AN: For disclaimer, please see chapter 1.
Wishing a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to all. This is the final chapter for this one but many more stories in the works (some brotherhood AU and some from my Shadows series 😊)
Forever gratitude to the amazing Meilean (do read her stories 😊) and Churchlady63. Thank you for putting up with me, reading (and rereading as I obsessively tweak) and providing such thoughtful feedback and suggestions.
Part 6: A Way of Saying Bye or Peace
The slang term "deuces" is a way of saying goodbye or farewell,
Based on holding up two fingers symbolising "peace"
similar to saying "peace out" or "later" in a casual or informal setting.
The first thing Dean knew when he opened his eyes was a painful pounding in his head. The second was that his best friend was slumped over beside him, his head on the mattress by Dean's hand. Caleb had obviously been sitting a bedside vigil and fallen asleep. Dean poked him.
"Uh, Deuce," Caleb mumbled against the prodding finger. "It's too early for peek-a-boo, go back to sleep."
"I didn't know I starred in any of your fantasy dreams, Damien, and I kinda wish I still didn't know but whatever," Dean said.
Caleb popped up like a jack-in-the-box.
"Deuce?"
"Yeah, who were you expecting? And I hope that wasn't a disturbing euphemism for something kinky. If your boo starts peeking, I'm out of here."
"Disturbing? Yes. Kinky? No. How are you feeling?"
"My head hurts," Dean said, raising a hand to his thumping temple. "Did you get it?"
Esme had warned them that Dean might not remember anything nor realise how much time had passed. For him, they had just been fighting the djinnaiad when he was knocked out.
"Yeah, I got it," Caleb leaned forwards, resting his elbows on his knees.
"Are you okay?" Dean squinted at him, picking up on something in his face.
"I'm not the one that fell afoul of the wishbitch."
"What can I say? Chicks always dig me more than you," Dean grinned at him.
"Only the psycho ones," Caleb grinned back.
Dean rested his head back on the pillow, obviously in some pain. Caleb frowned as Dean winced and explored the back of his head. The injury had been days ago but it seemed reversing the spell had returned Dean to the point when the spell took effect. For Dean physically as well as mentally, it was immediately after the hunt and he was still injured.
"I'm fine." Dean pre-empted Caleb's worried expression.
"Yeah, I've heard that before," Caleb said dismissively. "I'll get Mac."
"Mac's here?" Dean said, disoriented.
"Yeah, and you know he'll disown me if I deprive him of a chance to use the torture device."
Caleb stood but paused looking down at Dean.
"Seriously, dude, what's going on?" Dean asked.
"Nothing, you just … gave me a bit of a scare, that's all."
"You worry too much, Reava."
"I really don't," Caleb said seriously. "Given how much of a trouble magnet you are, not nearly enough."
"Okay, you're freaking me out now. What the hell happened? My head feels double the size, but it's not, right?"
His eyes drifted as if looking for a mirror. Suddenly he sat bolt upright, looking around. A hand came up to steady his dizzy head as he squinted against the pain.
"And how did we get to the farm?" he asked, taking in the familiar room. He was not where he had expected to be.
"Me and Johnny brought you here after the hunt."
"Dad?" Dean became more alert. "Is he pissed?"
"Well we all know Johnny's idea of an early wake-up call doesn't include coffee and donuts but he'll be fine now that you are."
"How long was I out?"
"Dean, my boy, it's good to see you," Jim said, entering the room.
"Is Mac up?" Caleb asked. "Dean's got a concussion."
"I've got a headache, that's all," Dean protested, pushing himself up again.
"How's your vision?" Mac asked, entering the small bedroom behind Jim, medical bag already in hand.
"Well I'm seeing three people rather than the one I expected," Dean grumbled. "And none of them seem to have coffee." Between not knowing what had gone on and the number of people in the room he was starting to feel uneasy. John entered behind Mac, and Dean sat up more but pushed himself back against the wall, looking around at them all.
