When Laurel dropped by the bar after work business was slow so Dean could talk with her while he worked. She beamed at him as soon as he looked up at her. "I had lunch with my father today…" Dean quirked a brow; it was as close as he would come to asking her to continue. "You told him about your mark, and had a photo." She glanced over to where Sam usually sat but he wasn't there.
"He's sleeping over at a friend's place. The boy's dad is one of the policemen I know, he's working day shift this week so he'll be home tonight. Sammy will be safe there." When her eyes widened he realised that parents didn't normally require so much of a safety net.
He was called away to one of the patrons and by the time he got back to her he had made up his mind. "Even if we do just stay friends, we're marked; there are some things you ought to know about me and Sammy. If you can wait until I finish work, we can talk about a few things?"
He was shocked by her immediate agreement to the idea. She seemed to always be so easy going when it came to changing plans to talk to him. "Of course I can Dean. I've got no plans tonight, and I've got the weekend off from work – we can talk as long as we need to." Someone called his name and she smiled at him. "I'll go sit in Sam's booth until you finish work."
x x x
Once the last customer had left, with assurances he would catch a cab rather than walk home, Dean locked the door and flicked off the 'OPEN' sign. "Alright, Laurel." He turned to find her walking towards him.
"There's a little twenty-four hour coffee shop not too far from here…" she felt like Dean talked to her in the bar to remind her, as a statement of this is what I am. She didn't care that he was a barman, but he did. She needed to get him out of this environment to talk to him.
He shook his head slowly. "The things I have to tell you, they're not things I can have other people overhearing…" the worry and horrors in his eyes backed up his statement.
She worried her bottom lip as she considered her options. "Alright then, my place isn't too far from here either…"
He nodded slowly. "Ok, but you call your dad and tell him you're having me over to talk." She could see by the look in his eyes that he wouldn't tell her why she had to call her father and let him know, but it was important to him that she did. She called her father as they walked to her apartment, and noticed Dean's shoulders relax ever so slightly when she did.
x x x
He was standing in the middle of her lounge room, looking around with curiosity, as she hung up her coat. "Do you want a cup of coffee? Or I think I might have beer…"
"Coffee would be great, thank you. I ah…I don't drink, just so you know." He had his back to her, but she could still hear the anymore at the end of his sentence. Alcohol had been a problem for him at some point.
He followed her into the kitchen, watching intently as she grabbed bits and pieces out of different cupboards. She had the strange feeling that should she ask him to make coffee next time, he would know exactly where everything was.
As the kettle boiled she turned to him. "Milk or sugar?" a quick shake of the head. Straight black, just like her father and the other policemen drank theirs.
x x x
When they were sitting in the lounge, on opposite sides of the room because of Dean's choice of chair, Laurel wasn't sure where to start. "So…did you have an idea of where you wanted to start this conversation? Because I'm at a loss…"
Dean glanced up at her from his coffee cup before quickly looking back down and giving a slight nod. "I know where to start and what I want to tell you. But I need you to know that if you need to kick me out at any point; all you need to do is tell me, ok?"
He waited until she nodded her agreement before he continued. "My mother died when I was young…saving Sammy. Dad blamed us both, because I was meant to keep an eye on him, and mum shouldn't have had to get in the way. That's why he burned my mark off when I asked about it – because I stole his soul mate from him, he would remove mine from me." he was staring intently into his coffee cup. "Bobby came to visit for some other reason and took me to the hospital."
Laurel's face paled. "He did that to you and didn't even take you to a hospital? Some stranger had to take you?"
Dean shook his head. "Bobby's no blood relation, that's true enough, but he's more a father than John ever was." He paused for a second, considering whether he should add what he wanted to. "The only reason Bobby took me to the hospital was because my mark was involved. Otherwise I would have been fine to treat it myself."
Laurel took a shaky sip of tea in an attempt to hide the pain she felt for Dean. He had been a child, and that monster had tried to remove his chance of ever being with his soul mate. Had cut his mark off and burnt him with acid. Dean watched her closely as the information sunk in, and he could see the second she realised what the last bit of information hinted at.
"You were a child, why would you have been able to take care of such a wound yourself Dean?" he didn't answer, but continued to watch her. She was smart enough to put two and two together. He knew that if he let her connect the dots, she would absorb it better. Her face paled even further. "You'd done it before. Taken care of your own wounds."
He could see questions rising in her eyes and took a deep breath. This next bit had been worrying him. "My father's life isn't entirely…legal. Which means that until I was old enough to leave, with Sam, neither was mine."
Laurel nodded calmly. That didn't bother her so much as what his father had done to him. "You were a minor, and fully dependent on your father for yours and your brother's safety – no court would convict you."
Dean grimaced. "They might if they heard about some of the things I had to do…" he glanced up at her. "And so might you."
She shook her head. "That's your business until you decide you want to tell me about it. But I've seen the way you look after Sam, if his life depended on you doing things for your father, I have no doubt you would have done them. Nor do I blame you for that. You did what was necessary for you and Sam to survive. And you got out as soon as you were able."
