The normal seven a.m. alarm blared, pulling Dean out of a fitful sleep. For the past eight months his nightmares had gone from visions of Sam falling into the pit, to visions of his daughter dead in a ditch on the side of the road somewhere. That was why he still drank a fifth of whiskey before bed each night, though he'd scaled back significantly during the day. After showing back up at Lisa and Ben's after trying to track down Mack for three weeks, he'd made good on his word. He got a respectable job in construction, helped Ben with his homework, helped Lisa around the house where he could. They'd domesticated him.
Of course, Dean being the paranoid bastard he was, he still had a devil's trap hidden under their rug in the front hall and lined all the exits and window sills with salt. He would check them all before he came to bed each night. Lisa had finally allowed him to sleep in her bed instead of exiling him to the couch like she had those first four months. Beside him, Lisa stirred as he dismissed the alarm. "You okay?" she asked him. "Yeah, I'm good," he nodded, scrubbing a hand down his face and then kissing her good morning.
It wasn't the same… Sure, he cared for Lisa a lot, but he couldn't help but compare her to Cas all the time. He'd tried praying to him a couple times back when Mack first went missing, but hadn't gotten a response from the angel. So, he'd resigned himself to a life with a woman who's kindness he didn't deserve and a young boy who couldn't quite hold a candle to the girl he lost. This was his life now.
After work that day, he met Sid at the bar. Sid had helped a lot the past eight months, referring him for the construction job, helping him stay on top of his drinking habits so he didn't slip back into the patterns from the first four months. While Sid got a beer, he stuck with a respectable club soda. The only alcohol he allowed himself to have these days was that fifth before bed, and that was only to help him cope with the nightmares.
"And thank God this is before Facebook, right? Because it'd be me and that goat all over the internet," Sid laughed as he told Dean some embarrassing thing he'd done years ago. "Don't get me wrong, right? No complaints. But if you'd said to me, 'hey, you- fifteen years from now? Suburbia.'" Dean chuckled, nodding a little as he sipped from his glass. "Oh. Yeah."
"Right?" Sid chuckled again, sipping his own drink. "Believe me, I know," Dean smirked. "So, you traveled around a lot, huh?" That was something else nice about these past eight months- he'd gotten to know Sid a lot better now that he was sober. He'd shared more a little about himself- keeping the monster bits out of it, of course- and in return, had gotten to know the man who'd been trying to keep him on track all year. "Mm-hmm. Yeah, my whole life, pretty much."
"And?" Sid pressed when he didn't elaborate. "I don't know," he shrugged. "Come on. What, you moved in, what, about a year ago now?" Dean nodded, "Yeah, thereabouts." He didn't like to think about it. "So, I been dragging your sorry ass out of here and helping you out for a year. And I think that means you owe me a couple gory details." Sid stared at him expectantly and he frowned. "Oh, no. There's not much to tell, you know? It's, uh… I lived on the road… Took, uh, crap jobs that nobody else wanted."
"Like?"
"Like… Pest control." Monsters were pests, basically. Just a lot more deadly than some mice in the walls. "Really?" Sid raised his eyebrows. "Pest control?" Dean nodded, spinning his glass slowly in his hands on the table. "Yeah. You get to work with a partner. You get to help people. You have no idea what's in some people's walls. It could eat 'em alive." Sid was shaking his head in disbelief. "Yeesh," he breathed. "'Course, that was then. And now…" Dean's throat closed up.
"You're practically respectable," Sid smirked at him. Dean blinked, realizing, "Yeah. Wow. I guess so. That's kind of scary, actually." The waitress came over, placing the receipt on their table and flashing Dean her cleavage as she did so. "Thanks, guys," she let her hand linger on the back of his chair before walking off. "Thank you," Sid called after her, then looked at him. "I think she likes you." Dean held up the receipt, which had the name Brigitta with two hearts dotting the 'i's and a phone number on it, "You think?"
