I meant to put this in the last chapter, but I forgot.
So…it's been…5 years. Hi!
I've been bitten really hard by the 'mildly mentally stable creative expression' bug for the first time in ages and I finally connected the gap between where I stopped posting and the other parts I had pre-written.
I have a good few chapters ready to go, but to dish out some delayed gratification I am only going to post one chapter a week for now.
That being said – the previous chapter, this and the next one are not my best writing. These were the parts that got me stuck for 5 years (it's season 7, give me a break), so I kind of just powered through them. In spite of that, I hope you enjoy. Leave a comment if you are so inclined!
I want to say a huge thank you to everyone who came back to this fic after 5 years (yes I creep on the views, I see you amazing people!)
Chapter 25: Idjits
Andy watched as Dean punched the wall awfully close to the guy's head.
"Walk away from me," she heard him say quietly. "Now!" Not so quietly. Bobby was still alive, but they still didn't know if he would get into surgery. Andy could see that the boys were starting to fall apart at the seams. Truth was, she wasn't do all that well either. Bobby was something special. To all of them. He had been special to Dyson. She couldn't help the memories flooding through her. Of Dyson making his jewelry in Bobby's basement. He and Bobby talking business. Bobby, kneeling next to Dyson's body, tears in his eyes. She took a deep breath and went over to Dean and put a hand on his arm. He flinched. When he saw it was her, he relaxed a little. "I'm sorry."
"I know."
"I need some air." Dean said. He gave Andy's hand a squeeze and walked away. She went to find Sam. He was leaning against the wall watching Bobby. She went over and stood next to him. he glanced at her. His eyes were hollow and lost. She didn't say anything, and neither did he. She put her hand on his and left it there.
"Dean, can I talk to you?" Sam said as he moved away from an arguing couple. Dean followed him. Andy let them have a moment, but she could still hear them.
"What? Talk about what?"
"You know what." Dean stared at his brother, then shook his head.
"No, we're not going to have that conversation."
"We need to-"
"He's not going to die,"
"He might. We need to brace ourselves."
"Why?"
"Because it's real Dean."
"What do you want to do? You want to hug and say we made it through it when Dad died. We've been through enough." Dean walked away, pausing for a moment to look back at his brother. His thin wall was crumbling. That was plain enough to see. Andy knew better than to go after him right away. She watched Sam sink into a chair. She watched him rub his thumb into the scar on his hand, hard. That's not a good sign.
A few hours later, they were preparing Bobby for surgery. They were all in there with him just before they wheeled him out. Suddenly, his eyes were open. He tried to speak but couldn't. Dean thought fast and found him a pen. Slowly, Bobby wrote five numbers on Sam's palm. He looked at his boys and his girl. He gave them a smile.
"Idjits." And Bobby Singer closed his eyes forever.
The first week was grey. Nothing but a sea of dullness that none of them could break through. The second week was numbers. Five digits that were supposed to mean something. Dean was angry and distant, and Andy couldn't reach him. Not to say that she was doing much better. She folded into herself. She felt shattered. Pieces of her were breaking off every other moment. She was done with losing people, and as much as she was breaking apart, she could see that her boys were as well. Sam was having moments staring off into space, rubbing the scar on his hand more and more often. Dean wasn't sleeping well, and he was drinking like it was going out of style. He was collecting anything he could about Dick Roman. The third week was obsession. Dean was laser focused on everything Dick. He sent the numbers to Frank Devereaux to work with and make any connection to Dick. When Bobby's old phone rang, Sam picked it up. An old hunting acquaintance was missing, and his daughter was looking for help finding him. Sam wanted them all to go, but Dean was too focused and wanted to wait to hear from Frank and maybe put a little pressure on him. Andy agreed to go with Sam, and they left Dean to his own devices.
The hunt did not go very well. Sam got taken by what turned out to be a pair of Vetala's and it was a whole shitshow. But they all made it out alive with two dead monsters. In the car driving back Andy caught Dean's eye in the rear view. A small smile nearly reached his eyes, a moment later a flash of pure grief crosses them, and Andy's heart broke. She reached out and put a hand on the back of his neck. Trying to give him what ever small comfort she could.
"Dean?" she asked softly. Dean shook his head. He either wouldn't or couldn't talk to her about it. Not yet. "I know it doesn't sound like much, but we will get there. We will get through this, and we'll figure out what the hell Dick Roman is doing. I know it." She said it with a finality that she didn't entirely understand. She had not had any vision flashes for a long time, but something told her that they would eventually get through it.