"I'll go start the coffee," Caleb said, getting up and moving back. He didn't really want to leave Dean, had refused to move from his bedside all night, but he was picking up on the feeling of claustrophobia. Dean never did like being crowded.
Jim must have picked up on it too. He smiled at Caleb.
"It feels like a pancake morning to me, if young Caleb wouldn't mind collecting some fresh eggs from the coop?"
"Young," Dean scoffed. "I've already got a zimmer frame on order for his next birthday."
"Like you'd spend that much on a gift," Caleb snorted back.
"And if that is what you have planned for Caleb, I dread to think what you have planned for me," Jim smiled.
"Mac, check that the babbling is just his usual nonsense and not anything serious," John interrupted. Then he turned to Caleb and added, "I'll make the coffee, while you get the eggs, I'm not drinking the rat's piss you make."
"Just because you can fit that volume of grounds into the machine, does not mean you should," Caleb replied.
Dean relaxed a little as the three left, still discussing the appropriate strength to make coffee. The banter helping as much as the space. Mac perched on the side of the mattress.
"How are you feeling?" The doctor asked, pulling out his penlight.
Dean eyed it trepidly. "Like something is being kept from me." He leant back away as Mac lifted the light towards his eyes.
"It's Thursday," Mac said.
Dean's eyes widened in shock and Mac took advantage, leaning in with the light.
"Hey, that's cheating," Dean grumbled, wincing against the glare. Holding out a thumb, then his fingers in turn, he counted the days he'd lost, while Mac completed the tortuous check of his pupillary responses. Once his head was released, he looked down at his hand then back at Mac.
"This is one of those times I wish I was seeing double," he said, wiggling his fingers at the doctor. "Since I'm here and not in a hospital, I'm guessing whatever it was wasn't civilian friendly."
Mac smiled gently. "Medically speaking, you were fine, better than now given you seem to have a concussion. In fact, I wouldn't rule out a trip to the hospital."
"You sure know how to kick a guy when he's down." Dean made his best attempt at puppy eyes, feeling a pang in the knowledge he'd never really mastered that the way his brother had. Even so, Mac's face seemed to soften. It made Dean even more uncomfortably suspicious.
"If Mac says you need the hospital, you need the hospital," John said sternly, coming back into the room carrying a cup of coffee.
Dean smiled. That was a normal reaction. It was comforting.
"Actually, Dad, what Mac said was, I may need the hospital, and I know how you always say we shouldn't act on vague intel."
John shook his head with a wry smile. "Perhaps you should have remembered that, before you and your buddy decided to head out after the djinnaiad against orders."
"It was just supposed to be recon. We thought we could rule out some areas we didn't think she was in." Dean reached for the coffee cup John was holding.
"Well clearly you thought wrong." John pulled the cup closer to himself, making it clear it was his and not for Dean.
Dean kept his mask in place. He and Caleb had hoped to narrow down the area so that when they went out with John the following night it wouldn't take long to find the djinnaiad. Meaning they had a chance of getting back in time to make the special burlesque show they'd heard about taking place in an underground bar.
John's expression suggested he had some idea that Dean and Caleb had been trying to squeeze in some sort of shenanigans, even if he didn't know exactly what they had planned.
"What happened?" Dean switched to concern as he registered the cut down John's face and the way John adjusted his balance to keep the weight off his injured leg. "Damien said he got the djinnaiad," Dean frowned. Had he got his dad hurt by letting himself be taken out by the thing? Caleb had seemed worried but not hurt. Was there more that had happened?
"Relax Deuce," Caleb entered, holding out a coffee cup for Dean. "Johnny's not two, he can manage a scraped knee and a booboo. Mac kissed it better for him." He grinned wickedly.
Dean took the coffee gratefully but narrowed his eyes at the obvious reference to a joke he wasn't getting.
"Dad?"
"Mac and I worked a quick job earlier in the week, nothing to write home about."
"Sorry," Dean said to Mac, automatically. He'd been under some sort of spell and his dad had left him at Jim's to go on another job? Well, that wasn't completely out of character but Mac going on a hunt as well was. Maybe it was because Dean wasn't available to be backup.
