Life From the Dead 1/2
A/N: So I’ve really, really tried to make this friendly to all comers: gen, Sam-girls, Cas-girls, slash girls, etc. But I also feel Dean and Cas deserve a bit of time as a couple, or my attempt to make this ‘verse realistic lacks something significant. I hope that those of you who have been such fabulous, loyal readers thus far, will trust me to keep this ‘verse friendly to you all. This is pretty much as jiggy as any of the couples are going to get. If you really don’t want to go there, no worries: Sam’s section is 100% gen, and contains what I hope is something entertaining about the Crowley arc. And there’s Dean’s POV on finding Crowley. And to those of you Dean/Cas girls who have endured without any couple-time, I hope you enjoy your pair. And if NONE of this is your cup o’tea...thanks for stopping by anyway!
For if their rejection brought reconciliation to the world, what will their acceptance be but life from the dead?--Romans 11:14-16
Sam had always felt things faster than Dean had.
Sometimes, when Dean couldn’t sleep, he wondered if that was how he was made, or if he’d adapted in order to provide for Sam’s immediate, intense reactions to hardships. He wondered, if John had mastered his demons, if it would be him relying heavily on his normal, well-adjusted brother, and Sam would calmly and logically walk him through his initial reactions.
But most of the time, Dean didn’t question. It was damn convenient, in his opinion, not to feel the weight of a situation in the moment. When everyone else was attended to, that’s when he allowed himself his own breakdowns. Throughout Dean’s life, having the time to break down was a luxury in itself.
So when Cas informed him he was going away for the weekend, it was Sam who looked like he’d just been dumped, and Dean had to take care of that look. Throughout their time alone, he honestly didn’t feel Cas’ absence: his damn doctor had vanished for nights and double-shifts often enough that a weekend without him didn’t feel like much of anything.
It wasn’t until Sam was out of the car and loping toward the bookstore and Dean was guiding the Impala back home to Cas that his stomach suddenly lurched with such anxiety and fear that he very nearly had to pull over. The jig was up: Sam was sane and calm and safe at work. Cas was back, as mysteriously as he’d left. And there was nowhere to go but home to him, and no overgrown brother to cower behind.
Love, sang Alice Cooper, is a loaded gun. And Cas had opened fire.
***
“Morning!” Ava chirped. Ava does not speak: she chirps, squacks, caws, and, on occasion, squees. At least, that’s how Andy described her. He said the sound of her voice made his eardrums hum, like a dog that could hear frequencies unknown to humans.
Sam thought she was sweet enough. She’d given him his job back after he’d crawled out of Rosemount. And told him she’d try and get him a raise in the next few months.
“Hey, Ava. Happy Monday.”
“I had the best weekend, Sam! We went to a fair and Brady won me a huge teddy bear and then bought us funnel cake. And halfway through it I started coughing and choking and ended up on the ground and he had to pick me up and give me the Heimlich and I puked and then landed in it and then found this!” She thrust her hand into his face revealing a sparkling diamond ring. “He’d laced it onto the end of the cake! Isn’t that adorable!”
Sam had thought Becky was too much. He smiled politely. “Congratulations.”
“Thanks! By the way-some blonde girl was around this weekend, asking for you. She said she’d swing by this morning. Can you work the information desk? We’ve had like, fifty people coming by asking why the books aren’t free to download electronically.”
“Joy,” Sam smiled.
“Yeah. I had Max working it but he kinda lost it.”
“Did the girl leave her name?”
“No. But she said you were a good friend. Actually, she said something kinda super uber creepy weird. She said you had a...common paternity.”
Sam stomach suddenly felt tighter. His heart sped up. He remembered Cas’ breathing tricks and kept himself steady. “That’s...weird.”
“Right? Look, she gives you trouble you let me know. Okay?”
“Sure. Thanks, Ava.”
The store was a chain, but this branch billed itself as a “Superstore” branch. Information was in the center, and functioned as a help desk for the electronic readers and a librarian station for looking up and ordering inventory. Sam really enjoyed working Information. He often got into long discussions with the customers, recommending books and authors to one another, and he personally enjoyed solving the tech issues of the little electronic readers. He far preferred it to working the registers, which often had long lines on weekends and frequently tested his stupidly shoddy nerves.
Sam had thrived on pressure. For years. He’d enjoyed the thrill of an academic or physical challenge-the worthy opponent he’d easily conquered. But recovery had weakened him. He was building back to his normal self, but then some stupid thing like a line on a Saturday would increase his heart rate, and he’d feel miles away from the old Sam, who could load his academic schedule to the brink and not need to rest, or go to group, or call his big brother to make sure Dean hadn’t been hit by a semi on his way to the garage and Cas hadn’t caught Ebola making his usual rounds.
The store opened at 9:30. Sam had just booted up the computer and was putting in a few special orders that had come in by e-mail when Ruby arrived, looking sweaty, pale, and downright pissed.
“Sam,” she said.
“Hey.” He smiled. She didn’t reciprocate. “Were you looking for me this weekend?”
“I’ve been looking for you since Thursday night.”
That horrid unease was back. “You okay?”
“No. No, I’m not. We need to have a talk. A nice. Long. Talk.”
“Well...I’m working. Can this wait until-”
“I know it was Dean, Sam.”
“Sorry?”
“I know what your brother did to Fitzgerald McCloud.”
Sam balked. Tried to cover. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yes you do. So we can do this here, in front of customers who could potentially serve as witnesses, or in private.”
Sam felt a lick of rage. If Dean felt Crowley didn’t get to slither around with his life in his back pocket, than Ruby didn’t get to march around with Dean’s life in hers.
“Come with me,” he said.
***
“I’m back!” Dean bellowed. Cas smiled, hearing his partner’s enthusiastic pounding on their stairs. He’d long ago given up trying to get Dean to take them one at a time, and at a decent human speed.
Cas had finished unpacking his duffel, showered, and dressed in a t-shirt and jeans while Dean had run Sam to work. Cas had offered to, but when Dean waved him off, he’d managed to pull the young man aside and thank him for his message.
“Please don’t allow things to change. I’m the one who was in the wrong.”
“No. If you and Dean get to share my mess, we share yours,” Sam had said, and smiled, shyly. “It’s good to see you, Cas.”
“You too, Sam.” He’d reached out and squeezed the younger man’s elbow. “Very good.”
