A Cord of Three Strands
A Cord of Three Strands
Author: enigmaticblue
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I don’t own these characters; too bad, so sad.
Pairings/Characters: Dean/Jimmy, Sam, Bobby
Spoilers: A sequel to What Is Twisted Cannot Be Straightened, and for 6.12, “Like a Virgin”
Word Count: ~11,000
Summary: “Though one may be overpowered, two can defend themselves. A cord of three strands is not quickly broken.” ~Ecclesiastes 4:12
A/N: This is technically something of a Christmas fic, but I didn’t get to it until now, so it’s a bit late.
Sam wakes gradually, his mind a pleasant, drowsy blank at first. He blinks and turns his head slowly, immediately recognizing arcane symbols on the walls of Bobby’s panic room. He’s woken up here before, after all, and he takes one breath and then another, trying to remember how he’d come to be there.
His last memory is of Dean’s battered face, and of the Impala, right before he’d fallen backwards, consigning Lucifer to Hell.
He shifts on the thin mattress of the Army cot and is relieved that he’s not restrained, although he feels the dull burn of an IV line in his arm. A glance at the bag above his head suggests that it’s a saline drip, and Sam carefully pulls it out, pushing himself up, and swinging his legs over the side.
Sam’s wearing different clothes than he did at Stull, and he’s feeling a little lightheaded, his head aching, his empty stomach twisting.
He stands up slowly, tugging at his flannel shirt, waiting for a moment until he’s certain his legs will hold him, and then he tries the door, which is unlocked. Apparently, they’re not too worried about him getting out, although Sam has no idea where his brother is.
Usually, Dean is right there, waiting for him to wake up.
Sam makes his way out of the panic room and up the stairs to the main floor of Bobby’s house, keeping hold of the handrail all the way up. The cold, damp air of the basement suggests that the weather outside is at least chilly, but he has no other indication of how much time has passed, or even what time of day it is.
When Sam enters the kitchen, he’s surprised to see Dean and Bobby sitting at the kitchen table with Castiel, who’s wearing a gray t-shirt and jeans, instead of his usual suit, tie, and trench coat.
Sam could have sworn that he’d watched Bobby and Cas die.
“Hey,” Sam manages. “Dean.”
Dean stands, and Sam surges forward, wrapping his arms around Dean with a sense of profound gratitude. After a moment, Dean returns the embrace, his arms tightening around Sam.
Dean pulls back, and he smiles wearily. “Hey, Sammy. How are you feeling?”
“Fine,” Sam replies. He’s a little surprised when Bobby and Cas get up and make no move towards Sam. He takes a step towards Bobby, who won’t quite meet Sam’s eyes.
“Glad you’re okay,” Bobby says gruffly and leaves the kitchen.
Cas touches Dean’s shoulder, and Sam sees that his wrists are swathed in white gauze. “Call if you need me.”
Cas leaves, and Sam frowns. “Dean? How long was I down there?”
“Down where?” Dean hedges.
“The basement,” Sam replies. “Bobby’s panic room.”
Dean hesitates. “What’s the last thing you remember?”
“The field,” Sam replies. “Cas and Bobby were killed. Who brought them back? I don’t understand.”
Dean smiles, but the expression looks forced. “It’s a long story.”
Sam frowns, sensing an undercurrent that he can’t quite figure out. “Are you okay?”
Dean doesn’t exactly answer him. “It’s good to have you back,” Dean replies evasively. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
Sam shrugs. “I’m starving, actually.”
“That can be fixed,” Dean replies, this time with a smile that reaches his eyes. “I’ll make you a sandwich.”
Sam sits down, watching as Dean rummages in the fridge. “Do you want a beer?” Dean asks.
“I’d take one,” Sam admits.
Dean twists the cap off a bottle and puts it in front of Sam. “Here you go.”
Sam turns the bottle and asks cautiously, “What happened with Bobby and Cas?”
Dean glances at him, and seems to hesitate before he says, “Something or someone brought Cas back, and he healed Bobby.”
“How long ago was that?” Sam asks, wondering if the passage of time accounts for the strangeness.
Dean hesitates. “Over a year and a half now.”
Sam frowns, trying to absorb that information. He has no idea how he could have been gone for so long and yet not remember anything. “How did you get me out?” Sam asks warily. “Did Cas do it?”
“Cas doesn’t have anything to do with it,” Dean snaps angrily.
Sam stares at him. “But he was just-wasn’t he just here?” he asks uncertainly.
Dean lets out a bark of laughter that holds little humor. “Sorry, I forgot you didn’t know. That was Jimmy, not Cas. Castiel has a new vessel.”
“Okay,” Sam says slowly. “I didn’t know Jimmy was hunting now.”
Dean turns and faces Sam with a defiant expression, leaning back against the counter, his face half in shadow, even in the midafternoon light streaming into the kitchen. “We’re together, Sammy.”
Sam nods. “Oh, you’re hunting together?”
Dean makes a sound that expresses his impatience. “No, we’re together. I guess you’d call him my boyfriend.”
Sam can tell from Dean’s expression that Dean expects him to react poorly, and so Sam maintains a completely neutral expression. “Oh. That’s-that’s good. Is it good?”
The smile that Dean offers in response is real, his eyes lighting up in a way Sam knows is genuine. “Yeah. It’s good.”
Sam nods. “Then I’m happy for you.”
Dean chuckles, and the sound holds real humor this time. “Thanks.”
“What about Castiel?” Sam asks carefully, feeling as though he’s on ground littered with landmines.
“Castiel has a new vessel,” Dean replies. “Like I said. He’s been helpful, but I don’t trust him right now.” Dean makes a face. “I should say that I don’t trust her.”
“The vessel is a woman?” Sam asks.
Dean shrugs. “Long story. I’ll tell you about it one of these days. You sure you’re okay?”
Sam isn’t quite sure how to respond, since that’s the third time Dean’s asked some variation of that question, and he seems to expect some other response than the one Sam keeps giving him. “Fine. Just a little confused, I guess, but otherwise, I’m okay.”
“What’s confusing?” Dean asks, putting a plate with a sandwich in front of Sam.
“How you got me out of hell, for one,” Sam says, taking a huge bite.
Dean shrugs. “I made a bet with Death, and it paid off. And before you say it, it’s not anything I haven’t heard before. Jimmy wasn’t happy with me either.”
“That’s how you got me out?” Sam asks incredulously. “You made a deal with Death?”
Dean shakes his head, suddenly appearing older and wearier than Sam can ever remember him looking. “Someone else retrieved your body; I just made sure you had your soul.”
“What does that mean?” Sam demands.
Dean rubs his eyes. “It means that you’re back, that you’re in one piece, and that you really need to not try to remember, Sam. Death put up a wall to make sure you don’t remember your time in the Cage.”
“And if I do?” Sam asks, his heart in his throat.
“Then he couldn’t guarantee your sanity, or your continued well being,” Dean replies. “Promise you won’t try. What I did-what I had to do-wouldn’t mean a whole lot if I lost you now.”
Sam nods. “I promise. I won’t try.”
Dean nods, appearing relieved. “Good, that’s good. It’s nice to have you back, Sam. I’ll be right back,” he says, and then he disappears.
Sam watches him go, and he feels as though he’s missed far more than a year and a half; he feels as though he’s missed a lifetime, as though he’s Rip Van Winkle, awake after twenty years asleep.
He stares at his sandwich, and has no idea what to do with the reality awaiting him.
~~~~~
Sam eats another two sandwiches before he’s satisfied, and he’s on his second beer when he finally joins Dean in Bobby’s study. Bobby and Jimmy have their heads bent together over an ancient tome, but they both glance up when Sam enters the room.
“Sam, you remember Jimmy,” Dean says by way of introduction, lounging in a chair next to Jimmy, their knees bumping.
Sam nods, the stark white gauze on Jimmy’s wrists catching his attention again. “Hey.”
“Sam,” Jimmy replies, his voice perfectly neutral. “How are you feeling?”
“Not too bad.” Sam shifts uncomfortably under Bobby’s suspicious gaze and Jimmy’s blank expression. “It’s nice to see you again.”
Jimmy nods stiffly. “Yeah.” He stands up. “I need to call Claire.”
Sam frowns, remembering the young blonde girl, who had briefly served as Castiel’s vessel. “Your daughter, right? How is she?”