Mac looked confused by the apology, John disgruntled.
Caleb rolled his eyes. "Ok, let's get this over with. Deuce, you were two. Like toddler, drool, diapers, the lot. Mac traded sexual favours for a spell but it needed specific ingredients. He and Johnny went on a hunt to get what we needed for the cure. Cure found, spell cast, and hey presto, you're you again. So now I can beat the crap out of you for being an absolute brat."
John and Mac seemed to be struggling with this version of events but Dean didn't miss a beat.
"Mac traded sexual favours for me? I've always said he likes me more than you," Dean grinned cheekily. Caleb laughed. He knew it was a front and that Dean was freaked. But he had the information now. He'd process it, then bury the whole thing along with so many other things they'd been through. In the meantime, inappropriate humour was their default setting.
"Speaking of beating the crap out of someone for being an absolute brat," John gave Caleb a level gaze. "You and I have a conversation to finish."
Dean pushed himself up in the bed as if about to stand. Mac steadied him when his colour dropped and his eyes went unfocused.
"You will keep it to the kitchen where Jim can supervise," Mackland ordered. Neither Caleb nor John looked particularly happy about this but they each glanced at Dean before nodding and heading out the room. Mac wasn't sure whether they'd actually do as he asked or were just humouring Dean, who had watched them leave with a worried expression and was now looking pleadingly at him.
"It's the same argument they've been having for over a decade now, I doubt this time will be any worse," he reassured the young man.
"Or change anything," Dean pointed out. It always brought him such mixed feelings. There was something touching that they both cared enough to fight as vehemently as they did regarding him, yet it made him feel guilty too. Like he had done something he shouldn't or not done something he should and the result was them worrying and upset. At least when Dad used to fight with Sammy it had almost nothing to do with him at all, even if he felt like it was his job to fix it.
"You know," Mac said. He had been watching Dean closely, maybe even picking up on his emotions. "Your father believes it was a wish that you were lighter which resulted in the spell presenting as it did."
"Are you saying I need to lose weight?" Dean gave the doctor a mock-offended frown.
"Actually, yes," Mac smiled. "But not physically." Dean gave Mac one of his carefully cultivated blank looks. The one he used when he wanted to pretend he had no idea what someone was talking about.
"You carry too much responsibility," Mac said plainly.
Dean scoffed. "Hardly, I'm like the least responsible person I know, except maybe Damien."
Mac ignored the attempts at humour and redirection. "There was a time I held Caleb's life in my hands, just as surely as I do a patient on my operating table, but he is a grown man now, a good man." Caleb may have come to Mac as a teenager, but in those early years Mac had known his actions and reactions could be the difference between two very different outcomes for his son.
"He's not so bad, I guess," Dean shrugged then slipped Mac a cheeky grin.
Mac smiled back but cut Dean off before he could divert the conversation with further banter.
"His choices are his own. While I may celebrate the good ones with him, commiserate the poor ones, they are his."
Dean opened his mouth and Mac knew there would be a further attempt to divert the conversation, probably with some anecdote of a poor choice Caleb had made but he refused to allow the interruption.
"Just as your father's choices are his own and Samuel's choices are his own. You cannot keep carrying the weight of other people's choices. You are not responsible to your brother for your father's choices, nor are you responsible to your father for your brother's choices."
For a moment there was something betrayed in the look Dean gave him but then the veil lifted from Dean's eyes and his vulnerability shone through. It was rare and Mac felt the responsibility that came with the trust it represented. He took a breath and continued.
"Unless I'm very much mistaken, your father is currently downstairs telling Caleb that you cannot move in with him."
"You think?" Dean said sarcastically. He'd known, from the moment Caleb made the offer, what his dad's response would be.
"But whether you do or not, is not his choice, it is yours. Whatever you decide, I will support you, in whatever way is necessary." Dean understood Mac meant he'd help Caleb understand, should the decision not go the psychic's way, just as much as he meant he'd try to reason with the unreasonable Knight if Dean decided to move to New York.