He stared at her for a long time. There were things he never wanted to tell her, but if he didn't tell her and she found out later on…it would ruin any chance they had at even friendship. Laurel saw his concern and smiled. "I'll keep in mind that you did unspeakable things in order to keep your brother safe. I won't build you up on some impossible pedestal because I know you're just a man, a man who comes with a horrible past but fought his way out of that." She paused a moment before continuing. "And I do realise that some of the things you had to do to get out of that life were probably worse than anything your father ever made you do."
He nodded, unable to find words. He was in awe of this woman and her easy acceptance of him. He had expected to be kicked out of her apartment and her life long before this. But she just accepted each fact, with pain on his behalf, and moved on to the next. How had he ever gotten so lucky to have her as a soul mate?
"I realise you come with baggage, and that it's going to take time in this new life to realise the fact that you as your own person are a wonderful human being. But I also know that even without your baggage, you would hang back because you work in the bar. I don't care what you do for a job, Dean, as long as you're happy."
He blinked in shock; she could read him too well already. Hopefully it had something to do with being marked, and wasn't due to any slipping of skills on his part. "Whenever you are able or want to, I would like to go on a date, ok?"
x x x
Laurel woke to someone pounding on her door at 5am. When she checked the peephole she saw it was Dean, with Sam in tow. She opened the door and stepped aside to let them in. Dean looked worried and Sam looked flustered. Something had to be wrong for them to be so open in their worry.
"You're not working tomorrow, are you Laurel?" she shook her head, confused. "I need to leave Sammy here with you for the weekend, if that's ok?"
"Sam is always welcome, you know that Dean. But what's going on?" he was more tense than usual and seemed to be paying attention to everything.
He didn't answer for a moment, and she didn't think he was going to. "Our dad is coming to town. There's nothing here for him business-wise, so he's here for us. When he signed Sam over to me I made it clear that whatever town we lived in, he wasn't to so much as pass through. I can't have Sam around when he gets here to cause trouble…" he paused for a moment. "I doubt he'll come to you; he'll want to cause me problems. But if you get worried, call your dad – he knows what's going on."
Sam hugged Dean and the older brother leant down to whisper something in his ear. When he stood straight again Sam seemed calmer and just as aware of his surroundings as Dean was.
When Sam went into the lounge-room Dean stepped closer to Laurel, brushing a kiss against her lips. "I'm sorry for the drama so early in the morning, but I promise he won't get near you and Sam."
x x x
Quentin found an older man standing in the middle of the bar, looking carefully at the mess. "I'm assuming you're Bobby…"
The stranger nodded. "Nice to meet you, Quentin. I didn't get a chance to warn the boy that his daddy managed to hire a gang. He normally works with small teams, less people to rise up against him, see."
"He didn't even try to find Sam. I don't understand it. Dean said that if John had the choice, he would take Sam…"
Bobby shook his head sadly. "John will do whatever will hurt Dean the most. He thinks Sam is alone without Dean, doesn't realise those boys can be loved. So he takes Dean, makes Sam homeless. And in the meantime, he can torture Dean as he pleases."
Quentin paled. He couldn't understand how a man could do that to his own son. "So what do we do now Bobby?" Bobby raised a brow in question. "This is your world, you know how it works. All I want to do is get Dean back before he gets too injured, and keep Sam and Laurel safe. If we can manage to lock the bastard up as well, that would be great. But I've got my priorities right. I'll follow your lead."
Bobby nodded his head slowly, considering the options available. "There's only a number of places near here that John would take him…places that don't have neighbours too close." He cringed, remembering the last time John had been even close to this mad at Dean. It had taken the boy twelve months to heal fully. "And we need to get him back before too long…Dean has a bad habit of showing that man that he can't hurt him, so John just tries harder."
Quentin followed Bobby to his truck, more than happy to ride with the man; it would give him a chance to ask questions. Questions that he couldn't ask Dean.
"He seems…unwilling to have any kind of connection with Laurel. He wants to, that's clear, but he holds himself back. Before he'd even take her out he told her so many awful things about himself…" he left it hanging, if Bobby wanted to add information or insight, he would. But Quentin couldn't bring himself to straight out ask his questions, it felt too much like prying where he didn't belong.
Bobby nodded in agreement. "I'm aware of what's been going on here, despite the fact I haven't been here. Between the two boys I've been kept up to date. What you need to understand about Dean is that he doesn't think he's worthy, of anything. John was in his ear for so long, putting him down, that he can't believe anything else. He doesn't understand why Sam chose him over me, why I jump at the chance to help him, why you've been so accepting and supportive, or why Laurel accepted him into her life. He can't see what we see. When he looks in the mirror, he sees either a monster or a disappointment."
"If he can't see the good, there would be nothing there to counteract the bad that he's been forced to do…" Bobby nodded in agreement to Quentin's epiphany.
x x x
Bobby kicked in the front door of the falling down cottage and came face to face with a startling mess. There were four dead men lying scattered about the room, and Dean was lying in the middle of them. Bobby rushed over to him while Quentin kept watch.