Jimmy looks surprised. “She’s doing well, thank you for asking.”
“Tell her I said hello,” Dean says. “And we’ll see her for Christmas.”
“Are you sure?” Jimmy asks, glancing at Sam with a dubious expression.
Dean nods. “Very sure. It’s still okay, isn’t it, Bobby?”
“It doesn’t matter to me,” Bobby replies gruffly.
Sam feels a little lost. “Christmas?”
“It’s in a couple of weeks, and Claire wanted to spend the holiday with Jimmy,” Dean explains. “That okay with you?”
“Yeah, sure,” Sam agrees, bewildered. “Why wouldn’t it be?”
Dean shrugs. “No reason.”
Jimmy won’t quite meet Sam’s eyes. “I’ll let Claire know,” he says as he slips out of the room.
“I’ve got a few things to do in the yard,” Bobby announces, and he leaves without so much as a glance in Sam’s direction.
Sam watches him leave and asks, “Is there something I should know about?”
“You weren’t yourself,” Dean says with finality. “Don’t worry about it.”
Sam knows there’s more to it than that, but he’s well aware that there’s no getting Dean to talk about something until he’s good and ready. “You and Jimmy-you’re pretty serious, huh?”
“We’re serious,” Dean agrees. “And Claire’s a good kid. You’ll like her.”
“I liked her the last time we met,” Sam replies. “You sound like you’ve gotten attached.”
“Maybe I have,” Dean replies defensively. “So what?”
Sam has no idea where Dean’s hostility is coming from. “So, nothing. If you’re happy, I’m happy.”
Dean’s shoulders sag. “Yeah, sorry. I just-Jimmy’s had a hard time, you know? I don’t want to make things harder on him than they have to be.”
Sam touches his own wrist. “Did he-?”
Dean shakes his head. “It’s not what you’re thinking. They’re stigmata. And just so you know, he can heal people, but it takes a lot out of him, so be careful around him.”
There’s a weight to Dean’s words that suggests whatever Sam had done in the past, he hadn’t been as careful of Jimmy as Dean would like. “I will be, Dean,” he promises.
Dean smiles. “Thanks. I should go talk to Bobby. Rest up, huh? You’ve got a lot of sleep to catch up on.”
Sam isn’t tired, but he sits down at the table and pages through the book that Bobby and Jimmy had been reading. It’s some kind of reference book, talking about heavenly weapons, and he wonders what it’s all about.
~~~~~
Sam has always felt at home at Bobby’s house; he’d spent enough time there as a kid to view it as a second home after the Impala.
And he’s never been so uncomfortable.
Two days after he wakes up in the panic room, Bobby still looks at him with distrust, and Jimmy can’t seem to handle even being in the same room as him. He finds a reason to disappear any time Sam is around.
Sam would like to talk to him, to get to know him a little better, given how close he and Dean seem to be. Jimmy’s making it really difficult, though.
Sam comes around the corner towards the study on the second night and stops cold when he spots Dean and Jimmy. Dean’s got his arms loosely around Jimmy’s waist, and Jimmy’s face is pressed against the side of Dean’s neck.
He backs up, knowing better than to eavesdrop, but too curious to do anything else.
“It can be just the two of us,” Dean is saying.
“And how are you going to explain that?” Jimmy asks in a low voice. “I’ll be fine. I could always stay behind.”
“I told you, we’re not splitting up,” Dean says, keeping his voice low, but his tone is heated.
Jimmy pulls back. “That was different. That was before.”
“It’s no different now,” Dean says. “You’re still my partner, and Sam’s my brother. You’ll like him once you really get to know him.”
As Sam glances around the corner, Jimmy presses his lips to Dean’s hungrily, and it’s more than a little strange to watch his brother kiss a man, but Dean looks like he’s enjoying himself.
Sam looks away as the kiss goes on, unable to watch what is obviously a very intimate moment between them.
“For your sake,” Jimmy promises. “We don’t have to have Christmas, Dean.”
“I promised Claire,” Dean replies. “So yeah, we do. We do this job, and we pick Claire up, and then we have Christmas with the four of us.”
Jimmy chuckles. “What on earth did you say to Amelia to get her to agree?”
“I told her that this would be the first Christmas in decades that my family would be together, and I wanted the same for you,” Dean replies. “She agreed pretty quick when I put it that way.”
“I think she likes you better than she likes me,” Jimmy says wryly.
Sam frowns, wondering why Jimmy’s wife-or his ex-wife at this point-would like Dean better. Hell, for that matter, he wonders how Dean had wound up with Jimmy. It’s like he hadn’t even tried to get out of the hunting business.
Maybe he hadn’t.
“Well, I wasn’t married to her, remember?” Dean asks, sounding amused. “I guarantee she wouldn’t like me half as much if she had to live with me.”
“I don’t know,” Jimmy replies. “I live with you, and I like you just fine.”
“That’s probably because you’re crazy,” Dean says affectionately. There’s another long pause, and Sam leans his head against the wall in the hallway, knowing what they’re likely doing. “You sure you’re okay with this?”
“I’ll be fine,” Jimmy says. “Just-don’t leave us alone together, all right?”
Sam slips away after that, not staying to hear Dean’s response. He has no idea what he’d done to Jimmy, but his stomach twists with dismay.
He’d liked Jimmy, and he doesn’t like the thought that he’d hurt someone and can’t even remember it.
If he can’t ask Jimmy what he’s done, he’ll try to corner Bobby.
Bobby doesn’t look pleased to see Sam when he finds him outside, working on a car engine. “Yeah? What is it you need?”
“What happened?” Sam demands. “What did I do?”
Bobby gives him a disgruntled look. “I’m not the one you should be asking that.”
“Dean won’t answer my questions, and Jimmy won’t stay in the same room as me,” Sam replies. “Hell, you won’t even look at me.”
Bobby snorts. “You didn’t much want your soul back, and you didn’t care about the collateral damage. I’ll get over it.”
“What about Jimmy?” Sam presses.
Bobby sighs. “Don’t you dare tell your brother that I told you, hear me?”
Sam nods.
“You let Dean get turned by a vampire, and Jimmy nearly killed himself healing him,” Bobby says briefly. “Dean’ll forgive you, because you’re his brother, but Jimmy’s not going to trust you any time soon.”
Sam swallows. “And you?”
Bobby adjusts his hat. “I’m not kicking you out, am I?”
That’s not much of an answer, but Sam knows better than to push Bobby when he doesn’t want to be pushed. “I’m sorry,” he says helplessly, even though he’s not entirely clear what he’d done.
“You weren’t yourself,” Bobby replies, echoing Dean’s words. “Go on now. Get out of here.”
Sam leaves, wandering back into the house, standing in the hallway, as uncertain as he’s ever been. He’s not sure that he belongs here; he’s not sure he belongs in Dean’s life.
He’d wanted Dean to move on, to find happiness apart from Sam, and now that he has, Sam doesn’t know whether he and Dean fit together anymore.
Dean has always been the one thing Sam could count on, and now…
He wishes he could remember the last year.
“You okay?”
Sam blinks, seeing Dean at the end of the hallway, looking at him with concern. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he replies, remembering his promise to Bobby.
“We have a job,” Dean says. “You up for it? If not, you can stay here.”
Sam isn’t sure which would be worse-staying with Bobby, who won’t look at him, or riding in a car with Dean and Jimmy, when Jimmy can’t stand to be in the same room with Sam.
“Is Jimmy going to be okay with that?” Sam asks.
“Jimmy will be fine,” Dean replies. “You two just have to get to know each other is all.”
Sam shakes his head. “Oh, is that all?”
Dean nods. “Yeah, that’s all,” he says, like saying so makes it true.
Sam wishes it worked that way.
~~~~~
When they leave Bobby’s, Jimmy climbs into the backseat before Sam can protest, saying only, “Your legs are longer.”
In the passenger seat, Sam can almost believe that nothing has changed, that it’s Cas in the backseat, riding with them again.
Almost. The silence in the Impala isn’t the comfortable quiet Sam’s used to sharing with Dean.
Jimmy takes a call after they’ve been on the road a few hours, and Dean automatically turns down the music. “Hey, baby,” he says.
It takes Sam a second to realize that Jimmy’s talking to Claire.
“No, I’m good,” Jimmy replies. “Have you had any more dreams?”
Sam stays quiet, listening to the one-sided conversation.