Dean appeared in the doorway in his gray tee, jeans with the small hole above the right knee, and the ever-present necklace. “You didn’t wear a jacket?” Cas asked.
Dean snorted. “Dude, if anyone should be worried about bringing infectious diseases into this house, it’s you.”
Normally, they’d laugh at this. But with the alienation of the past few days, the attempted humor sank them both. Cas sighed and made his way around the bed.
“We need to talk, Dean.”
“I know,” Dean snapped. Then softened his tone. “I know.” He crossed the room and sank onto the edge of the mattress. Cas joined him. “I want to make this clear: I’m not sorry for what I did. But I am sorry I didn’t talk it over with you.”
“You were right.”
Dean frowned. “Come again?”
“Gabriel helped me understand a few things. About...my own emotional deficiencies.”
“Cas, don’t-”
“Hear me out.” Cas stared at the floor. “I was raised to believe the system could be trusted, because it always worked for my family. I realize now I wasn’t taking the enormous amount of privilege and influence that comes with my last name into account. I thought I’d seen past that.”
“It was a lot to have thrown at you.”
“It doesn’t excuse me leaving as I did. I know...abandonment is a tremendous fear we both share.”
Dean’s breath hitched a bit. “If I’d explained myself better, maybe this could have been avoided. I know...I can get defensive. Of Sam. Sometimes I...lose sight of everything else. Everyone else.”
Cas reached nervously over and lay his fingers on Dean’s thigh. When he didn’t pull away, he chanced resting his whole palm. “I’ve been pulled so deep into work I’ve lost sight of myself many times. I realized...with Gabe, as close as we can be...without you and Sam, a large part of myself ceases to exist. I become something of an...automatan.”
“Man,” Dean snorted, “you are such a geek.”
“What?”
“Most of us plebs would say robot. You go with ‘automaton.’”
“Would you prefer avatar?”
“If I come home and you’re decked out in blue and white face paint...that’s it. That’s a kink I’m not willing to try explore.”
“Oh?” Cas raised his hand and, a little shyly, ran it along Dean’s ear. Dean closed his eyes and shivered ever so slightly. “So...while we’re unknotting this particular kink in our relationship, are there, perhaps, others we should…’evaluate’?”
He may be shy, but Dean certainly wasn’t. The next thing Cas knew he was half-tossed backward onto the bed, Dean over him, pinning his hands over his head.
“I know a few of yours,” Dean murmured, and ducked out of Cas’ vision to scrape his teeth along the side of his throat, causing Cas to let out his usual mortifying, girliegiggle. “And because of your labcoat, I never have to worry about hickies.”
“Don’t you have-” another, mortifying laugh as Dean’s teeth scraped lower. “Work?”
“Switched my shift from two to ten. And I checked your blackberry: you’re not on until three. And if you were really worried, you wouldn’t have worn that white shirt before you’d dried off, and you know it.”
Cas felt himself blush-Dean was the first person to ever bring that out of him, and he knew, for a fact, that it was one of Dean’s turn-ons. Same with Cas’ still damp hair. And yes: white t-shirts.
“Maybe I know you better than I thought,” he said, as Dean eased up with the teeth and used his lips along his throat. “Maybe...I missed you. A lot.”
Dean kissed under Cas’ chin, his cheek, his forehead, and then pulled back to bore into him with those dark green eyes. “Dude. You ever take off like that again...”
“I’ll need you to find me.” Dean tilted his head slightly. “I’ll need you to remind me where I belong.”
“Well,” Dean huffed, “there’s an upside to it.”
“And that would be?”
Dean’s eyes glittered. “Now I get to win you back.”
***
“I don’t think you understand what your brother did, Sam,” Ruby snapped, pacing the back office. “McCloud...or, as we called him, Crowley, sustained us. Many of us. And you, with your stupid little dependencies and your desperate attempts to justify them, don’t get to moralize.”
Sam too her in symptoms: sweat, shakes, palor, and knew them all too well. “You’re still using,” he said.
“I never stopped,” Ruby snapped. “I was under court-order to go to jail or treatment, and I chose treatment. And Crowley, as you called him, was the only person who understood. Who came to sit in on groups and attend my family therapy sessions. Who brought me what I needed.”
“Ruby, he used us.”
“No, Sam. He used you. Me? He gave me a chance. To build a life of my own. To build trust among those who mattered. To have a bank account full of money and a home with heat and hot water. And you and that dumbass brother of yours decided it wasn’t good enough.”
“You need help,” Sam said softly. Ruby shivered. “You’re not thinking straight. Ruby, I remember. You were a good friend to Lily. You came by and visited when I was on bed rest. You have to know this isn’t where you want to be.”
“This is my family, Sam.”
“No, they’re not.”
“Spare me the come-to-Jesus talk. I’m not the only one who’s sick right now. There’s dozens of us, and it’s on you.”
“Let me take you to Rosemount. I’ll talk to Alan for you.”
“I don’t want to get better, Sam! This is better for me! I’m not stuck in that house with the stepfather who raped me and the mother who let him! I have my own home where the lights don’t go out and the hot water is always there and I don’t have to hunt for change on the street. I have a damn cat.”
Her voice hitched. Sam tried to touch her arm but she yanked away. “No! No one else gets to tell me what the ‘right’ way is. This is what works for me. And I’m gonna get Fitzgerald off the hook. And we’ll make sure your brother pays.”
“I’m not gonna let you hurt my family, Ruby.”
“Who said anything about them?” Ruby gave a cocky grin, even as a bead of sweat rolled down from her temple. “If I were you...I’d watch your salt shakers. Never know when something else might be in them.”
Sam felt heat fill his face. “You sold to them?”
“Please. Halfway houses are gold mines.” She glared. “You enjoy riding that high horse while you can. Because it’s not gonna last. There’s no getting out. It’s a matter of time before you go down again. And when you do, don’t come knocking at my door for your fix.”
She tossed her hair and took off. Sam could see her shaking was getting worse, and her hands were twitching with early spasms. If she didn’t get what she needed soon, she’d be flat on her back, in terrible pain, and too weak to help herself. He couldn’t bring himself to hate her, even now-having gone through two weeks of withdrawal and its after-effects, he didn’t have it in him to hate anyone who had to face it.
But he’d go to hell before he’d let her hurt Dean. Even if it meant publically announcing his degradation at the hands of Crowley. He’d live the humiliation. He would not live with his brother behind bars.