They worked their way through a few jobs waiting for Frank again. One that had them dealing with Chronos, a freaking time god. Sam was a wreck through most of it, but it was great to see Jody again. Andy managed to hold her panic in check. They managed to get Dean back, due to his own brilliance communicating through time with scratches on a base board. Another case had them figuring out that a person they had exorcized a demon from previously, actually wanted it back. It took a while to figure things out and in the process, Dean got a couple of new scars. Andy noticed that Sam seemed a bit off after that case. He was a bit jumpy and was drinking caffeine at an alarming rate. That was when he came clean that Lucifer wasn't letting him sleep and his usual safeguards were not working to send him packing. After dealing with some cursed items, it was time to check in with Frank again. Dean tried to convince Sam to sleep the whole way there, but looking at him critically, Andy could see that this was not something Sam thought he would be able to do. They made it to Frank late that same night. When they rolled up, all three of them were surprised to hear "Bad Moon Rising" streaming out of the trailer. Banging on the door didn't bring Frank out with his usual raised and cocked gun, so Dean called out and they stepped inside. They were met with smashed equipment and blood smears everywhere. Seeing his trailer torn apart and blood everywhere, they feared the worst.
Two nights after finding Frank's trailer torn up, they settled into a shitty motel to lay low for a while. They were all exhausted, but Andy noticed Sam looked particularly worn. She made a mental note to keep an eye on him over the next few days. Dean collapsed onto the bed and dragged a hand down his face.
"Anyone hungry?" Andy asked trying to find something to do to help her boys.
"I'm ok," Sam answered distractedly. Dean glanced at him, sizing him up.
"We could probably all use the fuel, but I really need a shower," Dean said. Andy chuckled and nodded.
"That would be correct, I love you, but you stink right now," she replied. Dean rolled his eyes at her with a small smile. The first genuine one she had seen on his face in weeks. "How about I go get us some sustenance and you two relax a bit and get cleaned up." Dean tossed her the keys, and she left. It was while she was driving back, that a flash of vision hit her. Sam, in white pajamas, looking like death. Sam in a circle of salt in a psych wardroom and a young woman. Dean's face with a look of shock and sadness looking up at someone. The vision let her go and she slammed on the breaks just short of blasting through a stop sign. There was no way to tell what time the vision showed. It could be a few hours, days, or weeks into the future. Thinking back on the last time she took a good look at Sam, Andy thought he didn't quite look as haggard now as he did in her vision, but it was possible that there wasn't much time between now and when the vision takes place. Andy rushed back to the motel with the food. Sam was on his laptop, and Dean was lounging on the bed watching some show. Andy dealt out the food while taking in Sam. He didn't look great. She kicked herself for not noticing sooner.
"Sam," Andy started quietly "tell me truthfully, are you okay?" Sam looked up at her, his eyes were tight with exhaustion, and he sighed deeply before speaking.
"No, I'm really not ok Andy. But there's nothing you can do about it, so there's really no use worrying about it. I'll figure it out," Sam answered. Andy sighed as well.
"Just remember you don't have to figure it out alone," she said carefully. Sam glanced at his brother. He knew Dean was worrying, and he knew that everything Dean suggested was meant with a good heart, but he was so done with the pep talks. He just wanted to sleep, and Lucifer was not letting it happen. The worst part was it wasn't even really Lucifer, just a conjured mash up of a memory and his own brain working against him.
They tried to knock Sam out with a bit of a beer fest – but despite Andy's effort to drink a bit less than the boys so she could stay awake and keep an eye on Sam, she ended up passing out too. Dean's phone ringing at 7:30 in the morning woke them both.
"He what?!" Dean shouted, "alright I'll be right there."
"What's happening? Is Sam, ok?"
"He got hit by a fucking car, he's at the hospital," Dean said as he was shoving his feet into his boots while also trying to find his keys.
"Shit," Andy sighed, "this is not going to be fun."
Dean was irate when the hospital staff wouldn't immediately let him see Sam. Turns out, Sam had been checked into the locked psych ward, just like Andy had seen. He was not doing well. Even pumped full of sedatives he was still awake. When Dean got back to Andy after finally seeing Sam, he was quiet, frustrated, and scared. Not that he would have admitted it, but Andy could tell.
"What's the plan babe?"
"We're going to go back to Whitefish and make some calls. There has to be someone, or something, that can help him," Dean said with a catch in his voice. Andy just nodded and followed him to the car.
They spent the next day and a half calling every contact in Bobby and Andy's hunting journal. No one had any ideas, leads, or suggestions. Dean had made it through the whole list and went to get himself a beer from the fridge. Andy also got up from where she had been sitting and started to slowly pace, trying to think of someone else to call. They both jumped when Bobby's journal hit the floor. Dean strode over and picked it up. A card had fallen out. It had a number on it. Dean looked at Andy, who shrugged – worth a try. Dean called and left a message. Later that night Mackey called him back and they were off to Colorado to meet Emmanuel.