“Right after we’re done with this job, I promise,” Jimmy says. “We’ll spend Christmas together. Sound good?”
“Let me talk to her,” Dean says.
Jimmy holds up a hand. “Yeah, we’re fine. Dean wants to say hello.” He passes the phone up to Dean, and Sam blinks as Dean says warmly, “Hey, kiddo. How are you?”
Dean doesn’t say much, just listens with apparent enjoyment to whatever Claire’s telling him, and Sam realizes that Dean had really done it-he’d found a life for himself with Sam gone, even if it’s not the life Sam had envisioned for him.
Eventually, Dean says, “All right, I’m giving you back to your dad now. I’ll see you soon.”
Jimmy takes the phone back and leans against the door, stretching out sideways in the backseat. “I’ll call before I show up,” Jimmy promises.
There’s a pause, and he says, “No, this job isn’t going to keep us away. If I have to, I’ll fly back.”
“You’re not going to have to fly back,” Dean insists. “I’ll get you back in time.”
“You hear that?” Jimmy asks. “You know Dean keeps his promises.” Sam can see his grin in the rearview mirror. “Love you, too.”
Dean glances over his shoulder. “Winter formal, huh?”
“Shut up,” Jimmy says without heat.
Dean laughs. “She’ll run rings around the boys, especially after we get through with her.”
“Go easy, Dean,” Jimmy warns him. “If Amelia finds out-”
“Claire isn’t going to tell her, and neither will we,” Dean replies.
Sam gives Dean a questioning look. “What’s up?”
“Amelia doesn’t want Claire exposed to hunting,” Dean explains. “So, we have to keep it quiet, okay?”
Sam nods. “Yeah, sure, you got it. Not a problem.”
Dean smiles. “Good. We’ll stop for the night soon.”
Sam clears his throat. “Uh, one room or two?”
There’s a long, awkward silence, and Jimmy says softly, “We should probably save money where we can.”
“It’s okay,” Sam replies quickly. “Whatever you want to do.”
“Long as you don’t mind us sharing a bed,” Dean replies, a challenge in his voice.
Sam smiles, playing it off as a joke. “Well, I’m not sharing with either one of you, so that works out fine.”
Dean mock-glares. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying that you kick, and from what I remember, Jimmy steals the covers,” Sam replies.
Dean lets out a bark of laughter. “He’s right about that much, Jimmy.”
A glance at the backseat, and Sam can see Jimmy hiding a smile. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Jimmy insists.
“Sure you don’t,” Dean teases. “Anybody hungry?”
“Starved,” Sam replies.
“Same,” Jimmy agrees.
Dean nods, looking pleased. “Food and beds, coming right up.”
Sam feels as though he’s making some progress. At least it’s a decent start.
It’s another hour before they stop for food, but the silence feels more comfortable now. Dean stops at a diner for his usual fare, and Sam is amused when neither of them even glance at the menu, and Dean orders for the both of them.
Sam orders the chicken club with a side salad as a marginally healthier option, but he has to admit that it’s a comfort to know that some things haven’t changed.
Dean might have a partner-he might even have a boyfriend-but he still orders a burger when he has a choice.
Jimmy and Dean both scarf their burgers and fries quickly, and Sam’s leg gets jostled often enough that he suspects they’re playing footsie under the table.
Sam doesn’t mind, though, especially seeing the secretive glances they keep exchanging. If he’d needed confirmation, he has it.
Dean’s happy with Jimmy; Jimmy is happy with him. Dean somehow has a step-daughter, or the closest thing to it. Sam just hopes there’s still enough room in Dean’s life for him.
When they’ve cleaned their plates, Dean wipes his mouth with a napkin and calls for the check. “You okay with heading out from here?”
“Yeah, sure,” Jimmy agrees, following Dean’s example.
“Sam?” Dean prompts.
Sam chases the least bit of dressing on his plate with a stray piece of lettuce and puts his fork down. “Ready.”
There’s a motel next to the diner, and Dean checks in, leaving Jimmy and Sam in the car together. “I hope this isn’t too awkward,” Sam says, the night pressing down on him, even in the glare of the street lamps.
“It doesn’t have to be,” Jimmy replies. “I want us to get along. It’s important to Dean.”
“Same here,” Sam says. “Whatever I did before I got my soul back, I’m sorry.”
“It’s forgotten,” Jimmy assures him.
Sam doesn’t think it’s going to be that easy, but he nods, grateful that Jimmy is willing to meet him halfway. “Thanks.”
Sharing a room isn’t as awkward as it might have been, mostly because Dean and Jimmy act more like a couple of friends instead of a couple. Even when they crawl into bed together, Sam notes that they leave a decorous six inches between them.
He drops off to sleep, waking with a gasp a few hours later from a fractured, chaotic nightmare tinged with red.
The light from the parking lot casts shadows on the walls, and Sam gulps in air, glancing over at Dean for reassurance.
Dean is curled around Jimmy now, and they’re so tangled up in each other that Sam can’t tell where one ends and the other begins.
Sam lies back down on the bed and closes his eyes, willing himself back to sleep.
~~~~~
Sam doesn’t believe in dragons, or he hadn’t until now, but the evidence fits-gold, virgins, giant bat-like flying creatures. Bobby’s expert is in California, though, and it makes sense for them to split up, with Dean and Jimmy heading south and Sam staying in Portland.
He feels a little bereft, even though he knows it’s foolish. Even if Jimmy weren’t around, they still would’ve divided the labor, and Sam would still have been alone. The difference now is that Dean isn’t alone, and Sam is.
He’s never really felt like a third wheel before, even when Dean had disappeared with a girl for a night-mostly because it had been one night.
Sam continues to work the case on his end, calling Bobby with what he’s learned. “Dragons live in caves,” he explains. “But there’s nothing around for miles.”
“Less literal, maybe,” Bobby suggests. “What else do you got that’s cold, dark, and wet?”
“Subway lines,” Sam replies, and then the solution hits him. “Maybe sewers. Thanks, Bobby.”
“How’s Dean?” Bobby asks, sounding deceptively nonchalant.
“I wouldn’t know,” Sam admits. “He and Jimmy went to see your friend down in California about a weapon.”
Bobby grunts. “Good luck to them.”
Sam feels the awkwardness between them. “Bobby, look-”
“Drop it, Sam,” Bobby advises him. “Don’t pick at it.”
Sam sighs. “Yeah, of course.”
“Good, because your brother went through hell trying to get you back, and so did we,” Bobby replies. “In this case, what you don’t know won’t hurt you. I’ll see you in a few days, huh?”
“See you then,” Sam promises.
He doesn’t have much to do but try to track down the dragons and wait for Dean and Jimmy to return-which they do in a little over a day and a half, with a sword, although Sam quickly gathers that things hadn’t quite turned out the way Dean expected.
“I still can’t believe it,” Dean grumbles as Jimmy places the sword on the small table in their motel room.
Jimmy grins smugly, crossing his arms over his chest, the sleeves of his t-shirt and jacket riding up just enough to reveal the white gauze. “Believe it.”
“I mean, why you and not me?” Dean protests with what could only be called a pout, as he throws himself on one of the beds.
“Because I’m pure of heart?” Jimmy suggests with a mischievous grin.
Dean snorts, but he doesn’t argue. “That doesn’t mean you’re going to be the one wielding it.”
“Sure it does,” Jimmy replies. “I was the one who pulled it out of the stone, and I was the one who promised Dr. Visyak that I’d bring it back in one piece.”
Sam grins. “Let me guess: she liked Jimmy better than she liked you.”
“Clearly, she has very poor taste,” Dean insists. “I’m pretty sure she dated Bobby at one point, so case in point.”
Jimmy snickers. “And if I asked Bobby, I’m sure he’d say that was evidence of her exquisite taste.”
Dean sneers. “Oooh, big word.”
Jimmy pats the sword in a proprietary manner. “I’ve got a few of those. I’ll bet Sam knows them.”
“I know them,” Dean protests. “And we’ve got dragons to kill, St. George.”
“Lead the way,” Jimmy says. “Or maybe Sam should lead the way.”
Sam grimaces apologetically. “Sorry, guys, but I think they’re in the sewers.”
“Wouldn’t be the worst place I’ve ever been,” Dean says philosophically.