He wouldn’t live, at all, without Dean.
***
Sam didn’t have it in him to eat lunch, but he bought a sandwich anyway, because he knew Dean would ask about what he ate and he’d promised to stop lying. It was easier to choke down a sandwich than listen to his brother’s lectures on the importance of eating. When Dean got going, not even Cas’ placating could reel him back in.
Like clockwork, Sam finished his sandwich, and Sam’s cell rang with “Dean” on the caller ID. He smiled. If there was anything he loved about recovery, it was that he no longer dreaded his brother’s check-ins.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hey. You eat?”
“Turkey on wheat.”
“With mayo?”
“Tomato.”
“It’s too dry.”
“It’s my lunch, Dean.”
“Whatever. Hold on. I’m supposed to conference in Cas.” Dean promptly hung up on him. Sam clicked “end,” chuckling to himself. Dean was no idiot. Sam had known his brother was amazingly gifted ever since he was six and his Game Boy died. Dean had taken the machine down to pieces and used a sewing needle to rewire parts of it. Since then, Sam had seen him work magic on electrical sockets, televisions, pipes, fans, heaters, air conditioners, and of course, everything and anything the automotive industry produced. One of his fondest memories of Dean was his brother breaking into a neighbor’s and returning home with their fax machine while Sam raced to meet his college application deadlines and their computer froze. Dean deconstructed the fax machine, opened up the belly of the PC, and the next thing Sam knew, his applications were merrily printing away to the song of the fax. Dean even returned the machine to its rightful place before dawn.
But Dean’s genius stopped just short of actually using what he repaired-things like cell phones, e-mail attachments, copy machines, and digital cable were utterly beyond him. Sure, he could take apart the remote and replace a broken circuit with a paperclip, but he couldn’t use the search menu to find COPS.
The phone rang again. “Hey,” Sam said.
“Sonofabitch,” Dean grumbled. “Okay, hang on.” Sam heard the obnoxiously loud sound of buttons being hit, and then the background noise of the garage. “Dean...you put me on speaker.”
“Cas?” Dean asked.
“No, Dean, it’s me! I’m on speaker!”
“Well get off, I’m trying to dial him in!”
“You put me on.”
“I did not. Hold on-” Dean hung up on him again.
The next time his phone rang, it was Cas on the caller ID.
“Hello, Sam. I told him to let me do it,” Cas greeted him. “Hold on, let me dial him.”
Sam’s phone beeped. He glanced at the screen. “Cas, he’s on my other line.”
“He called me a rather filthy name when I told him I should take care of it,” he said. Sam could hear his smile. “Would you please tell him to hang up and wait for my call?”
“Sure thing.” Sam switched over. “Dean, I’m on the other line with Cas. He said-”
“I can patch him in!” Dean barked. “Just because I’m not one of you college kids doesn’t mean I’m a moron. Hold on.”
“Dean, it won’t work. I’m on the other line with him.”
“Well then, hang up!”
“Hold on.” Sam switched back to Cas. “He wants you to hang up.”
“Of course he does. He’s calling me now. Hold on...I’ll conference him in. Don’t tell him.”
Dean’s swearing had escalated. “Cas? Hang up with Sam!”
“We’re here, Dean. You did it.”
“Cas?”
“Here.”
“Cas!”
“Dean, I’m on the line.”
“Someone say something!”
“Dean, Cas and I are both on the line!” Sam called.
“Godamnit, I told you to hang up-no it’s not a customer-this is what happens when you don’t think I can do something!”
“He put us on mute,” Cas chuckled to Sam. Dean swore again and hung up. “Hold on. I’ll dial him.”
“Is everything alright? I mean...this isn’t the ‘we’re getting a divorce talk,’ is it?”
“No, no, Sam, please don’t worry. Everything’s fine. Dean and I are both working tonight, and given the stress of the past few days, we thought it would be good for the three of us to check-in, that’s all.” Sam heard the sound of buttons being hit. “You can always call us if you need to, of course.”
“You’re gonna stay?”
“Yes. I’m sorry I left. I regret it now. I won’t do it again. Not like that.”
Dean arrived on the line, still swearing. “-then I’m gonna pull out its little intestines and-Cas! Call Sam!”
“I’m here, Dean.”
“Well it’s about friggin’ time you two got it together. Sam, we’re having Bobby and Ellen over for dinner tomorrow and we want you there.”
“You can bring Andy if you’d like,” Cas supplied. “I’ll be making my chicken marsala.”
“The hell you will. You told me you’d fry it!”
“Sam likes it marsala style. So do Ellen and I.”
“Well, Andy and Bobby and I like fried things. And since we three could take you three, we get to fry it.”
“Cas, how about chicken parm? We all like that. If you call Alan and Missouri, I can skip group and help you cook it,” Sam said.
“That would be wonderful. Thank you, Sam. Ellen said she’d bring dessert.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m the big bad brother and boyfriend. Whatever. Sammy, you having a good day?”
“Sure.” Sam’s stomach rolled. He wanted, badly, to tell Dean about Ruby, to hear his reassurance. But hearing Dean and Cas teasing one another, he could feel their renewed affection, and the happiness it brought them both. When they’d first met Cas, he clearly mistook their banter for fighting, and frequently attempted to intervene. Now that he knew more about Cas’ background, it was clear how little, if any affection was ever shown, and there was no such thing as playful banter: only arguing.
It made Sam sad just to think of. Dean had never left Sam wanting for affection. His brother wasn’t a cuddler or hugger or one to say “I love you,” but he never denied his brother when Sam felt compelled to grab on to him, and, when he really needed it, Dean was always willing to drop his own inhibitions and hold him, or ruffle his hair, or let Sam lean on his shoulder. He’d always made it clear that Sam’s job was to be Sam, and Dean’s job was to protect that Sam.
Sam had assumed that Cas’ big brothers had been the same. Although the thought of four Deans was more than a little overwhelming, he couldn’t imagine Cas had ever wanted for affection, or protection, or guidance and acceptance.
It’d been a wakeup call to see otherwise. And it made Sam see what Dean must have seen in those early days: a vulnerable, emotionally repressed man who wanted to belong to a peaceful home as much as they did.
“What are you on?” Dean’s voice jolted him out of his thoughts.
“Nothing! Dean, just my usual-the valium at night, and Effexor in the morning, and-”
“He means at work, Sam,” Cas soothed. “He means, are you working the register today? Inventory? Information?”
