Set during 5.07: The Curious Case of Dean Winchester.
78: Young and Carefree
"Jane is going to kill you."
"Old age is going to kill me!"
Sam could only stare at his brother, kind of feeling bad that he had already called Jane. Jane hadn't been on the road since that night in August and it was November now. She had pleaded to be allowed to return but Dean had insisted she stay behind, keep on with the hunt for the Colt, and out of the mess that was now their world. Considering they had met the antichrist not too long ago, Sam was inclined to think Dean might have made a smart call. At least until Bobby.
They were investigating a card player of all things, and apparently Bobby had gotten wind of the magical aspect of either winning or losing years of life because the old man had been there. Playing, and losing. Sam had called Jane, wondering how Bobby had managed to give her the slip, the man was in a wheelchair! Jane had said something about Bobby telling her he was visiting a friend for information, which had been sort of true.
Long story short, Bobby had lost the game. Dean had found it, got Bobby back his years, but then lost quite a few of his own.
Dean was an old man.
"Just don't tell her," Dean said after a moment, eyeballing the bags of food Sam had returned with. It had been quite a shock for baby brother, coming in and seeing an old man at the table. "She doesn't have to find out, we'll fix this."
They both jumped when the door opened, Bobby rolling in. Sighing in relief, Dean unwrapped a burger and took a huge bite. Sam was looking behind Bobby, feeling dread settling in the pit of his stomach.
Jane was right behind Bobby, looking grim. It was obvious Bobby had briefed her on what had happened.
"Well look at John McCain here." Bobby grunted. He had been out retrieving his stuff from his van and seen Jane pulling into the parking lot. Figuring she ought to be prepared, he had given her the rundown of what had happened. However, from the look on her face, knowing and seeing were two very different things.
Dean dropped the burger when he seen his wife. "Sweetheart-"
"You're an idiot!"
"Woman! I did it to save Bobby!"
"Well he's an idiot too!"
"Hey," Bobby spoke up. "Nobody asked him to play."
"Right, I should have just let you die." Dean said sarcastically.
Jane looked back and forth between them, debating on which one to slap first.
"And for damn sure, no one asked you to lose!"
Sam was grinning. "It's like Grumpy Old Men."
Even Jane couldn't keep the grin off her face when Dean and Bobby both turned to Sam and said at the same time: "Shut up, Sam." The grin faded fast though. Her husband was an old man and God bless him, still as irritating as ever. But the old part worried her. Old and hunting just did not mix, especially if you were one of the Winchesters, who seemed to have giant bull's-eyes painted on their backsides. Providing being old in general didn't kill him.
She sat down beside Dean, trying not to stare at him but failing. He was ignoring it for the most part, focused on Bobby, and she listened to their conversation. She could sympathize for Bobby, she got him trying to win back his youth, to feel useful again. She had just spent a few months shacked up with the old coot, she knew damn well he was feeling like a washed-up, worthless junker. Even so, this was just stupid on his part and stupid on Dean's.
"You hear me bellyaching?"
Sam and Jane both cocked their heads as Dean's stomach made a rather funny noise. "Yeah." They smiled at each other whereas Dean was looking terrified.
Dean sank back down into his chair. "Oh!" He gripped his burger tightly enough to dig his fingers through the crust. "I think I'm having a heart attack."
Jane moved towards him, frowning.
"No, you're not, idjit."
"What is it then?" Dean croaked, leaning against Jane.
"Acid reflux."
Jane took the burger out of Dean's hands.
"Maybe you should've sit this one out." Jane said, frowning as Dean wheezed his way over to where she and Sam stood. Well, Sam was hunched, busy picking the door to he-witch's apartment. The elevator had been out of service so Bobby had remained down on the street while the three of them trekked up the many stairs. She and Sam had made it with no problem, they were both healthy people who fairly took care of themselves. Dean, however…
"I'm good, I'm fine." He gasped, wiping sweat from his brow.
Sam shot them a look over his shoulder as he pushed open the now unlocked door. Shaking his head, he led the way inside, immediately beginning to search. It was Dean though, who found the safe. He seemed to have a hard time cracking it though, even after saying it would be a piece of cake, and it took her a second to realize he was squinting. "Can't see, can you?"
"It's blurry."
"It's like Mission Pathetic," Sam snorted, gently nudging his way older brother aside. "Watch out, I got it." He had it open within seconds, revealing a lot of poker chips.
"I could have done that."
Hiding a smile, Jane wrapped her arm around Dean's waist and leaned gently into him. "Hush old man."
He groaned, glancing down at her. "Really?"
She just nodded, frowning when a familiar sensation gripped her. "Uh, guys?"
Ignoring them, Sam reached out to grab a handful of the chips, wondering if this was going to be as easy as it seemed.
"What are you doing?"
They all turned to find a woman standing there, not looking overly pleased at seeing them.
"Aren't you the chick from the bar?"
Jane was going to eventually smack Dean. What was with him and meeting supernatural women at bars? Nothing good ever came of it. She felt it would have been overly redundant to say 'witch', but it seemed like her boys were a bit off their game. "Witch."
"That too." The woman held up a hand, made a fist and a gesture. Dean was hunching over in agony a moment later. She blinked when the other woman lunged for her, raising both hands.
"It's all right, sweetheart. They're harmless."
Jane halted mid-lunge, frowning at the man, the 'he-witch', as Bobby had referred to him. He had an Irish accent and was rather good looking, though she would bet money that he was older than her, Sam, and Dean put together. She retreated, stepping back to help Dean straighten himself.