He changes his tune an hour later when they’re still traipsing through dank tunnels and muck, and appear to be no closer to their goal. Even though Jimmy’s the one carrying the sword, Dean is in the lead, and Sam is bringing up the rear.
From what Dean has told Sam of Jimmy’s gifts, it makes sense to keep him safe in the middle.
“Ugh. Just when I think I’ve gotten used to the smell, I hit a new flavor,” Dean complains. “Are you sure they’re down here? Maybe the lore is wrong.”
“The lore isn’t wrong,” Sam insists. “There’s just a lot of sewer to search.”
“Hey,” Jimmy says suddenly, pointing off to the right. “Look.”
Sam turns his flashlight in that direction, and there’s a pile of gold illuminated by the thin beam of light, and behind the gold, an altar with a leather bound book.
“I think we’ve found our dragons,” Jimmy murmurs.
“Well, we’ve found where they’re living, anyway,” Sam agrees, running his hand over the cover of the book, which is bound in some kind of leather.
Dean picks up a gold watch from the pile and then starts to fill his pockets.
“Dude, we don’t have time for that,” Sam protests.
“We always have time for gold,” Dean replies with a grin.
“Hello? Is someone there?”
The girl’s voice causes all three of them to stiffen, and Dean drops what’s in his hand. “Hang on,” Dean calls. “We’re here to help.”
Sam scans the floor with his flashlight, since the voices had come from below, and after a few seconds’ search, finds a grate, which appears to be welded closed. The light passes over a girl’s dirty face, and she raises a hand to shield her eyes, but not before Sam recognizes Penny from the missing persons photo.
Jimmy brings the sword up. “Get them out,” he says. “I’ll cover you.”
Sam and Dean muscle the grate out of the way by sheer brute force, and Penny says, “They’re coming back.”
“We know,” Sam assures her. “It’s okay.”
There’s a shout from behind them, and Sam puts Penny on her feet before he whirls to face the newest threat.
There’s what looks to be a man in his thirties advancing on Jimmy, but his hands are glowing red, the color of superheated metal. Jimmy raises the sword, holding it in front of him, and the dragon laughs. “And what are you going to do with that?”
Jimmy thrusts and plunges the sword into his side.
The dragon cries out in pain. “Where did you get that?”
“Comic-Con,” Dean quips. “Sam, get them out of here.”
Sam wants to protest, but he can see Dean’s point. The girls need to be led to safety, and Dean is watching Jimmy’s back.
And then one of the dragons grabs Sam from behind, and he cries out a warning, twisting out of the dragon’s hold.
“Fuck,” Dean curses. “Jimmy! Stop dancing around and kill the bastard!”
“It’s harder than it looks,” Jimmy snaps and then dives forward, thrusting upward with the sword, catching the dragon by surprise.
The dragon attacking Sam responds by shoving Sam hard so that he crashes into Dean and Jimmy in a tangle of limbs. By the time they disentangle themselves, the dragon has flown, but at least the girls are unharmed.
“Let’s go,” Dean says once they’re on their feet again. “Come on.”
Sam grabs the book, and they make their way out of the sewers, with Jimmy taking the rear this time. Compared to how long they’d been searching, it takes very little time to get out.
Once they’re above ground, Jimmy hands a burner phone to Penny, who seems to have taken the lead with the other girls, as they’re huddled around her. “Call 911,” he says. “We’ll stay until the police arrive, but we can’t be involved.”
Penny nods and clutches the phone. “I will. We won’t say anything.”
Dean strips off his jacket and hands it to Jimmy. “Wrap the sword in that. “
They stick around until they hear the sirens and see the flashing lights. “You’ll be okay,” Dean says. “My number’s programmed in the phone if you have any other trouble.”
Penny nods. “Thank you.”
They disappear into the growing crowd with ease, just three guys out for a stroll, and when they’re back in the car, Sam starts laughing.
“What?” Dean demands.
Sam shakes his head. “We’ve got St. George in the backseat, Dean. He just killed a dragon.”
“Very funny,” Jimmy says stiffly.
Dean grins, and then starts laughing, too. “Can we call you George?”
“You cannot,” Jimmy replies with dignity. “You know, we’re supposed to pick Claire up in a couple of days. How are we supposed to get the sword back to Dr. Visyak?”
“Dude, that’s what UPS is for,” Dean replies. “We’ll pack it up the next chance we’ve got.”
Sam holds up the book. “At least we’re not empty-handed.”
“And Jimmy saved the fair maidens,” Dean teases.
Sam catches sight of Jimmy rolling his eyes in the rearview mirror, but he’s smiling.
In the closed car, it becomes really obvious that they’ve brought the smell of sewer with them, but Dean drives for a couple of hours in spite of that, although they keep the windows cracked.
When they do stop well after midnight, it’s at a cheap motel on the outskirts of Troutdale, with half the letters in the neon “Vacancy” burned out.
“Shower, a few hours of sleep, and then we head to Pontiac,” Dean says when Sam returns from checking them in.
“First shower,” Sam calls, dangling the room key, and is greeted with groans from Jimmy and Dean.
“Maybe I’ll wait until morning,” Dean mutters.
Jimmy gives him a sly look. “Not if you want to sleep in the same bed as me.”
“Well, you’re not sleeping with me,” Sam says, keeping his tone light. “So, don’t even think about it.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Dean says dryly.
When Sam emerges from the shower, Dean and Jimmy are perched on the edge of one of the beds, and Dean’s hands are tangled in Jimmy’s hair. Sam pauses, watching them for a moment.
They’re kissing slow and unhurried, like they haven’t heard the shower turn off, and Sam leans against the doorjamb, waiting for them to notice him.
In some ways, the picture is just the same-ugly bedspreads with cowboys riding bucking broncos, stained beige carpet that’s better ignored, his brother making it with someone while Sam watches, bemused.
But it’s not at all the same, because Dean’s kissing a guy, someone they know, someone who will be in the backseat of the Impala tomorrow, and the days thereafter. Jimmy Novak isn’t some girl Dean’s picked up at a bar who will leave in the morning; he’s the guy who’s all but taken Sam’s place during the time he’s been away.
Sam’s missed a year and a half, and the whole world has changed around him.
Eventually, when it doesn’t look like they’re going to come up for air any time soon, Sam clears his throat. “Uh, guys? Shower’s free.”
After a moment, Dean breaks off the kiss. “Go for it, Jimmy.”
Jimmy steals one more kiss before he stands. “I’ll make it quick,” he promises.
When the bathroom door closes behind him, Sam observes, “You guys are good together.”
“Thanks,” Dean says, sounding a little cautious. “You’re okay with Claire spending Christmas with us, right? I probably should have asked you before, but-”
“Of course,” Sam says quickly. “It’ll be nice to have a kid around. Different.”
Dean lights up. “She’s a great kid.”
Sam raises his eyebrows and sits down on the bed across from Dean. “It sounds like you’ve gotten pretty attached.”
“Wait until you get to know her,” Dean replies. “You’ll love her.”
It sounds like Dean wants Sam to love her, which is a different story. “I’m sure I will,” Sam agrees. “You generally have good taste in kids. And maybe boyfriends. Jury’s still out on that, since I’m working with a sample size of one.”
Dean chuckles, but the sound is a little uncertain. “Yeah. About that…” He stops, rubbing the back of his neck. “It sorta happened.”
“It’s okay,” Sam assures him. “I mean, I figured if you’d settle down with anybody, it’d be Lisa, right?”
Dean shakes his head. “And saddle her with all my baggage? No way. I couldn’t get out of the life, and then Jimmy called, and it was-it was good. It is good.”
Sam is well versed in reading between the lines with Dean, and he knows what his brother pointedly isn’t saying. Jimmy isn’t going anywhere, and Dean has made a life with him. Sam’s presence isn’t going to change that.
Honestly, Sam doesn’t want it to change, because Dean just lights up with Jimmy, and lights up at the mention of Jimmy’s kid. Hell, Sam likes Jimmy, who has apparently been dealt a shitty hand and is dealing with it as best he can.
“Well, he’s an honorary Winchester now, isn’t he?” Sam asks.
And that’s the right thing to say, because Dean grins at him, his teeth very white against his grimy skin. “Pretty much.”
“I can take first shift driving tomorrow,” Sam offers. “I know we’re going to have to push hard to get to Pontiac in time to pick Claire up.”
Jimmy emerges from the bathroom, still scrubbing a towel over his hair. “Bathroom is yours, Dean.”