Sam felt heat in his face. “Oh. Right. Right, sure. Information. I’m at the information desk.”
A long time ago, Sam wouldn’t have questioned what they meant. He wouldn’t have stuttered and repeated himself. A long time ago, Sam was going to go to law school. He had a girlfriend who left him sweet notes and made cookies and made him take breaks when he stretched himself to exhaustion. He wouldn’t have touched drugs or drank too much or forced Dean and Cas to wake up and check their smoke alarms, their heart rates, their door locks.
“That’s your favorite.” Dean’s voice was gentle, reassuring. The dialect of ‘Sam’s sick/hurt/scared/nervous.’
“Yeah. It’s good. Ava...Ava got engaged.”
“Oh, Christ. I am so not your plus one to that.”
“I’m kind of hoping she won’t invite me.”
“Have Chuck and Becky officially announced?” Cas asked.
“Dude, you think they would and we wouldn’t of heard Becky’s air-rade siren?” Dean asked.
“I suppose not.”
“Are you two alright?” Sam interrupted.
“Of course,” Cas said, at the same time Dean said “we’re good.”
“I’m on until ten tonight, Sammy,” Dean explained. “But if you need me after group you call, okay?”
“And I’ll be on rounds until at least midnight, but if you need to, please call,” Cas assured him.
“You know...I’m here for you two. Too,” Sam said.
“I know-”
“Of course-”
“We’re a team, not just-”
“We rely on you too, so-”
Sam smiled as Dean and Cas stumbled over one another. “Okay. So, we’re all good?”
“We’re damn fine,” Dean declared. Then swore. “I’m on the-not with-yeah, well, I don’t take lunch, so-damnit! The bald asshat is making me go! Cas, sign me off-yeah, I mean you, Jay! Cas! Log me off!”
“Just hang up,” Cas said.
“If there’s a bill for this three-way, you’re paying,” Dean snapped. “Yeah, I’m coming!” he roared, and then the phone clicked off. Sam couldn’t stop his laughter.
“You sure you want to grow old with him, Cas? He’s in his prime now. Imagine how he’ll be at eighty.”
“From what I understand, many elder communities allow spouses to live on separate floors.” Sam could feel his smile. “Sam. I...your message meant a great deal to me. I wanted to come home already. But...Gabriel, and you, convinced me I was right in doing so.”
Sam thinks of Ruby’s threat and his stomach drops. “Cas...I know I’m a mess. I know I’ve hurt you. I know I-”
“If I could go back in time, I’d be with Dean in that alley,” his breath hitched. “Sam. You’re a brother to me. I won’t leave you and Dean again. I mean it. I’ve told him, I’m telling you. Forgive me.”
Sam’s throat was too swollen with feeling to speak. He took a few deep breaths, swallowed hard, and nodded, even if Cas couldn’t see. “S’okay,” he murmured. “S’okay, Cas. I really-”
“I’m here with you and Dean now. For good. I won’t leave him. Or you.”
Sam had sworn he wouldn’t lie again. But, hearing Cas and Dean’s joyful reassurances, he just didn’t have the heart to bring in Ruby. To bring in Crowley. To bring in all his own insanity. They’d given him all he needed to be strong. And he had been, damnit. Once upon a time. He wasn’t going to let them lose one another-or themselves-anymore.
“We missed you,” he said. And left it at that.
***
Cas hung up with the Winchester brothers feeling a distinctive unease. He wasn’t sure why-he no longer doubted his relationship with Dean. He’d reaffirmed his brotherhood with Sam. He’d felt a peace, and security, that he hadn’t felt since the night he’d taken Dean for burgers.
He was passing by the nurse’s station when he remembered there was a world outside their little co-dependent trinity.
“I don’t care what you thought, I care what you did, and it wasn’t what I ordered!” Balthazzar barked at a nurse who looked ready to take a swing at him.
“That is what you ordered, doctor. I can show you the request.”
“You think I would make a mistake like this?”
“Given that you haven’t slept in seventy-two hours? Yes.”
“You-you probably went to night-school. You probably have an associate’s degree from an online university. I went to Oxford. I went to Cambridge. I interned at Harvard University Medical Center, and-”
“And we are so grateful for your patience,” Cas said quickly, pulling Peter away from the desk. The nurse was fully ready to launch into a tirade as Cas wrestled his friend away. “We understand the unreasonable attitude that comes with sleep deprivation.”
“You just get him the hell away from my station,” she hissed.
“I will. I’m very sorry,” Cas wasn’t the strongest of the strong, but he managed to wrestle Peter into an empty room and shut the door. “This isn’t like you.”
“Where the hell have you been?” Balthazzar snapped. “You were supposed to work the weekend.”
“I had a...family emergency.”
“Sam off the wagon, is he?”
“Don’t talk about Sam.” Cas hadn’t meant it to sound like it did, but once it was out, he couldn’t regret it. He’d had enough of people targeting his family’s weaknesses.
“Well, whatever drama you had dealt, perhaps you forgot my friend was in hospital? And perhaps, missed the news stories on his extracurricular activities?”
Cas looked away. “I saw them.”
“Right. And you, at no point, thought you should reach out to me.”
“Peter-”
“No, no, it was no big deal. I only learned one of my good friends was, in fact, a thief, fraud, dealer, and conman, and chose to confide such information in you. It’s not like I’d hope you’d be a sounding board or anything. God forbid I interrupt your weekend.”
“You could have called me.”
“You could have called me.”
Cas’ heart sank. “It’s...complicated. But I’m here now. I am-”
“You know, I understand your social limitations. I do. But I would think, as a doctor, even you would understand this: it doesn’t matter if you’re there after the wound’s bled out. You’re needed the moment the blood starts gushing.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Of course you are.” Peter grabbed the door and yanked it open. “But you know what? Now I have to do something that I loathe. I have to search my soul and evaluate my relationships. And to be frank, yours isn’t at the top of my list.”
“Please...hear me out.”
“Can you bring who did this to justice? Can you correct whatever deformity is in my character that I didn’t recognize I was drinking with a snake?”
Cas had to break his friend’s gaze. “I’m...sorry. I had a difficult weekend. Dean-”
“Yes, I know. Sam and Dean can’t zip up their flies or change their own diapers. I’ve heard the stories, I’ve sent the gift baskets, and I’ve covered your shifts. Maybe I made a mistake in thinking that made us a little more than colleagues.”
