Sam/Dean Mini Bang 2011: All Roads Lead to You (Part 1)
(Please see masterpost for warnings)
1998
Dean pulled up to their current motel room, having just picked up some supplies for his father at the local hardware store. He pulled the bag out of the car with him and locked the impala before heading inside. The sight that greeted him, while not too strange to see in the evening, was rather bizarre at two in the afternoon. Dean had been gone for maybe an hour, tops, and John Winchester was already down half a bottle of jack. He looked rather…upset. More than usual, anyways, Dean observed.
“Dad?” He tried, “Are you alright?” He shut the door behind him, placed the bag on the floor, and stepped forward cautiously.
“How long, Dean?” He whispered, never looking up from his glass.
“Sir?”
“Please. I know about you and Sam, so don’t insult my intelligence with that bullshit.” He smiled, but nothing about it looked happy. It spoke of unbearable hurt and broken trust, causing Dean’s stomach to drop. Despite how hard Sam and Dean had worked to hide their relationship, John knew and there was no way that they weren’t thinking about the same thing. Quite frankly, he was astounded that his father hadn’t walked him out back with a gun yet. He and Sam knew what the risks were, but figured it was worth it. So, he plucked up his courage, and answered his father’s question with a brave face.
“Two years.” John set down his glass on the table beside him, and finally looked at Dean. The anger flared within his eyes, and Dean flinched before he could catch himself and look away.
“Two fucking years? How…how the hell could you do that to him! He was only thirteen!” He palmed his face in horror at his son. His older son, who he trusted with his most precious possession, his Sammy, had betrayed him. “Did you fuck him back then, boy?”
“No!” Dean snapped, horrified that his father could even think that. “God Dad, we’ve never- we’ve never done that!”
“Then what, Dean? What have you done to him? I know for a fact that you’ve been spotted kissing him outside of his school! It took a long talk with the principal to ensure that he didn’t call child protective services on us! I had to lie, and say that you were just some boy my son was dating. That I knew, and didn’t care. Well guess what, boy, I care a whole hell of a lot!”
“I love him, Dad, and he loves me, too.” Dean whispered, trying hard to keep from crying. He sunk to his knees, awaiting the blows that were sure to come, and not even daring to raise his head to look at his father. He knew what he was in his father’s eyes. He was filth, and he was corrupting Sam’s mind with his sickness. His affliction, that started when he was twelve, and wouldn’t go away.
John took in the sight before him. Even through the haze of the alcohol, he knew what Dean was thinking. He knew that the boy expected to be punished, as well he should. But despite everything, Dean was still his first born son, who he loved more than life itself. He couldn’t bring himself to do any physical harm. With shaky breath, he gave his final orders.
“At the end of the day, I’ve told the principal to call Sam in to get his records. You have two options, Dean. Option 1: you and Sam break things off, and go back to being brothers. We can move on, and I won’t say another word about it. Or, Option 2: You take Sam, and you leave. Never come back. Never call me again.” He sat back down, raising his son’s tear streaked face with his hands. “I can see it in your eyes; I know you mean it when you say you love Sam. But you can have him, or you can have your family. I can’t condone this, Dean. Its how it’s gotta be.”
Dean nodded, and stood, packing his and Sam’s bags. As he reached the door, he risked looking back one last time. “I think you know that I gotta pick Sammy, Dad. I’ll always choose Sam.”
*******
Dean waited patiently for the bell to ring, not even bothering to stand outside the car. He was too lost in thought to greet Sam as he usually did, and it got him in to trouble, anyways. Planning was of big concern now, though he wouldn’t make any definitive plans without Sam’s input. First, they’d need money. When John thought Dean wasn’t looking, he placed the tin with their emergency stash into Dean’s bag, so he knew he had at least 2,000 bucks on him. And when they settled someplace, Dean would get a job. They’d need more than what they had to get set up with something nice, though, so they’d do some hustling along the way.
Dean didn’t think about it any further as the memory of how they started all this drifted into his head. It was the happiest night of his life, and he allowed the memory to wash over him like a balm for all the hurt he experienced that day.
*******
July 4th, 1996
Sam was more excited for the fireworks than Dean had seen him for anything in a long while. At thirteen, he was the epitome of angst, and brooded more often then he smiled. Angry at the world and more often then not, their father, Sam wasn’t terribly fun to be around. He also tended to avoid Dean, despite his brother’s best efforts to spend time with him. So when Dean brought fireworks back to the motel for Sammy, he was somewhat surprised at the response.