Dean knew he'd not been at his best since Sammy left, that he'd taken more risks, and bled more as a consequence of that. He also knew this had caused Caleb's protective hackles to raise and that the offer to move to New York was somewhat motivated by concern.
It was not the only reason, Dean already had a key and his own room at Caleb's. But the push for him to spend more time there was his friend's attempt to look out for him. It wasn't so much that Dean wanted to be with his father more. Dad was gone as much as he was about anyway. But Dean needed to keep busy, needed to keep hunting. The idea of down time, for more than the odd night of blowing off steam, was terrifying. Sam had been his purpose for so long. Without hunting now, he'd be completely adrift.
They heard the voices downstairs getting louder and both looked that way.
SPNBROAU
When John and Caleb entered the kitchen, Jim was not there. The pancake batter was mixed and in a bowl by the stove but the Pastor was not in sight. Seeming satisfied with the location, John turned on Caleb. "Dean's not moving in with you."
Caleb blinked. For a moment his mind was on his plan to take the two-year-old Dean back to his apartment, then he remembered that he had let slip his offer for the grown Dean to move in with him in front of John. Outrage flared inside him. "That's not your decision."
"The hell it isn't." John's volume was already notching up.
Caleb matched him. "He's a grown man."
A bitter smirk crossed John's face. "Who doesn't need his nanny anymore."
"Dammit John, he deserves a life!" Caleb got closer to his mentor.
"And that is exactly what I am trying to make sure he has!" John shoved him back.
"Or maybe you're just worried that he'll realise he doesn't need you." Caleb pushed in again, encroaching on John's space, getting in his face. "That he's better off –"
In an ungainly spin, there was a house-rattling thud. Caleb was thrust against the wall of the kitchen, John's fists in his shirt. A picture further along the same wall fell to the floor with a crash, the glass from the frame shattering across the floor. An involuntary grunt escaped Caleb and he glared at the furious Knight.
"Better off without me? Is that what you were going to say?" John's face was inches from Caleb's.
It wasn't the first time John had lashed out like this and Caleb doubted it would be the last. His back felt bruised from the impact and a sharp flash of pain had shot through his head. Still, he would not back down.
His own hands gripped John's, fighting back against the restraint.
"He'll be better off not following you around week after week, never knowing what days you'll show and what days you'll ditch him." Caleb swept his arms inside of John, removing the hold for a split second before John countered and pinned him again. Caleb's lip curled at the satisfied look in John's eye. "He'll be better off having his own life rather than being an occasional accessory to yours!"
John's face was flushed with anger, his fists tightened in Caleb's shirt and he banged him against the wall again.
"Problem?" Came the mild voice of Pastor Jim. If he didn't know better, Caleb would think Jim had found them struggling with the zipper on a bag rather than about to turn his kitchen into collateral damage from a brawl. Caleb and John both froze. The heat of the moment cooled by Jim's calm serenity.
"No problem," John said, regrouping and forcing himself to match the calm tone. His eyes were still flashing but he loosened his grip slightly. "Just reminding Junior of the chain of command."
Caleb took advantage of the loosened grip to shove John off of him.
"An important thing to remember," Jim said. His voice was still mild but there was power behind it and both men got the message. The tension dropped from their shoulders.
There was the loud staggered thudding of someone losing their footing on the stairs and coming down a little too quickly. A worried call of 'Dean' accompanied it. They half expected a crash at the bottom but then Dean appeared in the doorway, bracing himself on the frame. He was a little pale and sweaty but upright. Mac appeared behind him, exasperation and concern warring for dominance. Dean's eyes swept the room, taking in his dad, Caleb, and then Jim. Then they fell on the smashed picture frame on the floor.
He staggered over to it and knelt down amid the broken glass. Irritated, he shoved aside the remains of the frame to pick up the slightly faded sheet of paper from within the wreckage, wincing as a jagged bit of glass dug into his hand.