“No. Peter-”
“I’m going home. I need to sleep. Well, first I need to drink, and then I’m going to sleep. Do me a favor? Don’t match our schedules for awhile.”
“Peter-”
“Goodnight, Dr. Morgan.”
Cas watched his friend disappear around the corner, and then walked to the nurse’s station. After all, he had rounds.
Part II
For if their rejection brought reconciliation to the world, what will their acceptance be but life from the dead?--Romans 11:14-16
Sam had always felt things faster than Dean had.
Sometimes, when Dean couldn’t sleep, he wondered if that was how he was made, or if he’d adapted in order to provide for Sam’s immediate, intense reactions to hardships. He wondered, if John had mastered his demons, if it would be him relying heavily on his normal, well-adjusted brother, and Sam would calmly and logically walk him through his initial reactions.
But most of the time, Dean didn’t question. It was damn convenient, in his opinion, not to feel the weight of a situation in the moment. When everyone else was attended to, that’s when he allowed himself his own breakdowns. Throughout Dean’s life, having the time to break down was a luxury in itself.
So when Cas informed him he was going away for the weekend, it was Sam who looked like he’d just been dumped, and Dean had to take care of that look. Throughout their time alone, he honestly didn’t feel Cas’ absence: his damn doctor had vanished for nights and double-shifts often enough that a weekend without him didn’t feel like much of anything.
It wasn’t until Sam was out of the car and loping toward the bookstore and Dean was guiding the Impala back home to Cas that his stomach suddenly lurched with such anxiety and fear that he very nearly had to pull over. The jig was up: Sam was sane and calm and safe at work. Cas was back, as mysteriously as he’d left. And there was nowhere to go but home to him, and no overgrown brother to cower behind.
Love, sang Alice Cooper, is a loaded gun. And Cas had opened fire.
***
“Morning!” Ava chirped. Ava does not speak: she chirps, squacks, caws, and, on occasion, squees. At least, that’s how Andy described her. He said the sound of her voice made his eardrums hum, like a dog that could hear frequencies unknown to humans.
Sam thought she was sweet enough. She’d given him his job back after he’d crawled out of Rosemount. And told him she’d try and get him a raise in the next few months.
“Hey, Ava. Happy Monday.”
“I had the best weekend, Sam! We went to a fair and Brady won me a huge teddy bear and then bought us funnel cake. And halfway through it I started coughing and choking and ended up on the ground and he had to pick me up and give me the Heimlich and I puked and then landed in it and then found this!” She thrust her hand into his face revealing a sparkling diamond ring. “He’d laced it onto the end of the cake! Isn’t that adorable!”
Sam had thought Becky was too much. He smiled politely. “Congratulations.”
“Thanks! By the way-some blonde girl was around this weekend, asking for you. She said she’d swing by this morning. Can you work the information desk? We’ve had like, fifty people coming by asking why the books aren’t free to download electronically.”
“Joy,” Sam smiled.
“Yeah. I had Max working it but he kinda lost it.”
“Did the girl leave her name?”
“No. But she said you were a good friend. Actually, she said something kinda super uber creepy weird. She said you had a...common paternity.”
Sam stomach suddenly felt tighter. His heart sped up. He remembered Cas’ breathing tricks and kept himself steady. “That’s...weird.”
“Right? Look, she gives you trouble you let me know. Okay?”
“Sure. Thanks, Ava.”
The store was a chain, but this branch billed itself as a “Superstore” branch. Information was in the center, and functioned as a help desk for the electronic readers and a librarian station for looking up and ordering inventory. Sam really enjoyed working Information. He often got into long discussions with the customers, recommending books and authors to one another, and he personally enjoyed solving the tech issues of the little electronic readers. He far preferred it to working the registers, which often had long lines on weekends and frequently tested his stupidly shoddy nerves.
Sam had thrived on pressure. For years. He’d enjoyed the thrill of an academic or physical challenge-the worthy opponent he’d easily conquered. But recovery had weakened him. He was building back to his normal self, but then some stupid thing like a line on a Saturday would increase his heart rate, and he’d feel miles away from the old Sam, who could load his academic schedule to the brink and not need to rest, or go to group, or call his big brother to make sure Dean hadn’t been hit by a semi on his way to the garage and Cas hadn’t caught Ebola making his usual rounds.
The store opened at 9:30. Sam had just booted up the computer and was putting in a few special orders that had come in by e-mail when Ruby arrived, looking sweaty, pale, and downright pissed.
“Sam,” she said.
“Hey.” He smiled. She didn’t reciprocate. “Were you looking for me this weekend?”
“I’ve been looking for you since Thursday night.”
That horrid unease was back. “You okay?”
“No. No, I’m not. We need to have a talk. A nice. Long. Talk.”
“Well...I’m working. Can this wait until-”
“I know it was Dean, Sam.”
“Sorry?”
“I know what your brother did to Fitzgerald McCloud.”
Sam balked. Tried to cover. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yes you do. So we can do this here, in front of customers who could potentially serve as witnesses, or in private.”
Sam felt a lick of rage. If Dean felt Crowley didn’t get to slither around with his life in his back pocket, than Ruby didn’t get to march around with Dean’s life in hers.
“Come with me,” he said.
***
“I’m back!” Dean bellowed. Cas smiled, hearing his partner’s enthusiastic pounding on their stairs. He’d long ago given up trying to get Dean to take them one at a time, and at a decent human speed.
Cas had finished unpacking his duffel, showered, and dressed in a t-shirt and jeans while Dean had run Sam to work. Cas had offered to, but when Dean waved him off, he’d managed to pull the young man aside and thank him for his message.
“Please don’t allow things to change. I’m the one who was in the wrong.”
“No. If you and Dean get to share my mess, we share yours,” Sam had said, and smiled, shyly. “It’s good to see you, Cas.”
“You too, Sam.” He’d reached out and squeezed the younger man’s elbow. “Very good.”
Dean appeared in the doorway in his gray tee, jeans with the small hole above the right knee, and the ever-present necklace. “You didn’t wear a jacket?” Cas asked.
Dean snorted. “Dude, if anyone should be worried about bringing infectious diseases into this house, it’s you.”
Normally, they’d laugh at this. But with the alienation of the past few days, the attempted humor sank them both. Cas sighed and made his way around the bed.
“We need to talk, Dean.”