The drive was mostly quiet. Andy was concerned and feeling defeated. Her ability to heal was not something that could heal the mind, or the soul and it made her feel utterly useless in this situation. In spite of her efforts to hold them back, tears started slowly falling.
"Andy, you, ok?" Dean's voice startled her, and she glanced over. He was stealing quick looks at her with a mix of concern and reflected helplessness. Andy shook her head. Dean took one hand off the wheel and held it out to her. She hesitated for a moment, and Dean reached out to her. She gave him her hand, and he pulled her towards him. Andy gave in and slid across the bench to nestle herself into Dean's side. He held her close as she cried silently. She felt a few spots land on her hand, and she could tell Dean's eyes were not dry either.
It was early afternoon when they made it to the address Mackey had given them. A guy opened the door when Dean knocked. Something felt slightly off about him to Andy, but she shook it off. A moment later her suspicions were confirmed when Dean saw a woman in the front window tied to a chair. The man's eye went black, and he attacked Dean. A quick struggle went on and Dean stabbed him with the knife. Andy watched the body fall down the stairs to the feet of another man. Another man that looked exactly like Castiel.
Andy stared. The she looked up at Dean, who was also starring. Emmanuel ran up the stairs quickly and through the door. Dean and Andy looked at each other eyes wide, and then followed the man inside. It was immediately clear that Emmanuelle had no idea who he was, but some how, Dean convinced him to come to Indiana to help Sam.
There was a fair amount of tension in the car, but Emmanuelle tried to make conversation. He was just as socially awkward as Cas and Dean was straining to talk to Cas like Cas. But he kept it together. He did admit some complex emotions he was feeling in relation to his 'friend' Cas who was gone. Emmanuel then made some potent observations that Andy had to chuckle at, which earned her a withering look from Dean. They stopped for gas in some tiny town. While Dean went into the shop to get snacks, Andy went to the washroom. Just as she was heading back, she saw a woman walking into the store. Andy wandered towards the door, when she heads a few distinct crashes. She carefully, but quickly, ran to the door. She glanced in and just managed to see Dean on the ground and a dark-haired woman stabbing a guy in the back who flickered with orange demon light. Who the hell is this? Andy thought, then she heard Dean.
"Meg?"
"What's poor dead Castiel doing here Dean?" Meg said pointedly. Andy stepped inside and helped Dean up.
"Well, if it isn't Lucy's little prophet girl. Thought you would be long dead."
"Meg, never nice to see you again," Andy said with a grimace. Deans lead them both out of the store and back over to Emmanuel. Emmanuel was afraid of Meg, as he could see her true face, but once again, Dean convinced him that everything was ok, and Meg was a…sort of friend. They all continued on to the hospital. Andy was not a fan of the idea of riding in the back of the impala with Meg. They had never been on good terms, and she reminded Andy of Ellen and Jo. But they made it to the hospital which was surrounded by demons. Emmanuel was starting to put the pieces together.
"Am…am I Cas?" he asked earnestly. Dean gave him a careful look and nodded.
"I don't know how to be him…I – "
"Why don't you just try. It might come back to you," Meg said with some urgency. Cas was hesitant, but tried it, and started killing demons and remembered everything.
Before taking him to Sam, Dean wordlessly presented Cas with his old trench coat and Cas carefully put it on. Then they took him to Sam. Cas touched him and concentrated for a long time. Then he looked sadly at Dean.
"I'm sorry Dean, I can't help him."
"What do you mean can't?"
"In order to heal his mind, I need something to build on, there is nothing there to reconstruct," Cas said. Dean looked lost. Cas muttered something – 'can shift it' was all Andy heard, and Cas had a hand on Sam's head again. Red angry light passed from Sam to Cas. Sam gasped and finally looked lucid while Cas cowered on the bed.
"I don't like this idea Dean," Andy said gruffly. She looked back at where the had just left Cas, in the care of a hospital with only Meg to watch out for him. As much as Andy still had some complex feelings about how Cas had betrayed her, he had paid a lot for that mistake, and now he was doing something even more. The next couple of weeks were fairly quiet. They checked up on as many things Dick Roman they could and rested a bit back at the cabin in Whitefish. The Garth called asking for help on a case in Junction City. They dealt with the Shojo, self moving swords aside, they had a hard time with it. Garth's idea about maybe Bobby was still around, and Dean admitting he's been noticing some weird activity around Bobby's old flask that he has been carrying around, made Andy wonder if the old hunter would have chosen to stay. They were just leaving the motel after saying goodbye to Garth that Dean turned back to the room. Andy paused to wait for him. He came back out with the flask in hand, holding it up to indicate he nearly forgot it. As the door swung to Andy swore, she heard a quite word in a low gravely voice.
"Ya' Idgits…"