Sid shook his head, chuckling, "What is it with you?! Like, every time." Dean also chuckled, ripping up the receipt. "It's like chicks specifically dig unavailable guys. Who knew?" Sid stood, still chuckling to himself as he clapped Dean on the shoulder, "I will see you tomorrow. I will see you tomorrow." Dean smiled at him as he went, "Thanks, man." As he was driving home, a woman screamed in the distance. He got out of his truck, grabbing a gun and a flashlight, and entered a deserted building.
As he was investigating, he came across some claw marks and blood, but there was no sign of anybody else around. When he got home, he got on the computer, the bottle of whiskey next to him while he called in what he'd found. "And no one's called about a missing person?" he asked. "No, this would have been today… So no reports of anything around Vineland and Oak street, near that hotel renovation?... Uh, call it a hunch. I've been a cop for a long time… Okay, yeah." Lisa appeared in the doorway, hugging her robe closed as she blinked at him sleepily. "No, I'll call you tomorrow. You too, man. Bye," he hung up quickly.
"Hey. Who was that?" she asked him. "Sid. I'm just setting up a poker game." Lisa frowned, "It's 11:30." Dean glanced at the clock on the computer, confirming that, yes, it indeed was that late. "Is it really?" he chuckled nervously. "Well, that explains why he was asleep when I called. I'll be right up." He didn't miss how Lisa eyed the bottle of whiskey on the computer desk with disdain. "Okay," she nodded, turning and heading upstairs. He let out a sigh, pouring himself one last glass of the whiskey and downing it quickly before shutting off the computer. He checked all the windows and doors, as well as the devil's trap, and then went upstairs to join Lisa.
The next day, he saw some more claw marks on a light pole like the ones he'd seen in the abandoned building. When he went to investigate, he was startled by a small dog in his garage. "Dean!" Sid called from across the street. "Is that a gun?" Dean smiled guiltily, putting it away as he tried to explain, "No, no. Yeah. Well, it's- I got a permit for it." Sid frowned skeptically, "What, to shoot the Glickman's dog?" How did he get out of that one? Uh… "I thought it was a possum," he lied quickly. "Remember when I said I was in pest control? Well, possums carry rabies, so…" He imitated the sound of a gunshot.
"I did not know that," Sid mused. "Oh, yeah," Dean nodded, rolling with it now. "Yeah. Possums- possums kill, Sid." He spotted something yellow and touched it, sniffing. "Oh, crap." Sid was still staring at him curiously. "What's that?" he asked. "Sulfur," Dean answered. "I gotta go."
"Hold on, Dean!" Sid yelled after him. "What the hell?" He hurried into the garage, lifting part of the tarp covering the Impala so he could get into the trunk. He began packing some weapons into a duffel bag when he was joined by Lisa. "Hey," she greeted him. He quickly covered for himself, holding up a tool from his toolbox for work. "Just getting a hammer," he said. "So, I just ran into Sid. Did you almost shoot a Yorkie?"
"Technically," he mumbled. She frowned, looking at him with concerned brown eyes. "What's going on?"
"Nothing."
"How come I don't believe you?" she pressed and he sighed. "I just- I, uh, I-I got this- I don't know, spidey-sense," he stammered. "Okay. Are you hunting something?" Her tone was disapproving. That was one of the many reasons why, despite the growing attachment he'd developed during his year off, he couldn't quite fully commit to loving Lisa. While she understood his past and what he did, he always got the sense that she hated him for bringing that part of his life into her home. "Honestly," he sighed, admitting defeat. "Uh, at first, I thought I was. But I'm pretty sure I got worked up over nothing. It's uh, you know…"
"It happens," Lisa nodded. "Are you sure?" he asked her in surprise. She nodded again and he came over to her. "I'll tell you what- just because, you know, I have an OCD thing about this, why don't, uh, why don't you and Ben go to the movies, hit the cheesecake factory- you know, hang out with the teeming masses, and I'll do a sweep just to be a hundred percent."