“I know,” Dean snapped. Then softened his tone. “I know.” He crossed the room and sank onto the edge of the mattress. Cas joined him. “I want to make this clear: I’m not sorry for what I did. But I am sorry I didn’t talk it over with you.”
“You were right.”
Dean frowned. “Come again?”
“Gabriel helped me understand a few things. About...my own emotional deficiencies.”
“Cas, don’t-”
“Hear me out.” Cas stared at the floor. “I was raised to believe the system could be trusted, because it always worked for my family. I realize now I wasn’t taking the enormous amount of privilege and influence that comes with my last name into account. I thought I’d seen past that.”
“It was a lot to have thrown at you.”
“It doesn’t excuse me leaving as I did. I know...abandonment is a tremendous fear we both share.”
Dean’s breath hitched a bit. “If I’d explained myself better, maybe this could have been avoided. I know...I can get defensive. Of Sam. Sometimes I...lose sight of everything else. Everyone else.”
Cas reached nervously over and lay his fingers on Dean’s thigh. When he didn’t pull away, he chanced resting his whole palm. “I’ve been pulled so deep into work I’ve lost sight of myself many times. I realized...with Gabe, as close as we can be...without you and Sam, a large part of myself ceases to exist. I become something of an...automatan.”
“Man,” Dean snorted, “you are such a geek.”
“What?”
“Most of us plebs would say robot. You go with ‘automaton.’”
“Would you prefer avatar?”
“If I come home and you’re decked out in blue and white face paint...that’s it. That’s a kink I’m not willing to try explore.”
“Oh?” Cas raised his hand and, a little shyly, ran it along Dean’s ear. Dean closed his eyes and shivered ever so slightly. “So...while we’re unknotting this particular kink in our relationship, are there, perhaps, others we should…’evaluate’?”
He may be shy, but Dean certainly wasn’t. The next thing Cas knew he was half-tossed backward onto the bed, Dean over him, pinning his hands over his head.
“I know a few of yours,” Dean murmured, and ducked out of Cas’ vision to scrape his teeth along the side of his throat, causing Cas to let out his usual mortifying, girliegiggle. “And because of your labcoat, I never have to worry about hickies.”
“Don’t you have-” another, mortifying laugh as Dean’s teeth scraped lower. “Work?”
“Switched my shift from two to ten. And I checked your blackberry: you’re not on until three. And if you were really worried, you wouldn’t have worn that white shirt before you’d dried off, and you know it.”
Cas felt himself blush-Dean was the first person to ever bring that out of him, and he knew, for a fact, that it was one of Dean’s turn-ons. Same with Cas’ still damp hair. And yes: white t-shirts.
“Maybe I know you better than I thought,” he said, as Dean eased up with the teeth and used his lips along his throat. “Maybe...I missed you. A lot.”
Dean kissed under Cas’ chin, his cheek, his forehead, and then pulled back to bore into him with those dark green eyes. “Dude. You ever take off like that again...”
“I’ll need you to find me.” Dean tilted his head slightly. “I’ll need you to remind me where I belong.”
“Well,” Dean huffed, “there’s an upside to it.”
“And that would be?”
Dean’s eyes glittered. “Now I get to win you back.”
***
“I don’t think you understand what your brother did, Sam,” Ruby snapped, pacing the back office. “McCloud...or, as we called him, Crowley, sustained us. Many of us. And you, with your stupid little dependencies and your desperate attempts to justify them, don’t get to moralize.”
Sam too her in symptoms: sweat, shakes, palor, and knew them all too well. “You’re still using,” he said.
“I never stopped,” Ruby snapped. “I was under court-order to go to jail or treatment, and I chose treatment. And Crowley, as you called him, was the only person who understood. Who came to sit in on groups and attend my family therapy sessions. Who brought me what I needed.”
“Ruby, he used us.”
“No, Sam. He used you. Me? He gave me a chance. To build a life of my own. To build trust among those who mattered. To have a bank account full of money and a home with heat and hot water. And you and that dumbass brother of yours decided it wasn’t good enough.”
“You need help,” Sam said softly. Ruby shivered. “You’re not thinking straight. Ruby, I remember. You were a good friend to Lily. You came by and visited when I was on bed rest. You have to know this isn’t where you want to be.”
“This is my family, Sam.”
“No, they’re not.”
“Spare me the come-to-Jesus talk. I’m not the only one who’s sick right now. There’s dozens of us, and it’s on you.”
“Let me take you to Rosemount. I’ll talk to Alan for you.”
“I don’t want to get better, Sam! This is better for me! I’m not stuck in that house with the stepfather who raped me and the mother who let him! I have my own home where the lights don’t go out and the hot water is always there and I don’t have to hunt for change on the street. I have a damn cat.”
Her voice hitched. Sam tried to touch her arm but she yanked away. “No! No one else gets to tell me what the ‘right’ way is. This is what works for me. And I’m gonna get Fitzgerald off the hook. And we’ll make sure your brother pays.”
“I’m not gonna let you hurt my family, Ruby.”
“Who said anything about them?” Ruby gave a cocky grin, even as a bead of sweat rolled down from her temple. “If I were you...I’d watch your salt shakers. Never know when something else might be in them.”
Sam felt heat fill his face. “You sold to them?”
“Please. Halfway houses are gold mines.” She glared. “You enjoy riding that high horse while you can. Because it’s not gonna last. There’s no getting out. It’s a matter of time before you go down again. And when you do, don’t come knocking at my door for your fix.”
She tossed her hair and took off. Sam could see her shaking was getting worse, and her hands were twitching with early spasms. If she didn’t get what she needed soon, she’d be flat on her back, in terrible pain, and too weak to help herself. He couldn’t bring himself to hate her, even now-having gone through two weeks of withdrawal and its after-effects, he didn’t have it in him to hate anyone who had to face it.
But he’d go to hell before he’d let her hurt Dean. Even if it meant publically announcing his degradation at the hands of Crowley. He’d live the humiliation. He would not live with his brother behind bars.
He wouldn’t live, at all, without Dean.
***
Sam didn’t have it in him to eat lunch, but he bought a sandwich anyway, because he knew Dean would ask about what he ate and he’d promised to stop lying. It was easier to choke down a sandwich than listen to his brother’s lectures on the importance of eating. When Dean got going, not even Cas’ placating could reel him back in.