Dean's eyes opened when he felt someone moving him. "Bobby, you need to call an ambulance."
Bobby nodded, scanning Dean's injuries and categorizing them. His wounds were surprisingly not too bad. "Given your aversion to hospitals, I can patch all this up at home if you like…"
Dean shook his head slightly. "It's not for me. John is going to need an ambulance…if he hasn't died already…"
Quentin watched on in shock. If it hadn't been for his injuries, Dean would have been half way home by now. To go from tortured captive to free man on his own…his skills had to be more extensive than Quinton had realised. The only thing that kept Dean tied to his job at the bar was his refusal to slip back to his old life. He didn't realise he would easily qualify for legal jobs requiring the same kind of skills.
"Alright boy, we'll get you out of here and then call the ambulance and the cops. I'm sure you're daddy has enough illegal things lying around here to get him locked up for a good long while." Bobby nodded decisively. Dean glanced over to Quentin, expecting him to protest at removing Dean before calling the police – he made no such protest.
"Alright Bobby. Just…go easy on the ribs and the shoulder, yeah?" Dean watched the rage boil up in Bobby's eyes. "Hey, he knows it's a weakness of mine, of course he's going to go right in on them. They've always been his first checkpoint in a beating Bobby, you know that." Dean chuckled as Bobby helped him to stand.
He was badly beaten and bleeding, had just killed four men and almost killed his own father yet was still able to joke around. Quentin hated to think what it would take to make Dean back down. What he had had to survive in the past to be able to laugh this situation off now. He couldn't bear the thought of the things that must have been done to the kid.
x x x
They were half way back to Laurel's place when Bobby called the police, Dean in the back seat categorizing his wounds. He didn't seem bothered that he had just beaten his father half to death, or that he had just been kidnapped and tortured by that same man.
x x x
Bobby, Laurel and Quentin were off to the side when Dean and Sam started chatting about the old days. When Quentin opened his mouth to ask a question, Bobby shook his head and spoke under his breath. "This is just for the boys. They debrief and relax together and then everything goes back to normal. Just watch."
"Hey Dean, do you remember that one drug dealer that dad had living with us for a while? To make sure we didn't run?" Sam smiled up at his brother, pride shining in his eyes.
Dean nodded. "The one who tried to beat you? Who ran away like a girl and didn't come back because I put him on his ass?" Dean chuckled. "Dad was furious when he came home to find his goon had run away from two boys."
"His face when he realised you would kill him if he didn't leave us alone. That was priceless." Sam laughed.
Dean nodded in agreement. "I still can't believe how well you could stitch a wound from the first time you tried." He shook his head. "Better than most doctors I've been to."
Sam rolled his eyes. "That's because you go to illegal doctors. If you ever went to a real hospital you might actually have a good experience with a doctor you know?" Sam paused for a minute, staring at his brother, considering his chances of getting an answer to his next question. "Dean? What did dad do, when you told him to sign the papers?"
Laurel's eyes snapped over to Bobby in shock. "They haven't talked about this? They've been away from John for almost a year Bobby."
Bobby nodded calmly. "These debrief sessions are when both boys are most comfortable to ask and answer anything of each other. If Sam asked at any other point, Dean would have answered, but Sam was content holding off for a debrief."
Dean stared back at Sam for a moment, getting his words in order. "He laughed at first; he thought I was joking. Then when he realised I was serious…he, uh, he put a blade in my shoulder. When I took it out and…gave it back to him, he signed the papers. As I was about to leave he told me he'd hunt me down and cut my head off in front of you. So I went back in, and I convinced him that he would stay away from us or he'd regret it."
Sam nodded slowly. "We got almost twelve months out of whatever you told him. You did well… Can I… Can I ask what you threatened him with?"
Dean was quiet for a long time, intently stitching his own wounds. The others were sure he wasn't going to answer at all. When he spoke his voice was quiet and shaky. "I told him that I remembered every single thing he did to us, every thing he threatened us with. I told him that I would follow through on it all…"
x x x
Bobby took Sam out for ice-cream and a visit to the library to give Dean some time alone with Laurel and Quentin. There were things those three needed to discuss. Convincing Sam that Dean would still be there, that John would never take him again, took almost an hour. He was protective of his older brother in a way that broke Laurel's heart. Brothers should not have to be so protective of each other.
When the door closed behind Bobby, Dean started to pace. He was fidgety. Laurel and Quentin both realised he had been holding it in while Sam was around; still protecting the boy from the actions and consequences of his father.
"Dean? I know full well that your father is…well…there aren't words for how much I despise that man and what he's done to you and Sam. But if you don't talk to me about your life with him, it will always hang over your head. You'll always be worried that you'll say something wrong and I'll take off." Laurel sat beside him on the couch.
Dean closed his eyes, trying to push both the memories and the worry aside. Quentin saw his concern, and his uncertainty of where to go from there, and stepped forward. "Dean, Laurel is right. I had the same fears about her mother. When I finally sat down and told her about it, she accepted it as a part of me."