"Okay," she nodded reluctantly. "Be careful." He smirked at her, "Careful's my middle name." He gave her a kiss and then sent her on her way. As soon as she was out, the light crackled. As he searched the garage, he was suddenly confronted by Azazel. "Hiya, Dean. Look what the apocalypse shook loose. You have fun sniffing that trail? 'Cause I sure had fun patting you around." Dean's eyes widened in shock and fear. "You can't be…" he trailed off.
He'd killed Azazel. Shot him point-blank with the Colt. "Oh, sure I can!" Azazel grinned at him. "No," he shook his head, backing up. "Yeah, kiddo. The big daddy brought your pal Cas back, right? So why not me? Add a little spice to all that- that sugar." He shot at Azazel, but it didn't do anything to the demon. "Really? After all we've been through together? You know, you've got a great little life here. Pretty lady- real understanding. Hell of a kid, even if he's got nothing on that little angel who ran away. And how do you keep your lawn so green? I mean, come on, Dean. You never been what I'd call brainy, but did you really think you were gonna keep all this? You had to know we were coming at some time, pal. You can't outrun your past."
Azazel started to strangle him, and just before he passed out, someone came up from behind to save him- Sam. He woke up in an abandoned house, confused, as he saw Sam in front of him. "Hey, Dean," Sam greeted him. "I was expecting, uh… I don't know, a hug, some holy water in the face- something." Dean furrowed his brow, a churning feeling in his gut. "So I'm dead? This is Heaven? Yellow Eyes killed me, and now-"
"Yellow Eyes?" Sam interrupted him with a frown. "That's what you saw?" Dean blinked. "'Saw'?" he repeated. "You were poisoned. So whatever kind of crazy crap you think you been seeing, it's not real." Somewhere in the back of his mind, he thought Sam felt a little off, but his mind was working a mile a minute and that thought got lost before he could really acknowledge it. "So, then, are you… real?" he asked slowly. "Or- or am I still-"
"I'm real," Sam assured him, though his tone wasn't reassuring. "Here let me save you the trouble. All me." Sam cut himself with a silver blade and then put some salt in a jug of water and drank it while Dean watched. Again, that thought that something was off nagged to be paid attention to, but was ignored for the time being. "That's nasty," Sam made a face. "Sammy?" Dean breathed. "Yeah. It's me." Dean stepped forward, pulling his baby brother into a tight embrace. That voice in his head whispered that it felt like hugging a brick wall, not like hugging Sam, but still, he ignored it.
"Wait a minute, wait a minute," Dean pulled back, pointing at Sam accusingly. "You- you- you were- you were gone, man. I mean, that- that was it. How the hell are you-" Sam shook his head, "I don't know." Dean scoffed, "What do you mean you don't know?" His brother frowned, "I mean, no idea. I-I'm just back." That wasn't right. That couldn't be right. "Well, was it God, or- or- or Cas? I mean, does Cas know anything about it?"
"You tell me. I've been calling. Cas hasn't answered my prayers. I don't even know where he is. I mean, I was… down there, and then, next minute, it's raining, and I'm lying in that field, alone. It's kind of hard to go looking for whatever saved you when you got no leads. But I looked. Believe me, I looked… for weeks." Alarm bells were going off in Dean's head. "Wait, weeks?" he frowned. "How long you been back?" Sam didn't respond. "How long you been back, Sam?"
"About a year," Sam mumbled. Dean's jaw dropped. "About a year?" he whispered. "Dean-" Sam began. "You been back practically this whole time?! What, did you lose the ability to send a friggin' text message?!" Sam blinked at him, not getting worked up about it like Dean expected him to. "You finally had what you wanted, Dean."
"I wanted my brother alive!"
"You wanted a family," Sam corrected apathetically. "You have for a long time, maybe the whole time. I know you. You only gave it up because of the way we lived. But you had something, and you were building something. Had I shown up, Dean, you would have just run off. I'm sorry. But it felt like after everything, you deserve some regular life."
"I ruined their life!" Dean shouted. "I was a friggin' mess for four months! I don't even know why they let me in! And then after Mack-" he cut himself off, his throat closing up abruptly, unable to talk about that. He changed the subject in a softer voice. "What have you been doing?"