True, it was as much for himself as it was for Sam, but he was glad he could once again put a smile to his brother’s face. At this point, he’d accepted his misplaced feelings for Sam, and knew that he would never act on them, but in that moment, when Sam pulled the things from the trunk and carried them into the field, he couldn’t help but revel in the surge of love he felt.
Pulling two roman candles from the crate, he asked for Dean’s lighter, and Dean fumbled to get it as he pulled himself out of his affection-induced haze. He lit the ends of both, and watched in awe as the lights shot forth and exploded across the sky. Each little burst reverberated through him, and made the warmth in his chest feel a hell of a lot more potent. And when they stopped, and Sam thanked him, he felt the sensation swell.
Sam pulled him in tightly for a hug, and Dean didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms firmly around him. “Dean?” Sam looked up at him through his thick lashes, “I have something I want to tell you…I-you’re probably gonna hate me for it.” He pulled away, and took a step back.
“Sam, there’s absolutely nothing you could say to me that would make me hate you, okay?” Sam smiled a bit before continuing.
“I love you. I mean, not like a brother…more. I- geez this is hard- I’ve been staying away, hoping that I could stop, but I can’t.”
Dean smiled, realizing what was being said. It was okay now…he wasn’t alone! So, he placed one arm low around Sam’s back, and pulled him in before saying, “You mean you love me like this?” Dean leaned down, pressing his lips delicately to the soft ones of his brother. Sam leaned into it, wrapping his arms around Dean’s neck, before pulling back.
“Exactly like this.” He breathed out.
“Then I’m yours for as long as you’ll have me, Sammy.”
*******
1998
Dean startled when the passenger side door flew open to reveal a slightly confused Sam.
“We leaving again, Dean? Where’s Dad?” He asked, dropping his backpack over the seat.
“We’re leaving,” Dean motioned to the two of them, “And I don’t know what Dad’s doing. He’s not coming with us.” Dean put her into drive, and navigated the groups of teenagers crossing the street to the parking lot.
“Does this mean…” Sam trailed off, deep in thought. They’d talked about running away together before, but Sam was always more keen on the idea than Dean. Sam knew that Dean loved him more than anything, but he wouldn’t give up on his father if he didn’t have to.
“Dad knows, Sam, and he made it very clear that we were to end it, or get gone. I figured you wouldn’t mind.” Dean stared ahead, white-knuckling the steering wheel. The ramifications of what he had done were just now starting to really dawn on him. It was likely that they had both seen their father for the last time, and he was talking about it like it was no big deal.
Sam swelled with joy. While he didn’t like knowing that his father knew, it had given them the extra nudge they needed to finally move on. Sam hated moving around all the time, and having to be sneaky when their father was home to show his affection to Dean. They wouldn’t have to hide anymore. They were free.
“So, when you were doing all that hypothetical planning these past few months, did you ever decide where you’d want to go?” Dean asked, pulling onto the main drag.
“Somewhere near the west coast. I’m gonna apply to Stanford next year, after I take my SATs.”
“Where’s Stanford?” Dean inquired.
“California.”
“Cali it is, college boy!” Dean smirked, heading for the interstate, and their new lives.
*******
June, 2009
Dean slipped into his coveralls as he made discreet glances at Sam finishing off his suit with the green silk tie Dean had given him for his birthday last month. Ordinarily, it would be an unoriginal and thoughtless gift. However, Sam had been practicing law for a whole year at that point, and had yet to get any decent ones. He’d been griping about it for weeks. Thus, Dean got three.
Sam, who was standing in front of the long mirror on the back of their closet door, knew Dean was looking at him. He stilled until Dean’s eyes met his in the mirror, and he gave a grin. Dean slipped up behind him, wrapping his arms around his lover’s middle.
“If I knew you liked watching me dress so much, I’d have waited for you to finish with your coveralls. You know, so you could really watch.”
“Yeah, but I’m gonna be late as it is. Tony’ll have my ass if I don’t get it into gear.”
“Kinda sucks though, doesn’t it? I’m pretty sure I’ll be in court till late tonight. This case is driving me nuts!”
“Yeah, but you’re the best damn criminal defense lawyer in the entire U.S. They give you the tough cases ‘cus they know you can handle them.”
