asshole?' Sam asked and Dean flashed back to a particularly uncomfortable moment in one of the many temporary homes of the Winchester family. His dad had been sitting at the kitchen table reading the paper; Sam had been eating his breakfast cereal. Dean had wanted to say, 'pass me the milk, Sam,' but what had come out instead was, 'I'm gay.' The way his father had looked at him; Dean was not likely to ever forget that look. Soon after that the dinners with the priests were inflicted on Dean.

'You're reminding me of a talk I once had with dad,' he wryly replied. Jess handed another present to him and pointed out the appropriate name card. Stringing a ribbon through the annoying little hole in the card, he tied it around the present. That one sure as hell wasn't going to win any beauty prizes any time soon, but Jess put it on the pile of finished presents nonetheless. He suspected she would redo some of the crappier ones later.

'The 'have you tried not being gay' talk? Yeah, he was an asshole too,' Sam commented absentmindedly, as he was trying to locate the right gift. Jess crossed out another name on their long list.

'Don't call him that. He did the best he could. Maybe I'm just an asshole,' Dean said. There was that self pity again. Jess rolled her eyes at him to illustrate what she thought of that assessment.

'No. You're gay, but you're not an asshole,' Sam explained, while he cut a square of wrapping paper that even Dean could see was not big enough for the present he had selected. Jess elbowed Sam out of the way and took his scissors.

'Says the man who just called me an asshole,' Dean shot back, but Sam was too busy glaring at Jess to pay any attention to him. His brother reached around Jess to take her scissors, which Dean didn't think was very smart. Not while she was holding a weapon. Sam seemed to realise that when she threw him a murderous look. He backed away swiftly and faced Dean.

'You behave like an asshole; there's the difference,' Sam remarked and he sighed contentedly when Jess handed him back his scissors.

'I'm pretty sure I behave gay too. Or isn't fucking other men gay?' he asked. Sam blanched and Dean smirked. For all Sam's desperate attempt to hook him up, his brother had never been comfortable with the things that happened in the bedroom. Jess, on the other hand, didn't even blink as she started to wrap a fat and fluffy elephant.

'Yes, but if you stop having relations with men you would still be gay and if you stopped behaving like an asshole you wouldn't be an asshole.'

'Having relations,' Jess mouthed at Dean and they both grinned. Sam ignored them and pretended to concentrate on measuring another present; making sure that he would cut the right amount of paper now.

'So, I am what I am and not what I do,' Dean summarised and he adopted Sam's philosophical voice. It was slightly affected and hilariously pompous. Jess stifled a giggle and Sam glared at them both.

'You are annoying,' he huffed and this time the piece he cut was much too big and the cutting line was ragged. Irritated, Sam pointed his scissors at Dean in an accusing manner, as if to say it was his fault.

'I thought I was being existential,' Dean confessed innocently. He looked Jess' way, but she avoided his gaze and focused on her wrapping job. Her hands were shaking with silent laughter, though, and Sam didn't miss it.

'Well, it's annoying. Your shtick is really starting to wear thin,' Sam snapped. Jess stopped wrapping, while the two brothers stared at each other.

'I hope not,' Dean finally said and he glanced down at his crotch. For a second, Sam looked confused and then a disgusted expression appeared on his face.

'Ew no; shtick. The I can't help being an asshole-act,' Sam said and he opened his mouth to add something else, but Jess threw him a warning glance. Visibly constraining himself, Sam shut his mouth and dropped the subject. They continued to work in silence for a while. Dean wondered what Sam had been going to say.

'How do you think mom would have reacted?' Sam asked when they were done. This was something Sam did all the time; he threw in a vague question and then you had to know what he was referring to. Could be something they had talked about a couple of seconds ago or something he had mentioned a week ago. Time was of no essence to Sam. React to what?

'To me being gay?' Dean guessed and Sam nodded, 'I don't know. I like to think...better.'

Sam and Jess seemed surprised that he'd answered the question. To be honest, Dean was a bit surprised too. He didn't usually discuss his mother. Maybe now he was able to separate the good and the bad times. Not everything needed to remind him of that night. It only ruined his life because he allowed it to. Emo bastard that I am, he thought.

'Well, she hardly could have handled it worse than dad,' Sam joked. They got up from the carpet and Dean shook of the tape that was sticking to his trousers. Like bad luck, he thought, always sticking to me. Always knowing where to find me and beat me down. Mostly because I'm usually yelling in the middle of the street for it to come and run me over, he admitted. He excused himself and walked to the fridge to get a beer. Jess followed him.