"You boys want chips? Take 'em."
Jane listened as he both bragged and explained why taking the chips was pointless, inwardly cringing. A nine hundred year old witch, she was pretty sure none of the witches they had encountered outside of the Samhain witches had been this old. This one however, did not seem entirely evil.
"…should have taken better care of that ticker though."
She watched as he opened the door, mockingly bowing at them.
"You're free to go."
Sam led the way, she was stuck in the middle, and Dean was shuffling behind them. Twilight years… how many years did Dean have left? When Sam had seemed like he might take up the poker playing offer, Dean had nipped that in the bud. Maybe Sam was really bad at cards. She hadn't played in years but she was sure she could pick it back up.
"Oh, but Sam?"
"Your brother's situation is punishment enough but you? I can't let you leave without a small parting gift." He clapped his hands three times, sarcasm emanating from him in waves. His gaze shifted on Jane. "Not entirely 'normal', are you Jane?"
"How do you know me?"
"You're a Winchester, dear. Now…" He considered her. "I wonder if it'll even take…"
Jane did not like that.
The woman gripped his shoulder. "No, let her be." She said softly.
Considering Jane had planned on taking the blonde's head off at one point earlier that was surprising. Her surprise must have shown on her face because she was given a stiff smile.
"I would have done the same if it had been my man."
Made sense.
It wasn't until they were out of the building, and Sam couldn't stop itching, that Jane decided the witches were along the lines of 'chaotic' opposed to good or evil.
"I think that he-witch gave you the clap." Dean announced.
"Oh… that sucks." She felt for her brother-in-law, truly.
Sam stormed off.
"…what are you up by? Like thirteen years now, Hesh? How about we call it a day?"
Jane watched quietly from her place at Sam's side as the man gathered his chips, nodding eagerly. "Thanks, Patrick." He Witch had a name. "That was nice of you." She commented after the other man -Hesh- had left.
"I'm a nice guy." He studied her before looking to Sam, hands busy shuffling the deck. "What can I do for you?"
Sam sat down in the now empty chair. "Deal."
Patrick smiled though when Jane took a step forward he shook his head. "Sorry Jane but I'm afraid you'll have to sit this one out. I'm not sure you can even bargain with your years."
"I- what?"
He just continued smiling.
They were so busted. Patrick had been onto them from the start, and the toothpick Sam had passed Dean earlier was worthless. Patrick hadn't been overly pleased with what he had called 'cheating', and then Lia had confessed her role in the affair. She had been the one to give them the damn reversal spell. If not for the fact that she was worried about their asses, Jane would have found the scene between the pair heartbreaking.
"I got time."
"Maybe," Patrick nodded, almost genially, though as far as Jane was concerned, there was something sadistic about his expression. "But I can't say the same for Dean. Your brother is going to be dead soon."
She tensed in her chair.
"When I say soon, I really mean minutes."
Jane was on her feet. Sam was doing the same. They both were jerked back down by Patrick without him ever touching them.
"The game's not over and you," He glanced at her, scowling. "You'll just keep yourself right there until it's your turn."
"Dean-"
"Nothing you can do for him, darlin'." He focused his gaze back on Sam. "Blinds."
Almost as soon as Sam put down his chip, Jane felt her heart give a lurch and gasped, hands flying to clutch her chest. "Dean." She whispered, trying to pull herself out of the chair, eyes growing wide.
Sam shot her a panicked look. "Jane?"
"Focus Sam, your mind tends to go to hell when you get emotional about your brother."
Jane had been wrong, Patrick was evil. It felt like the pain was getting worse although she somehow knew it wasn't her pain, it was Dean's. She didn't care why she was feeling it, or if it was just some emotional connection or some such thing they had going. All she knew was he was dying and there wasn't a thing she could do about it.
"Patrick…" Lia whispered from her own place, staring at Jane.
He ignored her.
Jane slumped backwards, head lolling against the wall as her hands fell into her lap.
Sam pushed all his chips into the center of the table. "All in."
"Put the damn burger down, Dean."
"Jane, sweetheart, I'm young and carefree, let me enjoy it."
"Put it down."
"Woman…"
"You nearly died!"
"Because of a witch! Not this beautiful, innocent burger…" Dean took a large bite, almost defiantly. He and Bobby had had a chat, Sam was getting a booster, and Jane was giving him the 'iron skillet upside your head' look. All was right in his world. He had nearly died, she was right about that. He had been lying there, on that floor, slipping away when suddenly… he was him again, back to thirty, and able to breathe and move without something wheezing or creaking.
She just shook her head, trying not to look amused. She would encourage the healthier eating tomorrow, today she was just going to be glad to have him. "You're a pain in my ass, Mr. Winchester."
"You love it, Mrs. Winchester." He bent down to kiss her, laughing when she shoved him away and swallowed down the rest of his food. "Better?"
"Dean, gross!"
Bobby was watching them from his van, window down, and shook his head. "If you two idjits are done… I'm heading out. Jane, you coming back with me?"
She looked at Dean, expecting him to answer for her and send her packing.
Dean considered her, finally draping an arm around her shoulders. "Nah, she's staying."
"Idjits."
"We love you too, Bobby." Jane waved at him, grinning when he cracked a lopsided smile of his own. "No more poker games!"
"Dean, better reign in your wife, she's getting bossy as hell."
"Considering there's not a lick of sense between the three of you guys…"
Dean was staying out of it. He just wanted to enjoy his burger.