“Thanks, man,” Dean says, pressing Sam’s shoulder briefly as he passes him.
Sam stretches out on the bed, pulling out his phone and checking for news alerts as Jimmy grabs the laptop. At some point in the last year and a half, Dean had invested in a hotspot, so they always have internet, and Sam’s used to Jimmy’s routine at this point.
Every night, if Jimmy doesn’t call Claire, he sends her a long email. Tonight is no different; Jimmy begins typing rapidly after a few minutes, wearing the same smile he does when he’s talking to Claire on the phone.
He wouldn’t have thought Dean and Jimmy had much in common, but it’s starting to make sense. They both have the same devotion to family, and Dean has always liked kids. In Jimmy, Dean has someone who needs him, and a step-kid, as well as a partner.
“I’m going to turn in,” Sam says.
Jimmy barely glances up. “Good night, Sam,” he replies absently.
Sam is still awake when Dean emerges from the bathroom a few minutes later, though, and he keeps his eyes closed when he hears rustling fabric and quiet noises that sound like kissing.
“We can’t,” Jimmy whispers. “Sam.”
“Sam’s asleep,” Dean insists in the same low tone. “We’ll go out to the car. It’s been too long.”
Jimmy makes a sound that’s somewhere between a groan and a laugh. “It’s only been a day, and you’re lucky it’s not freezing outside.”
“I hope to get lucky,” Dean counters. “Sam’s taking first shift driving tomorrow. Have you ever had sex in the back of a car?”
Sam hears a low chuckle. “I’ve never had to.”
“You don’t know what you’re missing,” Dean insists.
Sam hears the click of the hotel door and makes a mental note not to sit in the backseat the next day, although he knows Dean is good about cleaning up after himself.
At least he doesn’t have to see or listen to Dean having sex-which has happened in the past. They’ve lived in such close quarters for most of their lives, they hadn’t always been able to have the privacy they’d desired.
Except that Dean had that privacy while Sam had been gone, and he wonders if it had been easier on Dean that way.
He’s still awake when they reenter the room, although they’re nearly silent. Sam keeps his eyes closed and his breathing even, wanting to give the appearance of sleep.
His chaotic thoughts keep him awake far longer than Sam would like, though, and when he does fall asleep, it’s with the feeling that he’s an interloper in his own life.
Continued
Author: enigmaticblue
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I don’t own these characters; too bad, so sad.
Pairings/Characters: Dean/Jimmy, Sam, Bobby
Spoilers: A sequel to What Is Twisted Cannot Be Straightened, and for 6.12, “Like a Virgin”
Word Count: ~11,000
Summary: “Though one may be overpowered, two can defend themselves. A cord of three strands is not quickly broken.” ~Ecclesiastes 4:12
A/N: This is technically something of a Christmas fic, but I didn’t get to it until now, so it’s a bit late.
Sam wakes gradually, his mind a pleasant, drowsy blank at first. He blinks and turns his head slowly, immediately recognizing arcane symbols on the walls of Bobby’s panic room. He’s woken up here before, after all, and he takes one breath and then another, trying to remember how he’d come to be there.
His last memory is of Dean’s battered face, and of the Impala, right before he’d fallen backwards, consigning Lucifer to Hell.
He shifts on the thin mattress of the Army cot and is relieved that he’s not restrained, although he feels the dull burn of an IV line in his arm. A glance at the bag above his head suggests that it’s a saline drip, and Sam carefully pulls it out, pushing himself up, and swinging his legs over the side.
Sam’s wearing different clothes than he did at Stull, and he’s feeling a little lightheaded, his head aching, his empty stomach twisting.
He stands up slowly, tugging at his flannel shirt, waiting for a moment until he’s certain his legs will hold him, and then he tries the door, which is unlocked. Apparently, they’re not too worried about him getting out, although Sam has no idea where his brother is.
Usually, Dean is right there, waiting for him to wake up.
Sam makes his way out of the panic room and up the stairs to the main floor of Bobby’s house, keeping hold of the handrail all the way up. The cold, damp air of the basement suggests that the weather outside is at least chilly, but he has no other indication of how much time has passed, or even what time of day it is.
When Sam enters the kitchen, he’s surprised to see Dean and Bobby sitting at the kitchen table with Castiel, who’s wearing a gray t-shirt and jeans, instead of his usual suit, tie, and trench coat.
Sam could have sworn that he’d watched Bobby and Cas die.
“Hey,” Sam manages. “Dean.”
Dean stands, and Sam surges forward, wrapping his arms around Dean with a sense of profound gratitude. After a moment, Dean returns the embrace, his arms tightening around Sam.
Dean pulls back, and he smiles wearily. “Hey, Sammy. How are you feeling?”
“Fine,” Sam replies. He’s a little surprised when Bobby and Cas get up and make no move towards Sam. He takes a step towards Bobby, who won’t quite meet Sam’s eyes.
“Glad you’re okay,” Bobby says gruffly and leaves the kitchen.
Cas touches Dean’s shoulder, and Sam sees that his wrists are swathed in white gauze. “Call if you need me.”
Cas leaves, and Sam frowns. “Dean? How long was I down there?”
“Down where?” Dean hedges.
“The basement,” Sam replies. “Bobby’s panic room.”
Dean hesitates. “What’s the last thing you remember?”
“The field,” Sam replies. “Cas and Bobby were killed. Who brought them back? I don’t understand.”
Dean smiles, but the expression looks forced. “It’s a long story.”
Sam frowns, sensing an undercurrent that he can’t quite figure out. “Are you okay?”
Dean doesn’t exactly answer him. “It’s good to have you back,” Dean replies evasively. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
Sam shrugs. “I’m starving, actually.”
“That can be fixed,” Dean replies, this time with a smile that reaches his eyes. “I’ll make you a sandwich.”
Sam sits down, watching as Dean rummages in the fridge. “Do you want a beer?” Dean asks.
“I’d take one,” Sam admits.
Dean twists the cap off a bottle and puts it in front of Sam. “Here you go.”
Sam turns the bottle and asks cautiously, “What happened with Bobby and Cas?”
Dean glances at him, and seems to hesitate before he says, “Something or someone brought Cas back, and he healed Bobby.”
“How long ago was that?” Sam asks, wondering if the passage of time accounts for the strangeness.
Dean hesitates. “Over a year and a half now.”
Sam frowns, trying to absorb that information. He has no idea how he could have been gone for so long and yet not remember anything. “How did you get me out?” Sam asks warily. “Did Cas do it?”
“Cas doesn’t have anything to do with it,” Dean snaps angrily.
Sam stares at him. “But he was just-wasn’t he just here?” he asks uncertainly.
Dean lets out a bark of laughter that holds little humor. “Sorry, I forgot you didn’t know. That was Jimmy, not Cas. Castiel has a new vessel.”
“Okay,” Sam says slowly. “I didn’t know Jimmy was hunting now.”
Dean turns and faces Sam with a defiant expression, leaning back against the counter, his face half in shadow, even in the midafternoon light streaming into the kitchen. “We’re together, Sammy.”
Sam nods. “Oh, you’re hunting together?”
Dean makes a sound that expresses his impatience. “No, we’re together. I guess you’d call him my boyfriend.”
Sam can tell from Dean’s expression that Dean expects him to react poorly, and so Sam maintains a completely neutral expression. “Oh. That’s-that’s good. Is it good?”
The smile that Dean offers in response is real, his eyes lighting up in a way Sam knows is genuine. “Yeah. It’s good.”
Sam nods. “Then I’m happy for you.”
Dean chuckles, and the sound holds real humor this time. “Thanks.”
“What about Castiel?” Sam asks carefully, feeling as though he’s on ground littered with landmines.
“Castiel has a new vessel,” Dean replies. “Like I said. He’s been helpful, but I don’t trust him right now.” Dean makes a face. “I should say that I don’t trust her.”
“The vessel is a woman?” Sam asks.
Dean shrugs. “Long story. I’ll tell you about it one of these days. You sure you’re okay?”
Sam isn’t quite sure how to respond, since that’s the third time Dean’s asked some variation of that question, and he seems to expect some other response than the one Sam keeps giving him. “Fine. Just a little confused, I guess, but otherwise, I’m okay.”
“What’s confusing?” Dean asks, putting a plate with a sandwich in front of Sam.