“I know, but I’m rather frustrated by how badly Rufus stepped in it this time. I don’t know if I’ll be able to get him out of going to prison this time.”
“Well, if he gets a guilty verdict, I’ll call Bobby to bust his ass out.”
“Dean Winchester!” Sam fake gasped, pulling out of his arms to face him, “Are you suggesting my client should rely on illegal means to secure his freedom?”
Dean smiled, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Good. Give me a kiss, I’ve got to go.” Sam leaned in, pressing his lips to his lover’s. “See you tonight.”
And, for what seems like the millionth time since they moved into their apartment in Sacramento, Dean watched Sam leave for work, remembering that they might not have had all this if not for leaving hunting. Or, more specifically, leaving Dad. Dean managed to get a nice job as a mechanic, earning him a decent wage and excellent hours. Sam worked a lot, but he liked what he did. He only ever griped when he worked pro bono defending hunters. For some odd reason, California seemed to be an unlucky spot for hunters when it came to the law. And given the fact that most hunters knew who Sam and Dean were, they always sought out his help.
Dean grabbed his keys from the bowl on the counter, and headed out for another fine day of fixing up American classics for rich snobs and car enthusiasts.
*******
When Dean got home, he noticed something…off about their door. Looking at the lock, he realized quickly that it had been picked. Someone was either in their apartment, or had been. He pulled a pocketknife from his coveralls and pushed the door open, at the ready in case someone or something was waiting for him.
He expected a good number of things, but none of those included his father leaning up against his kitchen counter.
“Hello, Dean.” He smiled, waiting until Dean put the knife away to step forward and hug him.
“Not to be a killjoy or anything, but what are you doing here?”
John stepped back, and returned to his former position against the counter. Dean closed the door and locked it, worried that the neighbors would see the gruff hunter in his company. Those nosy bastards, Dean thought.
“I heard from Bobby that Sam was Rufus’ lawyer. I had to come see for myself.”
“Really? That’s what this is about? Rufus?” Dean stared in disbelief.
“And I wanted to see you boys. It’s been a long time.”
“Yeah, no kidding.” Dean rolled his eyes. “I’d say ‘make yourself at home’, but since you already have, I’m gonna go shower and change.”
*******
Dean wasn’t the only one who noticed the picked lock. Sam’s eyes zeroed in on it the second he got close enough to touch the knob. He knew Dean was already home, as he saw the impala in its parking spot, but he proceeded cautiously nonetheless. Upon entering, his eyes landed on a mound of dark hair peaking over the edge of the couch. The shower was running, so Dean was either unconcerned with the strange person in their home, or was unaware of its presence.
“Hello?” Sam called out, wishing that he had followed Dean’s advice to hide a weapon on him someplace. The figure stood and turned to face them.
“Dad?”
“Hey, Sammy.” Sam placed his suitcase on the floor and enveloped the man in a firm embrace all within moments.
“It’s good to see you, boy.” John smiled.
“You too, dad.” Sam replied. “Does Dean know you’re here?”
“I got here before he did. Are you gonna go and change, too?”
“Yeah, I’ve been in this damn thing for too long. I’ll be right back.” Sam passed through the hallway at the same time as Dean did, stopping briefly to kiss him on the cheek in way of greeting.
“You’re home early.” Dean observed.
“Yeah, I managed to get Rufus’ case dismissed on a technicality.”
“Congrats, bro!” Dean ruffled his hair as he started toward their bedroom, musing at their rare brotherly moment.
“So Rufus is off the hook then, huh?” John asked as Dean returned to the living room.
“Yep. I figure we’re probably gonna go out to eat. We usually celebrate whenever Sam wins a case for a hunter. And, since you’re here, we’ve got even more reason to go out.”
“Good, I’m starving.” John replied. He picked up a photo from the end table, surveying it closely.
“That’s mine and Sam’s favorite picture from our wedding. In July, we’ll have been married for a year.”
“That’s great, son.” John smiled.
“So, you’re okay with us now?” Dean had to ask.
“I don’t know as though I’ll ever condone it,” John sighed, “But I miss being a family. I regretted sending you two away, but it was too late. You’d already been gone a week by the time I got my head out of my ass and realized what I had done.”
“Bobby knew we were here,” Sam piped in, moving into the room to sit next to Dean. “You could have asked him where we were.”