Like clockwork, Sam finished his sandwich, and Sam’s cell rang with “Dean” on the caller ID. He smiled. If there was anything he loved about recovery, it was that he no longer dreaded his brother’s check-ins.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hey. You eat?”
“Turkey on wheat.”
“With mayo?”
“Tomato.”
“It’s too dry.”
“It’s my lunch, Dean.”
“Whatever. Hold on. I’m supposed to conference in Cas.” Dean promptly hung up on him. Sam clicked “end,” chuckling to himself. Dean was no idiot. Sam had known his brother was amazingly gifted ever since he was six and his Game Boy died. Dean had taken the machine down to pieces and used a sewing needle to rewire parts of it. Since then, Sam had seen him work magic on electrical sockets, televisions, pipes, fans, heaters, air conditioners, and of course, everything and anything the automotive industry produced. One of his fondest memories of Dean was his brother breaking into a neighbor’s and returning home with their fax machine while Sam raced to meet his college application deadlines and their computer froze. Dean deconstructed the fax machine, opened up the belly of the PC, and the next thing Sam knew, his applications were merrily printing away to the song of the fax. Dean even returned the machine to its rightful place before dawn.
But Dean’s genius stopped just short of actually using what he repaired-things like cell phones, e-mail attachments, copy machines, and digital cable were utterly beyond him. Sure, he could take apart the remote and replace a broken circuit with a paperclip, but he couldn’t use the search menu to find COPS.
The phone rang again. “Hey,” Sam said.
“Sonofabitch,” Dean grumbled. “Okay, hang on.” Sam heard the obnoxiously loud sound of buttons being hit, and then the background noise of the garage. “Dean...you put me on speaker.”
“Cas?” Dean asked.
“No, Dean, it’s me! I’m on speaker!”
“Well get off, I’m trying to dial him in!”
“You put me on.”
“I did not. Hold on-” Dean hung up on him again.
The next time his phone rang, it was Cas on the caller ID.
“Hello, Sam. I told him to let me do it,” Cas greeted him. “Hold on, let me dial him.”
Sam’s phone beeped. He glanced at the screen. “Cas, he’s on my other line.”
“He called me a rather filthy name when I told him I should take care of it,” he said. Sam could hear his smile. “Would you please tell him to hang up and wait for my call?”
“Sure thing.” Sam switched over. “Dean, I’m on the other line with Cas. He said-”
“I can patch him in!” Dean barked. “Just because I’m not one of you college kids doesn’t mean I’m a moron. Hold on.”
“Dean, it won’t work. I’m on the other line with him.”
“Well then, hang up!”
“Hold on.” Sam switched back to Cas. “He wants you to hang up.”
“Of course he does. He’s calling me now. Hold on...I’ll conference him in. Don’t tell him.”
Dean’s swearing had escalated. “Cas? Hang up with Sam!”
“We’re here, Dean. You did it.”
“Cas?”
“Here.”
“Cas!”
“Dean, I’m on the line.”
“Someone say something!”
“Dean, Cas and I are both on the line!” Sam called.
“Godamnit, I told you to hang up-no it’s not a customer-this is what happens when you don’t think I can do something!”
“He put us on mute,” Cas chuckled to Sam. Dean swore again and hung up. “Hold on. I’ll dial him.”
“Is everything alright? I mean...this isn’t the ‘we’re getting a divorce talk,’ is it?”
“No, no, Sam, please don’t worry. Everything’s fine. Dean and I are both working tonight, and given the stress of the past few days, we thought it would be good for the three of us to check-in, that’s all.” Sam heard the sound of buttons being hit. “You can always call us if you need to, of course.”
“You’re gonna stay?”
“Yes. I’m sorry I left. I regret it now. I won’t do it again. Not like that.”
Dean arrived on the line, still swearing. “-then I’m gonna pull out its little intestines and-Cas! Call Sam!”
“I’m here, Dean.”
“Well it’s about friggin’ time you two got it together. Sam, we’re having Bobby and Ellen over for dinner tomorrow and we want you there.”
“You can bring Andy if you’d like,” Cas supplied. “I’ll be making my chicken marsala.”
“The hell you will. You told me you’d fry it!”
“Sam likes it marsala style. So do Ellen and I.”
“Well, Andy and Bobby and I like fried things. And since we three could take you three, we get to fry it.”
“Cas, how about chicken parm? We all like that. If you call Alan and Missouri, I can skip group and help you cook it,” Sam said.
“That would be wonderful. Thank you, Sam. Ellen said she’d bring dessert.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m the big bad brother and boyfriend. Whatever. Sammy, you having a good day?”
“Sure.” Sam’s stomach rolled. He wanted, badly, to tell Dean about Ruby, to hear his reassurance. But hearing Dean and Cas teasing one another, he could feel their renewed affection, and the happiness it brought them both. When they’d first met Cas, he clearly mistook their banter for fighting, and frequently attempted to intervene. Now that he knew more about Cas’ background, it was clear how little, if any affection was ever shown, and there was no such thing as playful banter: only arguing.
It made Sam sad just to think of. Dean had never left Sam wanting for affection. His brother wasn’t a cuddler or hugger or one to say “I love you,” but he never denied his brother when Sam felt compelled to grab on to him, and, when he really needed it, Dean was always willing to drop his own inhibitions and hold him, or ruffle his hair, or let Sam lean on his shoulder. He’d always made it clear that Sam’s job was to be Sam, and Dean’s job was to protect that Sam.
Sam had assumed that Cas’ big brothers had been the same. Although the thought of four Deans was more than a little overwhelming, he couldn’t imagine Cas had ever wanted for affection, or protection, or guidance and acceptance.
It’d been a wakeup call to see otherwise. And it made Sam see what Dean must have seen in those early days: a vulnerable, emotionally repressed man who wanted to belong to a peaceful home as much as they did.
“What are you on?” Dean’s voice jolted him out of his thoughts.
“Nothing! Dean, just my usual-the valium at night, and Effexor in the morning, and-”
“He means at work, Sam,” Cas soothed. “He means, are you working the register today? Inventory? Information?”
Sam felt heat in his face. “Oh. Right. Right, sure. Information. I’m at the information desk.”
A long time ago, Sam wouldn’t have questioned what they meant. He wouldn’t have stuttered and repeated himself. A long time ago, Sam was going to go to law school. He had a girlfriend who left him sweet notes and made cookies and made him take breaks when he stretched himself to exhaustion. He wouldn’t have touched drugs or drank too much or forced Dean and Cas to wake up and check their smoke alarms, their heart rates, their door locks.