Both John and Caleb started towards him but Mackland cut them off with a glance that managed to say both 'you've done enough' and 'I'm the doctor here' in less than a second.
Mindless of the shard of glass still stuck in the side of one of his hands, Dean used the other to carefully brush the smaller dust-like bits from the picture.
It was far from a work of art. The spindly figures were barely recognisable as human, let alone the people they represented. But it was the carefully printed letters at the bottom that Dean let his fingers linger on. My Family by Sam Winchester.
Jim crouched beside Dean and carefully took the picture so Mac could inspect the hand that was now dripping blood on the floor.
"I think I have another frame that will do much better than the old one." Jim kept his eyes on the picture. "Sometimes a change of setting can give a whole new perspective." He glanced up at Caleb and John. "Of course, one generally prefers that change to be optional and not forced on them."
John and Caleb gave twin eye-rolls and Mac quickly turned his face from them to hide his smirk.
"I don't think this needs stitches." He carefully removed the shard from the fleshy part of Dean's hand. Once it was out, Dean went to pull his hand back but Mac kept hold. "Someone get me an antiseptic wipe and small bandage so Dean doesn't leave blood smears everywhere." It wouldn't be the first time.
"And so that Damien doesn't faint," Dean grinned. To be fair Caleb was looking a little peaky. He'd seen much, much worse, but even small amounts of Dean's blood seemed to make him feel sick.
John ordered Caleb to fetch the requested supplies with nothing more than a look. Caleb rolled his eyes again but went. He was long familiar with the chain of command. John knelt to start gathering the larger pieces of glass from the floor.
Mac took Dean to the living room, where Caleb joined them. Jim stayed with John.
They both looked at the picture in Jim's hand.
Largest and most prominent was the 'Dean' figure, beside him was John, then Caleb, then Jim and Mac. Each figure had extra lines and blobs of colour that none of them had ever satisfactorily deciphered. Though they'd had a lot of fun over the years positing what they might be. John was looking sadly at the large Dean and the smaller John in the picture.
"Samuel is far from the only person in that picture to be a little blinkered at times. At that time, he could only see Dean, his Captain Onehelluva Big Brother who was always with him. Right now, he can only see the life he wants and is terrified he'll never get. But it never was, and never will be, the full picture. When he takes a step back, he will see that." John himself could be the most blinkered of all of them but they were all guilty of it at times. When he thought Dean was at risk, Caleb ran a close second to John.
"And me?" John asked, knowing that Sam's 'blinkers' were not what the Pastor wanted to address.
"It is important to prepare and train the next generation, be they our children or our successors. But it is not the only important thing. This fight is not the only important thing. What we are fighting for is important too."
"You think I don't know that? But he –" John pointed towards the living room and lowered his voice.
"Do you know what decides a Guardian?" Jim asked, seemingly at a tangent.
"Yeah, yeah, hearts and flowers," John grumbled. He'd never much liked the description of the Guardian as the heart of the order. To him hearts were vulnerable, all blood and pain and breakable. Certainly not what he wanted for his son.
Jim shook his head. "Sacrifice. It is what a person is prepared to give, to give up, that makes them Guardian worthy."
"So?" John knew there was a point and didn't feel inclined to work it out for himself.
"It is not your choices that will determine his worth, nor is it mine. It is his. He must be allowed to make them."
"Do you think him living it up in a New York brownstone is going to make him ready, let alone keep him safe?" John hissed in challenge.
"Do you think that is what he will choose?" Jim challenged back. Then with a final chiding glance he went to check on the others.
SPNBROAU
"So how bad was it?" Dean asked.
They were near the pond, or as near as Caleb ever got voluntarily, Dean had been cleared by Mac after a run to the clinic and decided he needed some air, or at least some space from all the attention he seemed to be getting. But it seemed Caleb was still not ready to let him out of his sight.
"Why do you automatically assume it was bad?"
Dean knew Caleb was being nice so he'd know there were no bad feelings about Dean's choice not to move to New York but he'd prefer their usual banter. "Remember the time Sammy stuck a marble up his nose?" he accused.