“To be honest, the thought had never occurred to me.” All three Winchester men took a few moments to think before John spoke again. “How’d you manage the marriage thing, anyways? I’m pretty sure incest is still illegal.”
“When I finished high school and we moved from L.A. to Palo Alto, Dean got Bobby to help him craft a whole new identity. Dean Winchester disappeared, and Bobby gained a nephew by the name of Dean Singer. He got a birth certificate, a social security number, falsified records of employment at Singer Salvage…the whole nine. He took my last name when we married.”
“I’m just glad we didn’t wait to get married. Proposition 8’s a bitch.” Dean smirked.
John laughed at Dean’s attempt at humor (to hide his obvious relief), because contrary to popular opinion, he was aware of the national news. Sam just ran his thumb over Dean’s wedding ring where their hands met.
“We should probably get going. I want a burger, and my favorite burger joint closes at eight.”
*******
Dinner went surprisingly well; no one killed each other. They talked about everything and nothing. Sam told their father about Stanford, and how he managed to get grants and scholarships to cover everything, and Dean told him about the mustang he was working on at the shop.
It was a shame that the next morning didn’t go as smoothly. Sam made breakfast before he left for work, which he couldn’t skip because he needed to go visit a client, but Dean had the day off. So, it was just him and John for the rest of the day.
Things were…awkward, to say the least. Neither man spoke much to the other as they ate their eggs and hash browns.
“No bacon?” John observed curiously.
“Nah, Sam wants me to eat healthier. I don’t eat it very often anymore.”
John grunted in response.
When they finished, Dean cleared the dishes from the table, and they both settled on the sofa in front of the TV. It would seem as if Dean and John would have a lot to talk about, as they hadn’t seen each other in years, but the silence was thick between them.
“Wanna go see some sights?” Dean asked lazily, waiting to see if his father would respond. He looked contemplative before responding, “Nope.”
“I can take you to the shop, show you that mustang I’ve been working on.” Dean offered.
“Dean,” John started finally looking at his son, “do you ever miss hunting?”
“All the time. But I haven’t been on a single hunt since Sam and I settled in LA. We stumbled upon a haunting on our way over, and we took care of it, but by unspoken agreement we didn’t go looking for any more.”
“We should go sometime. Just you and me, like it used to be.” John smiled.
Dean looked down at his soda and smiled sadly, “I don’t think I could do it anymore. I keep myself in shape, but it’s been too long.”
“I’m not saying that we should jump into hunting something hard, or something far away, just…something. Because as much as I hate to say it, I used to think of you as my hunting partner, and I miss that. Having someone to watch your back is nice.”
“I’ll have to discuss it with Sammy first.” Dean stated, placing his beverage on the coffee table.
“Are you sure about that? I got a lead on a pack of werewolves in Nevada, and full moon’s in two days.” While it was rather tempting, Dean figured it best to stick to his guns.
“Like I said, I’ll talk to Sam.”
*******
Sam got home far later than he’d have liked, and his father had already turned in for the night. Dean was cleaning up in the kitchen, but set down the dish rag in favor of greeting his husband.
“Hey, babe.” Dean smiled, pressing his lips to Sam’s. “I saved you some dinner.”
Sam couldn’t help but smile. “We are so domesticated. I love it!”
“You would, lawyer boy,” Dean moved away and snagged a plate from the microwave, already piled high with chicken and pasta. “Come eat.”
Sam sat, immediately digging in. His stomach had been growling the whole way home, and Dean made his favorite. Dean, meanwhile, finished clearing and wiping the counters, and sat down across from his husband.
“So how was work?” Dean asked, grinning ear to ear.
“It was fantastic, honey, I hate to brag, but I think I’m doing a fantastic job of bringing home the bacon.” He laughed.
“Actually,” Dean said, suddenly serious, “we may have to get some bacon. Dad was a bit disappointed when I served breakfast without it this morning.”
“Oh, God, I forgot! How’d it go with dad today?”
“It was…weird. We sat around and watched tv most of the morning, and then we made a Walmart run for him to replace a few of his more battered shirts. Shockingly enough, he’s still wearing the same clothes that he had when we left.”
“That’s- that’s a long time to keep the same clothes. Especially considering I’m sure he’s stained and ripped them many times by now.”