“How you got me out of hell, for one,” Sam says, taking a huge bite.
Dean shrugs. “I made a bet with Death, and it paid off. And before you say it, it’s not anything I haven’t heard before. Jimmy wasn’t happy with me either.”
“That’s how you got me out?” Sam asks incredulously. “You made a deal with Death?”
Dean shakes his head, suddenly appearing older and wearier than Sam can ever remember him looking. “Someone else retrieved your body; I just made sure you had your soul.”
“What does that mean?” Sam demands.
Dean rubs his eyes. “It means that you’re back, that you’re in one piece, and that you really need to not try to remember, Sam. Death put up a wall to make sure you don’t remember your time in the Cage.”
“And if I do?” Sam asks, his heart in his throat.
“Then he couldn’t guarantee your sanity, or your continued well being,” Dean replies. “Promise you won’t try. What I did-what I had to do-wouldn’t mean a whole lot if I lost you now.”
Sam nods. “I promise. I won’t try.”
Dean nods, appearing relieved. “Good, that’s good. It’s nice to have you back, Sam. I’ll be right back,” he says, and then he disappears.
Sam watches him go, and he feels as though he’s missed far more than a year and a half; he feels as though he’s missed a lifetime, as though he’s Rip Van Winkle, awake after twenty years asleep.
He stares at his sandwich, and has no idea what to do with the reality awaiting him.
~~~~~
Sam eats another two sandwiches before he’s satisfied, and he’s on his second beer when he finally joins Dean in Bobby’s study. Bobby and Jimmy have their heads bent together over an ancient tome, but they both glance up when Sam enters the room.
“Sam, you remember Jimmy,” Dean says by way of introduction, lounging in a chair next to Jimmy, their knees bumping.
Sam nods, the stark white gauze on Jimmy’s wrists catching his attention again. “Hey.”
“Sam,” Jimmy replies, his voice perfectly neutral. “How are you feeling?”
“Not too bad.” Sam shifts uncomfortably under Bobby’s suspicious gaze and Jimmy’s blank expression. “It’s nice to see you again.”
Jimmy nods stiffly. “Yeah.” He stands up. “I need to call Claire.”
Sam frowns, remembering the young blonde girl, who had briefly served as Castiel’s vessel. “Your daughter, right? How is she?”
Jimmy looks surprised. “She’s doing well, thank you for asking.”
“Tell her I said hello,” Dean says. “And we’ll see her for Christmas.”
“Are you sure?” Jimmy asks, glancing at Sam with a dubious expression.
Dean nods. “Very sure. It’s still okay, isn’t it, Bobby?”
“It doesn’t matter to me,” Bobby replies gruffly.
Sam feels a little lost. “Christmas?”
“It’s in a couple of weeks, and Claire wanted to spend the holiday with Jimmy,” Dean explains. “That okay with you?”
“Yeah, sure,” Sam agrees, bewildered. “Why wouldn’t it be?”
Dean shrugs. “No reason.”
Jimmy won’t quite meet Sam’s eyes. “I’ll let Claire know,” he says as he slips out of the room.
“I’ve got a few things to do in the yard,” Bobby announces, and he leaves without so much as a glance in Sam’s direction.
Sam watches him leave and asks, “Is there something I should know about?”
“You weren’t yourself,” Dean says with finality. “Don’t worry about it.”
Sam knows there’s more to it than that, but he’s well aware that there’s no getting Dean to talk about something until he’s good and ready. “You and Jimmy-you’re pretty serious, huh?”
“We’re serious,” Dean agrees. “And Claire’s a good kid. You’ll like her.”
“I liked her the last time we met,” Sam replies. “You sound like you’ve gotten attached.”
“Maybe I have,” Dean replies defensively. “So what?”
Sam has no idea where Dean’s hostility is coming from. “So, nothing. If you’re happy, I’m happy.”
Dean’s shoulders sag. “Yeah, sorry. I just-Jimmy’s had a hard time, you know? I don’t want to make things harder on him than they have to be.”
Sam touches his own wrist. “Did he-?”
Dean shakes his head. “It’s not what you’re thinking. They’re stigmata. And just so you know, he can heal people, but it takes a lot out of him, so be careful around him.”
There’s a weight to Dean’s words that suggests whatever Sam had done in the past, he hadn’t been as careful of Jimmy as Dean would like. “I will be, Dean,” he promises.
Dean smiles. “Thanks. I should go talk to Bobby. Rest up, huh? You’ve got a lot of sleep to catch up on.”
Sam isn’t tired, but he sits down at the table and pages through the book that Bobby and Jimmy had been reading. It’s some kind of reference book, talking about heavenly weapons, and he wonders what it’s all about.
~~~~~
Sam has always felt at home at Bobby’s house; he’d spent enough time there as a kid to view it as a second home after the Impala.
And he’s never been so uncomfortable.
Two days after he wakes up in the panic room, Bobby still looks at him with distrust, and Jimmy can’t seem to handle even being in the same room as him. He finds a reason to disappear any time Sam is around.
Sam would like to talk to him, to get to know him a little better, given how close he and Dean seem to be. Jimmy’s making it really difficult, though.
Sam comes around the corner towards the study on the second night and stops cold when he spots Dean and Jimmy. Dean’s got his arms loosely around Jimmy’s waist, and Jimmy’s face is pressed against the side of Dean’s neck.
He backs up, knowing better than to eavesdrop, but too curious to do anything else.
“It can be just the two of us,” Dean is saying.
“And how are you going to explain that?” Jimmy asks in a low voice. “I’ll be fine. I could always stay behind.”
“I told you, we’re not splitting up,” Dean says, keeping his voice low, but his tone is heated.
Jimmy pulls back. “That was different. That was before.”
“It’s no different now,” Dean says. “You’re still my partner, and Sam’s my brother. You’ll like him once you really get to know him.”
As Sam glances around the corner, Jimmy presses his lips to Dean’s hungrily, and it’s more than a little strange to watch his brother kiss a man, but Dean looks like he’s enjoying himself.
Sam looks away as the kiss goes on, unable to watch what is obviously a very intimate moment between them.
“For your sake,” Jimmy promises. “We don’t have to have Christmas, Dean.”
“I promised Claire,” Dean replies. “So yeah, we do. We do this job, and we pick Claire up, and then we have Christmas with the four of us.”
Jimmy chuckles. “What on earth did you say to Amelia to get her to agree?”
“I told her that this would be the first Christmas in decades that my family would be together, and I wanted the same for you,” Dean replies. “She agreed pretty quick when I put it that way.”
“I think she likes you better than she likes me,” Jimmy says wryly.
Sam frowns, wondering why Jimmy’s wife-or his ex-wife at this point-would like Dean better. Hell, for that matter, he wonders how Dean had wound up with Jimmy. It’s like he hadn’t even tried to get out of the hunting business.
Maybe he hadn’t.
“Well, I wasn’t married to her, remember?” Dean asks, sounding amused. “I guarantee she wouldn’t like me half as much if she had to live with me.”
“I don’t know,” Jimmy replies. “I live with you, and I like you just fine.”
“That’s probably because you’re crazy,” Dean says affectionately. There’s another long pause, and Sam leans his head against the wall in the hallway, knowing what they’re likely doing. “You sure you’re okay with this?”
“I’ll be fine,” Jimmy says. “Just-don’t leave us alone together, all right?”
Sam slips away after that, not staying to hear Dean’s response. He has no idea what he’d done to Jimmy, but his stomach twists with dismay.
He’d liked Jimmy, and he doesn’t like the thought that he’d hurt someone and can’t even remember it.
If he can’t ask Jimmy what he’s done, he’ll try to corner Bobby.
Bobby doesn’t look pleased to see Sam when he finds him outside, working on a car engine. “Yeah? What is it you need?”
“What happened?” Sam demands. “What did I do?”
Bobby gives him a disgruntled look. “I’m not the one you should be asking that.”
“Dean won’t answer my questions, and Jimmy won’t stay in the same room as me,” Sam replies. “Hell, you won’t even look at me.”
Bobby snorts. “You didn’t much want your soul back, and you didn’t care about the collateral damage. I’ll get over it.”
“What about Jimmy?” Sam presses.
Bobby sighs. “Don’t you dare tell your brother that I told you, hear me?”
Sam nods.