“That’s your favorite.” Dean’s voice was gentle, reassuring. The dialect of ‘Sam’s sick/hurt/scared/nervous.’
“Yeah. It’s good. Ava...Ava got engaged.”
“Oh, Christ. I am so not your plus one to that.”
“I’m kind of hoping she won’t invite me.”
“Have Chuck and Becky officially announced?” Cas asked.
“Dude, you think they would and we wouldn’t of heard Becky’s air-rade siren?” Dean asked.
“I suppose not.”
“Are you two alright?” Sam interrupted.
“Of course,” Cas said, at the same time Dean said “we’re good.”
“I’m on until ten tonight, Sammy,” Dean explained. “But if you need me after group you call, okay?”
“And I’ll be on rounds until at least midnight, but if you need to, please call,” Cas assured him.
“You know...I’m here for you two. Too,” Sam said.
“I know-”
“Of course-”
“We’re a team, not just-”
“We rely on you too, so-”
Sam smiled as Dean and Cas stumbled over one another. “Okay. So, we’re all good?”
“We’re damn fine,” Dean declared. Then swore. “I’m on the-not with-yeah, well, I don’t take lunch, so-damnit! The bald asshat is making me go! Cas, sign me off-yeah, I mean you, Jay! Cas! Log me off!”
“Just hang up,” Cas said.
“If there’s a bill for this three-way, you’re paying,” Dean snapped. “Yeah, I’m coming!” he roared, and then the phone clicked off. Sam couldn’t stop his laughter.
“You sure you want to grow old with him, Cas? He’s in his prime now. Imagine how he’ll be at eighty.”
“From what I understand, many elder communities allow spouses to live on separate floors.” Sam could feel his smile. “Sam. I...your message meant a great deal to me. I wanted to come home already. But...Gabriel, and you, convinced me I was right in doing so.”
Sam thinks of Ruby’s threat and his stomach drops. “Cas...I know I’m a mess. I know I’ve hurt you. I know I-”
“If I could go back in time, I’d be with Dean in that alley,” his breath hitched. “Sam. You’re a brother to me. I won’t leave you and Dean again. I mean it. I’ve told him, I’m telling you. Forgive me.”
Sam’s throat was too swollen with feeling to speak. He took a few deep breaths, swallowed hard, and nodded, even if Cas couldn’t see. “S’okay,” he murmured. “S’okay, Cas. I really-”
“I’m here with you and Dean now. For good. I won’t leave him. Or you.”
Sam had sworn he wouldn’t lie again. But, hearing Cas and Dean’s joyful reassurances, he just didn’t have the heart to bring in Ruby. To bring in Crowley. To bring in all his own insanity. They’d given him all he needed to be strong. And he had been, damnit. Once upon a time. He wasn’t going to let them lose one another-or themselves-anymore.
“We missed you,” he said. And left it at that.
***
Cas hung up with the Winchester brothers feeling a distinctive unease. He wasn’t sure why-he no longer doubted his relationship with Dean. He’d reaffirmed his brotherhood with Sam. He’d felt a peace, and security, that he hadn’t felt since the night he’d taken Dean for burgers.
He was passing by the nurse’s station when he remembered there was a world outside their little co-dependent trinity.
“I don’t care what you thought, I care what you did, and it wasn’t what I ordered!” Balthazzar barked at a nurse who looked ready to take a swing at him.
“That is what you ordered, doctor. I can show you the request.”
“You think I would make a mistake like this?”
“Given that you haven’t slept in seventy-two hours? Yes.”
“You-you probably went to night-school. You probably have an associate’s degree from an online university. I went to Oxford. I went to Cambridge. I interned at Harvard University Medical Center, and-”
“And we are so grateful for your patience,” Cas said quickly, pulling Peter away from the desk. The nurse was fully ready to launch into a tirade as Cas wrestled his friend away. “We understand the unreasonable attitude that comes with sleep deprivation.”
“You just get him the hell away from my station,” she hissed.
“I will. I’m very sorry,” Cas wasn’t the strongest of the strong, but he managed to wrestle Peter into an empty room and shut the door. “This isn’t like you.”
“Where the hell have you been?” Balthazzar snapped. “You were supposed to work the weekend.”
“I had a...family emergency.”
“Sam off the wagon, is he?”
“Don’t talk about Sam.” Cas hadn’t meant it to sound like it did, but once it was out, he couldn’t regret it. He’d had enough of people targeting his family’s weaknesses.
“Well, whatever drama you had dealt, perhaps you forgot my friend was in hospital? And perhaps, missed the news stories on his extracurricular activities?”
Cas looked away. “I saw them.”
“Right. And you, at no point, thought you should reach out to me.”
“Peter-”
“No, no, it was no big deal. I only learned one of my good friends was, in fact, a thief, fraud, dealer, and conman, and chose to confide such information in you. It’s not like I’d hope you’d be a sounding board or anything. God forbid I interrupt your weekend.”
“You could have called me.”
“You could have called me.”
Cas’ heart sank. “It’s...complicated. But I’m here now. I am-”
“You know, I understand your social limitations. I do. But I would think, as a doctor, even you would understand this: it doesn’t matter if you’re there after the wound’s bled out. You’re needed the moment the blood starts gushing.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Of course you are.” Peter grabbed the door and yanked it open. “But you know what? Now I have to do something that I loathe. I have to search my soul and evaluate my relationships. And to be frank, yours isn’t at the top of my list.”
“Please...hear me out.”
“Can you bring who did this to justice? Can you correct whatever deformity is in my character that I didn’t recognize I was drinking with a snake?”
Cas had to break his friend’s gaze. “I’m...sorry. I had a difficult weekend. Dean-”
“Yes, I know. Sam and Dean can’t zip up their flies or change their own diapers. I’ve heard the stories, I’ve sent the gift baskets, and I’ve covered your shifts. Maybe I made a mistake in thinking that made us a little more than colleagues.”
“No. Peter-”
“I’m going home. I need to sleep. Well, first I need to drink, and then I’m going to sleep. Do me a favor? Don’t match our schedules for awhile.”
“Peter-”
“Goodnight, Dr. Morgan.”
Cas watched his friend disappear around the corner, and then walked to the nurse’s station. After all, he had rounds.
Part II