“Some of that stuff was just downright ratty, dude.” Sam could tell after a moment that there was something else that Dean wanted to say. He was fiddling with the placemat in front of him and everything.
“You look like you wanna say something, Dean. Spit it out.”
“Dad wants me to go hunting.”
To be honest, it wasn’t what Sam was expecting. Nor was it something he particularly liked the thought of. He used to sit up for hours waiting for Dean and Dad to return from hunts, worrying about the state they’d return in, if at all. He didn’t really want to go through that again. But the longing look on Dean’s face was too much. With a sigh he asked, “Does he have a hunt lined up for you two?”
“Werewolves. One state over, and the full moon is in a few nights. It’s straight forward, and won’t take long.”
“You better come back without a scratch. You know I hate seeing you hurt.” Dean smirked sadly, lamenting all the times over the years he’d put that saddened, worried expression on Sam’s face.
“I know, Sammy.” Dean stood, and planted a kiss to the top of his husband’s head. “I’m gonna head to bed. Don’t be up too long, k? Tomorrow’s your day with Dad, and I have to get to work early to do some catching up.”
“Alright, Dean.” Sam snagged his hand as he walked by, placing a kiss to the back of it. “I’ll be in as soon as I finish eating.”
Dean smiled at him one last time, and left the kitchen. He felt relieved that Sam had said yes, but was now more anxious than anything. Not in a good way, but also not in a bad way. He was a hunter, and he was ready to hunt. That was all.
*******
Dean kept his eyes closed as he heard Sam undress and leave to brush his teeth. He opted to wait until Sam crawled into bed cautiously behind him to roll and face him. The lazy smile that spread across Sam’s face told him that Sam knew he was awake the whole time.
Sliding his hand to Dean’s waist, he sighed in contentment. Dean wrapped his arm around his husband, and placed his hand upon his shoulder. They faced each other, a familiar position for the two, and met in the middle with their lips. The kiss was beyond delicate, neither wanting to shatter the near-perfect moment. But, Dean wanted more. His need for Sam was like an unquenchable thirst, and he’d never get tired of this. He deepened the kiss, sliding his fingers up to tangle in Sam’s long hair. Sam pulled Dean so they were chest-to-chest, hip-to-hip, and they both moved their other arms to snake beneath their bodies to hold the other.
Rocking forward, they set a slow and gentle rhythm, for tonight wasn’t about sex…not really. It would be so easy for Sam to put Dean under him, to make him beg, but sometimes this was all they needed.
Legs tangled, lips touching, breathing each other’s air- their intricate dance, never shared with another soul.
Sam gasped as he met his release, Dean trailing slightly behind. Neither wanted to leave the other’s embrace, perfectly content in their relaxed state. Dean brought one hand up to caress Sam’s cheek, never breaking contact with his eyes.
“As hard as it was for you to leave all those years ago, I’m so glad we did.” Sam murmured, drifting off into a peaceful sleep before Dean could say anything.
Dean’s only reply was to place a barely-there kiss to Sam’s forehead, right before he followed him into unconsciousness.
*******
The next morning, John was the first one awake. He trudged into the living room in his t-shirt and boxers, not yet bothering with pants, and saw that everything was as it was the night before.
He entered the kitchen intending to make some coffee, but couldn’t find it. He searched all the cabinets, and yet, it eluded him. It was frustrating, to say the least. One would think a hunter could find the coffee beans.
Giving up on the endeavor, he walked back through the hallway to his boy’s room. He was just going to peak in, see if either was near awake yet. And perhaps he could coax one of them into showing him where he could find the coffee.
Carefully pushing the door open, he couldn’t help but be completely in awe of the sight before him. Sam and Dean were wrapped around each other, slight smiles to their youthful faces.
It wasn’t until that moment that he finally understood the love his boys felt for one another. It had been much the same with him and Mary. While he didn’t know back then, it had been cruel to try and separate them.
John watched as Dean began to stir, lazily running his hands through his husband’s chocolate locks. He decided that he’d rather his son not catch him watching when he fully awoke. Thus, he gently pulled the door shut, twisting the knob to make it as soundless as possible as he made his retreat.
Dean slipped out of bed and into the bathroom, attempting to conceal the evidence of the previous night’s activities from his father. As shameless as he was, he didn’t think that John would want to see that. Slipping into the shower, he began to hum some Zepp and mentally plan his day.
Part 2