"Hunting." Oh, hell, no. "You left me alone, and you were flying solo?" Dean growled. "Not solo," Sam corrected. "What?" Sam elaborated, "I hooked up with some other people." No, that wasn't right. Sam would never do something like that. Not the Sam he knew. "You? Working with strangers?" he raised an eyebrow questioningly. "They're more like family. And they're here." Sam led him into the adjoining room where three other people were waiting. "Hey," the one girl greeted him. "Hi," he returned shortly. "My God, you have delicate features for a hunter."
He gaped at her, unsure how he was supposed to take that. "Excuse me?" Sam smirked, "Dean, Gwen Campbell," he introduced the woman. "Good to finally meet you," she said. "Sam's gone on and on." Sam gestured to the other two guys, "And this is Christian… and Mark. Campbell." Mark waved, "Hi." Dean was stuck on their last name. "Cam- Campbell? Like…"
"Like your mom," Christian nodded. "Third cousin," Sam pointed at Gwen. "Third cousin," he pointed at Christian. "Something, something twice removed," he finished with Mark. "They grew up in the life, like Mom and us." Dean couldn't fully comprehend what was happening. "I thought all of Mom's relatives were gone. And I'm sorry. It's just, you know, why didn't we know about any of you?" Another man, this one older with a balding head came into the room. "'Cause they didn't know about you. Not until I brought you all together." Dean stared in disbelief at his grandfather. "Samuel?" Samuel turned to Gwen, Christian and Mark. "Guys, give me a second with my grandsons here, please." The trio exited the room.
"Lot of resurrections in your face today," Samuel acknowledged, noticing Dean's expression. "It's alright. Take a minute." Dean shook his head, "It's gonna take a little more than a minute. I mean, what the hell? H-how did this happen?" Samuel explained, "We're guessing whatever pulled Sam up pulled me down. So, whatever this is, we're both a part of it." Dean frowned. "But you don't know what that is."
"Bingo."
"And you have no leads? Nothing? Well, this- this is, uh… No more doornails coming out of that door, is there?" Dean eyed the door where his cousins had disappeared. "As far as we know, it's Samuel, and it's me," Sam replied. "Okay, am I the only one here that- that- that thinks this can't all just be fine?" Samuel shook his head. "Believe me, you're not. I wanted to come get you, of course. Sam was adamant about leaving you out, so we did. Until this."
"Right. So, then you ended up in my garage how?" he questioned his brother. "I got hit before you did, few days ago. Dosed up with poison," Sam explained. "By?" Sam shrugged, "Couple of djinn." Dean blinked. "Djinn? I thought those were- were cave-dwelling hermit-types. That's pretty exotic."
"Not anymore, at least," Sam corrected. "These… look like regular people. They can blend in. And all they gotta do to kill you is touch you. Their toxins get in your system, all of a sudden you're hallucinating your worst nightmares, and pretty soon you O.D." Dean frowned, "Then how are you breathing air?" Sam gestured to their grandfather, "Samuel had a cure."
"You got a cure for djinn poison?" Samuel smirked. "Oh, I know a few things. Stick around, I'll show you tricks your daddy never even dreamed of." At the mention of John, Dean's stomach flipped, making him think of the way he blew up at Lisa and Ben when he learned Mack ran away. "Uh… Okay, why are these things after us?" he pushed the thoughts away. "Well, you did stake one a while back," Samuel reminded him. "After they came after me, we were pretty certain they were gonna go gunning for you next."
"Lisa and Ben-" Dean's stomach dropped, "they're at the house right now. If that thing comes back-" Samuel cut him off, "It's alright. I already sent someone over to watch 'em." That wasn't good enough. After Mack, Dean had to see for himself that they were alright. "You got to take me home right now."