'Why did you cheat?' she asked softly. Sometimes when she leaned against the counter in that nonchalant way of hers, with a half smile on her face, Dean seriously wondered why he wasn't at least bisexual. Jess was pretty awesome and undeniably hot. Sam might have crappy taste in men, but he had great taste in women. The beer in his hand shook lightly and he stopped thinking about his sexual orientation. It was what it was. Same as what had happened between Castiel and him.

'I don't know. I thought I had it, I guess,' he admitted as he unscrewed the top and took a long swig. The beer was nice and cold in his mouth, though he was not a fan of Sam's brand of beer. But a beer's a beer. Fuck, next I'm gonna think that 'life is life, nanananana,' he ridiculed himself.

'Happiness,' Jess breathed and it wasn't a question, yet he nodded. He leaned over, took another beer from the fridge and opened it before handing it to Jess. They clanked their bottles together.

'And it was as if I remembered that I couldn't have it, so I just screwed it up. Fucking stupid,' he explained and Jess threw him this look. You think?

'Sam's right, you know. You think you do, but you don't deserve to be this unhappy,' Jess said thoughtfully. And even now, two weeks after the fact, Dean wasn't in the mood for one of their praising sessions. He was funny and interesting and handsome and could be nice if he wanted to, but none of that had prevented him from obliterating the one chance at happiness that he'd had in 26 years, so he didn't want to hear it.

'Just leave it, Jess.'

(***)

The 24th of December.

They'd sent the presents to Bobby, Ellen and Jo – Sam pretending not to notice that the package was a little heavier than the last time he'd inspected it – and now it was Christmas evening. Dean was trying not to drink too much eggnog, mostly because the stuff was beyond gross, and trying not to think about Christmas in general. Not that first Christmas without her. Not what Christmas with Castiel might have been like or how he missed the guy so much that sometimes it physically hurt. Nope, none of that.

Sam was a stickler for tradition. Solid, non-Christian Christmas tradition. Yet, Sam was always the one who insisted on opening the presents on the night before Christmas and not the next morning. Maybe it was the fact that due to the eggnog they were usually hung over and not in a festive mood the next morning or maybe he liked having Dean right there: whatever the reason, it was time to open the presents.

A pair of socks, a new vacuum cleaner, a recently released Metallica album and a bottle of Dean's favourite scotch were Dean's presents. The maddeningly practical gifts were Sam's, but Jess maintained that all the gifts were from the both of them.

Jess got a naughty nurse uniform, – from Dean, which made Sam blush, though he did seem delighted with the possibilities – an ultimate collection of Schwarzenegger DVDs and a coupon for a two person beauty farm weekend. Dean knew she was going to drag Sam there, but he didn't mock him or anything. It was Christmas, after all.

The younger Winchester got two new law books, which he actually liked. Leave it to Sam to like a practical gift, Dean thought. From Jess and Dean together he got a proper watch, because he had none to subtly complained about the one he wore now, and a membership to the vegetable of the month club. Sam managed to look a little miffed at receiving that and punched Dean in the shoulder, but Dean knew he secretly liked it. Sam was dorky like that.

Next morning they would open the gifts from what was effectively their family (The Singers) and friends, but right now there was only one more thing to give. Nervous, Dean swallowed and took the present from under the tree. Sam beamed when he handed it to him.

'More?' he squeaked, immediately excited. Instead of tearing off the wrapping paper as Dean would have done, he slowly tugged at the tape and folded the paper open. The LP Alive, she cried of the Doors was unveiled and Sam looked confused.

'This doesn't really suit your taste in music or mine,' Sam said in a puzzled voice. That was right, because it wasn't Dean's thing and neither was it Sam's.

'It's mom's.'

Suddenly, Sam held the record as if it was extremely breakable. He turned it over and stared at the list of songs on the back. It was as if he expected it to be signed by their mother. Play it again, Sam. Love, mom. Sentimental sucker, Dean thought, but he couldn't help enjoying the look on Sam's face. His brother looked at him with wonder.

'I thought everything either burned or got ruined by smoke or the extinguishing water,' Sam mumbled. That was certainly true for the house. The fire brigade has arrived much too late to rescue the house, let alone Mary. Dean for one hadn't been prepared to hold out hope for the rare times their father allowed them to look at the tiny picture of their mother he kept in his wallet, so he had taken matters into his own hands. That way, at least he had something of hers.

'It was in the trunk of the car. She'd bought it that day. Dad doesn't know I stole it,' Dean admitted. A look passed between Sam and Jess and Dean sincerely wished they were not going to get on his case for stealing. He'd done far worse things. Case in point: Castiel.