“You let Dean get turned by a vampire, and Jimmy nearly killed himself healing him,” Bobby says briefly. “Dean’ll forgive you, because you’re his brother, but Jimmy’s not going to trust you any time soon.”
Sam swallows. “And you?”
Bobby adjusts his hat. “I’m not kicking you out, am I?”
That’s not much of an answer, but Sam knows better than to push Bobby when he doesn’t want to be pushed. “I’m sorry,” he says helplessly, even though he’s not entirely clear what he’d done.
“You weren’t yourself,” Bobby replies, echoing Dean’s words. “Go on now. Get out of here.”
Sam leaves, wandering back into the house, standing in the hallway, as uncertain as he’s ever been. He’s not sure that he belongs here; he’s not sure he belongs in Dean’s life.
He’d wanted Dean to move on, to find happiness apart from Sam, and now that he has, Sam doesn’t know whether he and Dean fit together anymore.
Dean has always been the one thing Sam could count on, and now…
He wishes he could remember the last year.
“You okay?”
Sam blinks, seeing Dean at the end of the hallway, looking at him with concern. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he replies, remembering his promise to Bobby.
“We have a job,” Dean says. “You up for it? If not, you can stay here.”
Sam isn’t sure which would be worse-staying with Bobby, who won’t look at him, or riding in a car with Dean and Jimmy, when Jimmy can’t stand to be in the same room with Sam.
“Is Jimmy going to be okay with that?” Sam asks.
“Jimmy will be fine,” Dean replies. “You two just have to get to know each other is all.”
Sam shakes his head. “Oh, is that all?”
Dean nods. “Yeah, that’s all,” he says, like saying so makes it true.
Sam wishes it worked that way.
~~~~~
When they leave Bobby’s, Jimmy climbs into the backseat before Sam can protest, saying only, “Your legs are longer.”
In the passenger seat, Sam can almost believe that nothing has changed, that it’s Cas in the backseat, riding with them again.
Almost. The silence in the Impala isn’t the comfortable quiet Sam’s used to sharing with Dean.
Jimmy takes a call after they’ve been on the road a few hours, and Dean automatically turns down the music. “Hey, baby,” he says.
It takes Sam a second to realize that Jimmy’s talking to Claire.
“No, I’m good,” Jimmy replies. “Have you had any more dreams?”
Sam stays quiet, listening to the one-sided conversation.
“Right after we’re done with this job, I promise,” Jimmy says. “We’ll spend Christmas together. Sound good?”
“Let me talk to her,” Dean says.
Jimmy holds up a hand. “Yeah, we’re fine. Dean wants to say hello.” He passes the phone up to Dean, and Sam blinks as Dean says warmly, “Hey, kiddo. How are you?”
Dean doesn’t say much, just listens with apparent enjoyment to whatever Claire’s telling him, and Sam realizes that Dean had really done it-he’d found a life for himself with Sam gone, even if it’s not the life Sam had envisioned for him.
Eventually, Dean says, “All right, I’m giving you back to your dad now. I’ll see you soon.”
Jimmy takes the phone back and leans against the door, stretching out sideways in the backseat. “I’ll call before I show up,” Jimmy promises.
There’s a pause, and he says, “No, this job isn’t going to keep us away. If I have to, I’ll fly back.”
“You’re not going to have to fly back,” Dean insists. “I’ll get you back in time.”
“You hear that?” Jimmy asks. “You know Dean keeps his promises.” Sam can see his grin in the rearview mirror. “Love you, too.”
Dean glances over his shoulder. “Winter formal, huh?”
“Shut up,” Jimmy says without heat.
Dean laughs. “She’ll run rings around the boys, especially after we get through with her.”
“Go easy, Dean,” Jimmy warns him. “If Amelia finds out-”
“Claire isn’t going to tell her, and neither will we,” Dean replies.
Sam gives Dean a questioning look. “What’s up?”
“Amelia doesn’t want Claire exposed to hunting,” Dean explains. “So, we have to keep it quiet, okay?”
Sam nods. “Yeah, sure, you got it. Not a problem.”
Dean smiles. “Good. We’ll stop for the night soon.”
Sam clears his throat. “Uh, one room or two?”
There’s a long, awkward silence, and Jimmy says softly, “We should probably save money where we can.”
“It’s okay,” Sam replies quickly. “Whatever you want to do.”
“Long as you don’t mind us sharing a bed,” Dean replies, a challenge in his voice.
Sam smiles, playing it off as a joke. “Well, I’m not sharing with either one of you, so that works out fine.”
Dean mock-glares. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying that you kick, and from what I remember, Jimmy steals the covers,” Sam replies.
Dean lets out a bark of laughter. “He’s right about that much, Jimmy.”
A glance at the backseat, and Sam can see Jimmy hiding a smile. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Jimmy insists.
“Sure you don’t,” Dean teases. “Anybody hungry?”
“Starved,” Sam replies.
“Same,” Jimmy agrees.
Dean nods, looking pleased. “Food and beds, coming right up.”
Sam feels as though he’s making some progress. At least it’s a decent start.
It’s another hour before they stop for food, but the silence feels more comfortable now. Dean stops at a diner for his usual fare, and Sam is amused when neither of them even glance at the menu, and Dean orders for the both of them.
Sam orders the chicken club with a side salad as a marginally healthier option, but he has to admit that it’s a comfort to know that some things haven’t changed.
Dean might have a partner-he might even have a boyfriend-but he still orders a burger when he has a choice.
Jimmy and Dean both scarf their burgers and fries quickly, and Sam’s leg gets jostled often enough that he suspects they’re playing footsie under the table.
Sam doesn’t mind, though, especially seeing the secretive glances they keep exchanging. If he’d needed confirmation, he has it.
Dean’s happy with Jimmy; Jimmy is happy with him. Dean somehow has a step-daughter, or the closest thing to it. Sam just hopes there’s still enough room in Dean’s life for him.
When they’ve cleaned their plates, Dean wipes his mouth with a napkin and calls for the check. “You okay with heading out from here?”
“Yeah, sure,” Jimmy agrees, following Dean’s example.
“Sam?” Dean prompts.
Sam chases the least bit of dressing on his plate with a stray piece of lettuce and puts his fork down. “Ready.”
There’s a motel next to the diner, and Dean checks in, leaving Jimmy and Sam in the car together. “I hope this isn’t too awkward,” Sam says, the night pressing down on him, even in the glare of the street lamps.
“It doesn’t have to be,” Jimmy replies. “I want us to get along. It’s important to Dean.”
“Same here,” Sam says. “Whatever I did before I got my soul back, I’m sorry.”
“It’s forgotten,” Jimmy assures him.
Sam doesn’t think it’s going to be that easy, but he nods, grateful that Jimmy is willing to meet him halfway. “Thanks.”
Sharing a room isn’t as awkward as it might have been, mostly because Dean and Jimmy act more like a couple of friends instead of a couple. Even when they crawl into bed together, Sam notes that they leave a decorous six inches between them.
He drops off to sleep, waking with a gasp a few hours later from a fractured, chaotic nightmare tinged with red.
The light from the parking lot casts shadows on the walls, and Sam gulps in air, glancing over at Dean for reassurance.
Dean is curled around Jimmy now, and they’re so tangled up in each other that Sam can’t tell where one ends and the other begins.
Sam lies back down on the bed and closes his eyes, willing himself back to sleep.
~~~~~
Sam doesn’t believe in dragons, or he hadn’t until now, but the evidence fits-gold, virgins, giant bat-like flying creatures. Bobby’s expert is in California, though, and it makes sense for them to split up, with Dean and Jimmy heading south and Sam staying in Portland.
He feels a little bereft, even though he knows it’s foolish. Even if Jimmy weren’t around, they still would’ve divided the labor, and Sam would still have been alone. The difference now is that Dean isn’t alone, and Sam is.
He’s never really felt like a third wheel before, even when Dean had disappeared with a girl for a night-mostly because it had been one night.
Sam continues to work the case on his end, calling Bobby with what he’s learned. “Dragons live in caves,” he explains. “But there’s nothing around for miles.”
“Less literal, maybe,” Bobby suggests. “What else do you got that’s cold, dark, and wet?”
“Subway lines,” Sam replies, and then the solution hits him. “Maybe sewers. Thanks, Bobby.”
“How’s Dean?” Bobby asks, sounding deceptively nonchalant.
“I wouldn’t know,” Sam admits. “He and Jimmy went to see your friend down in California about a weapon.”