At the Braeden house, Johnny Campbell, the one Samuel sent to watch Lisa and Ben, was dead in his car. Dean rushed into the house, searching frantically. "Lisa?! Lisa! Ben?! Ben!" He came out on the porch, dialing Lisa frantically. Just as he made the call, she and Ben came walking up. Dean hung up quickly. "Where the hell have you been?" he demanded. "We- we were at the movies. You knew that," Lisa replied. That's right. He forgot he told her to make herself and Ben scarce. He stepped forward pulling her into a tight embrace. "Dean, ow," she said. "What happened?" Ben asked curiously.
"Go upstairs and pack a bag," Dean instructed, pulling back. "Where are we going?" Lisa asked. "I'm taking you to a friend's house. Go. It's okay. Go on up. I'll be there in a sec." Neither Lisa or Ben moved, staring wide eyed at something behind him. "What the hell?" Lisa asked. "Um…" Ben looked up at his mom. "Oh, my God," she breathed. "Lisa, Ben, I don't know if you remember-" Dean began. "Sam," Lisa finished.
After they were packed, Sam followed Dean, Lisa and Ben in his car to Bobby's house. "Damn it," Bobby swore when he opened the door. "It's good to see you too, Bobby," Dean answered sarcastically. "It's been a while." Bobby frowned, "If you're here, then something's wrong."
"Bobby, this is Lisa and Ben," Dean introduced them. "Hi," Lisa said. "Well, it's nice to finally meet you two. Mi casa es su casa. Maybe you just want to go upstairs. TV's broken, but there's plenty of Reader's Digest. Just don't touch the decor, okay? Assume it's all loaded." Lisa retreated up the stairs with Ben. "So…" Dean began. "Hey, Bobby," Sam said, coming inside. "Sam," Bobby returned, averting his gaze. Dean narrowed his eyes. "You knew? You knew Sam was alive?"
"Yeah," Bobby nodded, avoiding looking at him. "How long?" he demanded. "Look-" Bobby began. "How long?!" he yelled. "All year." Dean couldn't believe it. "Oh, you gotta be kidding me." Bobby looked up abruptly, getting angry. "And I'd do it again," he said. "Why?!" Dean asked. "Because you got out, Dean! You walked away from the life. And I was so damn grateful, you got no idea."
"What, did y'all miss the memo about how screwed up I've been all year?! I showed up on their doorstep half out of my head with grief. God knows why they even let me in. I drank too much. I had nightmares. Mack friggin' RAN AWAY AND THERE'S BEEN NO SIGN OF HER FOR NEARLY EIGHT FREAKING MONTHS!" Sam and Bobby were quiet following the outburst. "She ran away?" Bobby asked softly. Dean's chest was screaming in pain, but he pressed on. "I looked for her for weeks. And then I came crawling back to that damn doorstep and Lisa did the unthinkable and let me in again despite the fact that I freakin' threatened her kid. And then I focused on collecting hundreds of books, searching for a way to bust you out."
"You promised you'd leave it alone," Sam said softly. "Of course I didn't leave it alone! Sue me! A damn year? You couldn't put me out of my misery?" Dean glared at his little brother. "Mack ran away?" Bobby asked again. "When?" It hurt him to answer. "September eighteenth. She took off in the middle of the night; no note, nothing. I don't… I can't…"
"Look," Bobby swallowed, "I… I get it wasn't easy. But that's life. And it's as close to happiness as I've ever seen a hunter get. It ain't like I wanted to lie to you, son. But you were out, Dean."
"Do I look out to you?" Lisa cleared her throat, standing at the top of the staircase. Dean looked up at her guiltily. How much had she heard? Bobby and Sam made themselves scarce and he headed up to meet her halfway on the stairs, sitting next to each other on the steps. "How's he doing?" he asked. "He's okay," Lisa replied. "How are you?" He couldn't answer that, so he dodged the question. "Look, I know Bobby's a little crotchety, but he's great. He's gonna look after you guys. Me and Sam, we're gonna head out."
"For how long?" Another question he didn't have an answer to. "I'm so sorry, Lisa," he whispered. "For what?" she questioned. "Those things were coming for me. I should've known." Lisa frowned, "How could you have known a monster would show up?" He shrugged, refusing to look at her. "I should've known. I should've known that if I stayed with you that something would come, because something always does. But I was stupid and reckless and… You can't outrun your past."