Caleb gave Dean a guilty side-glance, he'd been pretty sure it had been something he'd said that prompted the then two-year-old Sam to do that.
"That kid was always up to something, you can't put that on me. What about the time he decided to streak through Pastor Jim's Remembrance Sunday Service?" Caleb snorted, that one had been all Deuce.
After removing Sam's wet diaper, the runt had refused to lay down to have a new one put on, insisting instead that he show his big brother his dance moves. An irritated Dean had suggested he go and show Dad and Pastor Jim instead. So Sammy had run off to do just that before Dean could stop him. Standing front and centre in Jim's church, mid-sermon, bopping for all he was worth in his birthday suit, and yelling 'Look Pastor Jim, look.' Luckily, the pastor had just been rehearsing, his congregation were not present, though that was not the version of events they'd been known to tease the runt with over the years.
"I promise," Caleb said to the now nervous hunter beside him. "No marbles and no public nudity."
Dean's wide vulnerable eyes inspected him, checking for truth and seeking reassurance.
"You never left the farm after we got here. I wanted to take you out trawling for chicks but Johnny wouldn't let me," he added with a roguish grin.
Dean's gaze turned questioning but he did look less upset.
"Kids, dude!" Caleb explained. "Total chick bait."
"And what were you going to do with me if you'd scored?" Dean challenged.
"Leave the car window cracked?" Caleb shrugged and Dean punched him on the arm.
"Hey, you were the one that got up-close and personal with Marybeth."
"Marybeth?" Dean asked, holding his cupped hands out in front of his chest.
"Yeah, you full on –" Caleb shook his head from side to side with loose cheeks making a burr-burr-burr-burr sound to indicate motorboating a woman's breasts.
Dean grinned. "That doesn't sound so bad."
"Well, it's a good news - bad news sort of deal."
"And the bad news?"
"She thinks you are your own illegitimate son."
"What?"
"We could hardly tell her the truth," Caleb shrugged.
"So you told her –"
"No, she saw the cow-eyes and the goofy face and drew her own conclusions."
"Yeah, I guess I am too gorgeous to be yours," Dean grinned, "plus of course, no tail, no horns, - ouch!" Caleb had thumped him on the arm but Dean carried on. "Dad and Jim are both out. So the only other option would be if your dad and Josh's mum had a love child."
"That is not funny," Caleb said.
"I mean, I do have Mac's suave sophistication."
"You wish."
"And she's supposed to be quite the looker, isn't - hey," there was a scuffle but Dean was unable to prevent Caleb trapping his head under an arm.
"She makes Joshs, remember?" Caleb retaliated, getting in a blow to Dean's ribs.
They remained locked, turning in combat as Dean fought to get free and Caleb fought to keep him pinned.
"Fine, Josh's only potential brother is you," Dean 'conceded' cheekily, landing a sharp jab to Caleb's kidney.
"Right, that's it," Caleb spun them, trying to bring Dean down.
Back on the porch, John watched the two young men struggling by the water. Mac moved beside him.
"Should I ask?" Mac said.
"I generally find it is better not to."
"Should we do something?"
"Nope." John sipped his coffee.
"They are pretty close to the water."
"Yep."
A moment later there was a splash as both young men toppled off the end of the jetty.
"It's difficult to see them as grown men sometimes," Jim said, joining John and Mac.
John snorted. "Have you met them? Grown? Maybe. Men? Maybe in a few more decades."
The End
AN: Well, that's all folks – for this story 😊 (more in the works).
I do confess there was a part of my muse tempted not to fix Dean at all and she ran off down a whole 'nother path - but I had to rein her in. Maybe I'll write a few little snippets from that route some time (Aunty Cleb takes little Deuce to Stanford to visit Sammy) – will see. So many WIPs that annoying things like work and life keep me from.
Thank you so much for reading, I really hope you enjoyed it. Please do leave a review and let me know what you thought. A special thanks to those who have done so, it really does mean so much to hear from you. 😚
I hope you are all well. Sending much love and hugs to all.
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