'Did you steal something else?' Jess gently asked and he shook his head. The significance of the question escaped him completely, until Sam, with a pained expression on his face, tried to hand the record back to him.

'Then I can't take it. It's the only thing...' Sam began, but Dean pushed the record away and interrupted him.

'I don't have a record player. It was just gathering dust. And I've at least got memories of her, you don't. Keep it,' he said and glanced at the record player. It belonged to Jess. She was the one who advocated vinyl over CDs and was forever pointing out the superior sound of LPs. Sam cradled the record in his arms like a baby.

'Thanks, Dean,' Sam whispered. He sounded choked up and Dean nodded. It was no big deal: just a record, but it felt like an immense relief. A weight of his shoulders. Dean poured everyone some more eggnog. He couldn't stay much longer; he had to work the next day. No vacation for firemen. With all those tangled up cables for the Christmas lights and candles in the windows, things tended to go wrong a little more than usual.

'You almost never talk about it. Not that night, but mom. What she was like,' Sam said, hesitantly. He handed the record to Jess and stared at Dean.

'She was just, you know, mom. She loved us and got mad at us, mostly me. It was nice to feel so safe and so...'

'...loved?' Sam finished. Dean was glad Sam was the one to say it, because at least now the status quo remained unchanged. Sam was still the girl of the family and Dean's manhood was intact. Though, that was what he had felt like when their mother was alive: loved. Loved pretty much unconditionally; even when he'd gotten caught trying to put poison ivy in the mailbox, because the mailman always shooed him as if he was a dog. Even when he had lined the drive way with dinner plates and driven over them with his bike, breaking every last one of them.

Jess put on the LP and Dean had to admit he liked that clear, yet scratchy sound that it produced. He stayed for a bit of the first song, but left before the second one; Light my fire. Irony was a bitch.

(***)

A new year had come and gone. If Dean had been the type of person who made resolutions then around now the time would have arrived that he'd given them up again. His birthday was still a week away, but he was already dreading it. Sam was sure to throw him a surprise party. He was definitely acting conspicuous like hell around Dean, but Dean was praying that it was actually Jess' party that Sam was planning and not his.

'You want to come with me to pick an engagement ring?' Sam asked, before Dean had even properly opened the door. This was a nice surprise, because no matter how wary Dean was about commitment for himself; Jess and Sam made a pretty great couple. Sam entered and looked at the mess. Since Castiel was no longer around, Dean had started to leave things lying around more and more. He thought it was either because he was a huge slob or because he was trying to fill some kind of void; probably both.

'Because gay guys are jewellery experts?' Dean asked, as he closed the door. His brother rolled his eyes and, after relocating a pile of clothes, sat down on the couch.

'Clearly, we're not in Kansas anymore,' Sam deadpanned. His gaze swept over the dirty dishes in the kitchen, the crumpled stack of junk mail next to the door and the clothes strewn everywhere. Dean offered him a drink, but Sam declined.

'Don't quote musicals at me, Sam. I'm not that kind of gay,' Dean retorted with his head in the fridge. There was a tomato somewhere in there and he knew that it was currently carrot month, so he was sure Sam would appreciate a change.

'You did know it was from a musical,' Sam said, triumphantly. The tomato was... sorry looking to say the least. Dean didn't even want to touch it, so he straightened up and shut the fridge.

'That's only because I'm a big fan of Judy Garland,' Dean replied. His voice had never sounded more bitingly sarcastic. Though, Dean couldn't help but wonder whether just knowing that Judy Garland even existed didn't make him that kind of gay.

'Don't choke on your sarcasm there,' Sam advised, before turning serious, 'I'd like you to come, because this is an important moment in my life and I want you to be there with me.'

Dean's heart grew three sizes that day. Then it shrunk right back to its original size when Sam ruined it, by adding after a beat, 'And because gay guys are jewellery experts.'

(***)

Dean refers to the Opus song Live is life, with its chorus of 'Live is life, nanananana.' It actually kind of makes sense, and is a lot less lame, when you remind yourself that the song was recorded with a live audience singing along, but whenever (this) Dean hears it he always erroneously thinks: life is life; that's deep. Man, what a lame chorus. He can't seem to help it.

Another misquotation is 'Play it again, Sam' from Casablanca. Ilsa does say 'Play it once, Sam. For old time's sake,' but the moment the line is associated with has Rick just saying 'Play it.'

'We're not in Kansas anymore' is a quote from the musical The wizard of Oz with Judy Garland.

The 'his heart grew three sizes that day' is a quote about the Grinch from book How the Grinch stole Christmas! by Dr. Seuss.