"You're saying goodbye," she realized. "I'm saying I'm sorry… For everything. Everything." He was startled as she suddenly got angry. "You're an idiot. I mean, I know it wasn't greeting-card perfect, but we were in it together." Dean frowned, feeling defensive, "I was a wreck half the time." Lisa glared, standing up and facing him. "Yeah, well, the guy who basically just saved the world shows up at your door, you expect him to have a couple issues. And you're always so amazing with Ben. You know what I wanted, more than anything was a guy Ben could look up to like a dad. So you're saying it's all bad, Dean? 'Cause it was the best year of my life."
Sam, Dean, and the Campbell gang headed back to the house in Cicero in order to hunt the djinn. Samuel and the others cleared out, leaving Sam and Dean alone. "You okay?" Sam asked. "Oh, yeah," Dean replied sarcastically. "Yeah," Sam echoed. "No, this is… This is crazy. I mean, you, Grandpa. Whoever brought you back…" Sam shrugged, "They don't want to be found." Dean nodded, "Yeah, I get that. But who are they, and what do they- what do they want? Why?"
"That's a good question," Sam agreed. Dean was quiet a moment, hesitant to ask his next question. "Do you remember it?" Sam blinked. "What?" Dean swallowed, "The cage." Understanding flashed briefly on Sam's face and then he went back to that weird, apathetic air he'd had since Dean first laid eyes on him. "Yeah," he answered. "You want to-" Sam cut him off, "No." Dean frowned, "Well if anyone can relate…"
"Dean, I don't want to talk about it. I'm back. I get to breathe fresh air, have a beer, hunt with my family, see you again. So why exactly would I want to think about Hell?" That nagging feeling in the back of his head was back. Sam didn't care about hunting like he kept talking about now. Sam was the one who always wanted out, who ran off to Stanford the first chance he got. Something was seriously wrong. Just then, as Dean looked out the window, he saw Sid and his wife being attacked by the djinn across the street. He rushed out without hesitation.
"Dean, they're dead already and you know it," Sam called after him. "This is happening because of me!" Dean yelled back, not slowing down. "Dean!" Dean ignored his brother, running into Sid's house. "Sid!" He dropped beside the dead body of one of the few people who had been a real friend to him, and was subsequently attacked by the djinn. "You made it through that last trip, so how about a big, fat double dose?" she asked him. "Bad news- it'll kill you. The good news? At least you'll go fast. That's for our father, you son of a bitch."
She touched his face, and he was swept up into a hallucination of Lisa and Ben. They were back home and Lisa was reassuring Ben. "I just- I-I couldn't sleep in that house. It's okay. Don't worry. We'll call Dean." Azazel came up beside Dean. "Ah, don't worry about them, Dean. Worry about me." Dean's eyes widened in fear. "No!" Azazel grabbed Ben, Lisa being dragged up the wall. "There, there, kiddo," Azazel told Ben. "You stay away from him! Lisa!" Dean cried.
Azazel used one of his nails to slit his wrist, holding it up to Ben's mouth. "Drink it," he commanded. "Ben, no!" Dean protested. "You'll feel better, " the demon told the boy. "No!" Dean yelled again as Ben began to drink. On the ceiling, Lisa was crying. "It's all your fault," Azazel looked directly at Dean. "Lisa!" he looked up at her. "Your fault. Can't stop it." Lisa screamed as she burned on the ceiling. "No!" Dean yelled. Suddenly, the vision faded and he was back in Sid's house, Sam standing over him with a needle- he'd given him the cure, but there hadn't been enough to save Sid and his wife.
Samuel and the others had vanished, and Sam was heading to meet them back at their place. Dean decided he was going to go back to get Lisa and Ben. He had pulled them into everything the second he knocked on their door, and now he felt like he was responsible for keeping them safe. He offered Sam the keys to the Impala, telling him to take her out hunting with him, but Sam said he liked his car. So, they parted ways, Sam promising to keep in touch.