Bobby grunts. “Good luck to them.”
Sam feels the awkwardness between them. “Bobby, look-”
“Drop it, Sam,” Bobby advises him. “Don’t pick at it.”
Sam sighs. “Yeah, of course.”
“Good, because your brother went through hell trying to get you back, and so did we,” Bobby replies. “In this case, what you don’t know won’t hurt you. I’ll see you in a few days, huh?”
“See you then,” Sam promises.
He doesn’t have much to do but try to track down the dragons and wait for Dean and Jimmy to return-which they do in a little over a day and a half, with a sword, although Sam quickly gathers that things hadn’t quite turned out the way Dean expected.
“I still can’t believe it,” Dean grumbles as Jimmy places the sword on the small table in their motel room.
Jimmy grins smugly, crossing his arms over his chest, the sleeves of his t-shirt and jacket riding up just enough to reveal the white gauze. “Believe it.”
“I mean, why you and not me?” Dean protests with what could only be called a pout, as he throws himself on one of the beds.
“Because I’m pure of heart?” Jimmy suggests with a mischievous grin.
Dean snorts, but he doesn’t argue. “That doesn’t mean you’re going to be the one wielding it.”
“Sure it does,” Jimmy replies. “I was the one who pulled it out of the stone, and I was the one who promised Dr. Visyak that I’d bring it back in one piece.”
Sam grins. “Let me guess: she liked Jimmy better than she liked you.”
“Clearly, she has very poor taste,” Dean insists. “I’m pretty sure she dated Bobby at one point, so case in point.”
Jimmy snickers. “And if I asked Bobby, I’m sure he’d say that was evidence of her exquisite taste.”
Dean sneers. “Oooh, big word.”
Jimmy pats the sword in a proprietary manner. “I’ve got a few of those. I’ll bet Sam knows them.”
“I know them,” Dean protests. “And we’ve got dragons to kill, St. George.”
“Lead the way,” Jimmy says. “Or maybe Sam should lead the way.”
Sam grimaces apologetically. “Sorry, guys, but I think they’re in the sewers.”
“Wouldn’t be the worst place I’ve ever been,” Dean says philosophically.
He changes his tune an hour later when they’re still traipsing through dank tunnels and muck, and appear to be no closer to their goal. Even though Jimmy’s the one carrying the sword, Dean is in the lead, and Sam is bringing up the rear.
From what Dean has told Sam of Jimmy’s gifts, it makes sense to keep him safe in the middle.
“Ugh. Just when I think I’ve gotten used to the smell, I hit a new flavor,” Dean complains. “Are you sure they’re down here? Maybe the lore is wrong.”
“The lore isn’t wrong,” Sam insists. “There’s just a lot of sewer to search.”
“Hey,” Jimmy says suddenly, pointing off to the right. “Look.”
Sam turns his flashlight in that direction, and there’s a pile of gold illuminated by the thin beam of light, and behind the gold, an altar with a leather bound book.
“I think we’ve found our dragons,” Jimmy murmurs.
“Well, we’ve found where they’re living, anyway,” Sam agrees, running his hand over the cover of the book, which is bound in some kind of leather.
Dean picks up a gold watch from the pile and then starts to fill his pockets.
“Dude, we don’t have time for that,” Sam protests.
“We always have time for gold,” Dean replies with a grin.
“Hello? Is someone there?”
The girl’s voice causes all three of them to stiffen, and Dean drops what’s in his hand. “Hang on,” Dean calls. “We’re here to help.”
Sam scans the floor with his flashlight, since the voices had come from below, and after a few seconds’ search, finds a grate, which appears to be welded closed. The light passes over a girl’s dirty face, and she raises a hand to shield her eyes, but not before Sam recognizes Penny from the missing persons photo.
Jimmy brings the sword up. “Get them out,” he says. “I’ll cover you.”
Sam and Dean muscle the grate out of the way by sheer brute force, and Penny says, “They’re coming back.”
“We know,” Sam assures her. “It’s okay.”
There’s a shout from behind them, and Sam puts Penny on her feet before he whirls to face the newest threat.
There’s what looks to be a man in his thirties advancing on Jimmy, but his hands are glowing red, the color of superheated metal. Jimmy raises the sword, holding it in front of him, and the dragon laughs. “And what are you going to do with that?”
Jimmy thrusts and plunges the sword into his side.
The dragon cries out in pain. “Where did you get that?”
“Comic-Con,” Dean quips. “Sam, get them out of here.”
Sam wants to protest, but he can see Dean’s point. The girls need to be led to safety, and Dean is watching Jimmy’s back.
And then one of the dragons grabs Sam from behind, and he cries out a warning, twisting out of the dragon’s hold.
“Fuck,” Dean curses. “Jimmy! Stop dancing around and kill the bastard!”
“It’s harder than it looks,” Jimmy snaps and then dives forward, thrusting upward with the sword, catching the dragon by surprise.
The dragon attacking Sam responds by shoving Sam hard so that he crashes into Dean and Jimmy in a tangle of limbs. By the time they disentangle themselves, the dragon has flown, but at least the girls are unharmed.
“Let’s go,” Dean says once they’re on their feet again. “Come on.”
Sam grabs the book, and they make their way out of the sewers, with Jimmy taking the rear this time. Compared to how long they’d been searching, it takes very little time to get out.
Once they’re above ground, Jimmy hands a burner phone to Penny, who seems to have taken the lead with the other girls, as they’re huddled around her. “Call 911,” he says. “We’ll stay until the police arrive, but we can’t be involved.”
Penny nods and clutches the phone. “I will. We won’t say anything.”
Dean strips off his jacket and hands it to Jimmy. “Wrap the sword in that. “
They stick around until they hear the sirens and see the flashing lights. “You’ll be okay,” Dean says. “My number’s programmed in the phone if you have any other trouble.”
Penny nods. “Thank you.”
They disappear into the growing crowd with ease, just three guys out for a stroll, and when they’re back in the car, Sam starts laughing.
“What?” Dean demands.
Sam shakes his head. “We’ve got St. George in the backseat, Dean. He just killed a dragon.”
“Very funny,” Jimmy says stiffly.
Dean grins, and then starts laughing, too. “Can we call you George?”
“You cannot,” Jimmy replies with dignity. “You know, we’re supposed to pick Claire up in a couple of days. How are we supposed to get the sword back to Dr. Visyak?”
“Dude, that’s what UPS is for,” Dean replies. “We’ll pack it up the next chance we’ve got.”
Sam holds up the book. “At least we’re not empty-handed.”
“And Jimmy saved the fair maidens,” Dean teases.
Sam catches sight of Jimmy rolling his eyes in the rearview mirror, but he’s smiling.
In the closed car, it becomes really obvious that they’ve brought the smell of sewer with them, but Dean drives for a couple of hours in spite of that, although they keep the windows cracked.
When they do stop well after midnight, it’s at a cheap motel on the outskirts of Troutdale, with half the letters in the neon “Vacancy” burned out.
“Shower, a few hours of sleep, and then we head to Pontiac,” Dean says when Sam returns from checking them in.
“First shower,” Sam calls, dangling the room key, and is greeted with groans from Jimmy and Dean.
“Maybe I’ll wait until morning,” Dean mutters.
Jimmy gives him a sly look. “Not if you want to sleep in the same bed as me.”
“Well, you’re not sleeping with me,” Sam says, keeping his tone light. “So, don’t even think about it.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Dean says dryly.
When Sam emerges from the shower, Dean and Jimmy are perched on the edge of one of the beds, and Dean’s hands are tangled in Jimmy’s hair. Sam pauses, watching them for a moment.
They’re kissing slow and unhurried, like they haven’t heard the shower turn off, and Sam leans against the doorjamb, waiting for them to notice him.
In some ways, the picture is just the same-ugly bedspreads with cowboys riding bucking broncos, stained beige carpet that’s better ignored, his brother making it with someone while Sam watches, bemused.
But it’s not at all the same, because Dean’s kissing a guy, someone they know, someone who will be in the backseat of the Impala tomorrow, and the days thereafter. Jimmy Novak isn’t some girl Dean’s picked up at a bar who will leave in the morning; he’s the guy who’s all but taken Sam’s place during the time he’s been away.
Sam’s missed a year and a half, and the whole world has changed around him.
Eventually, when it doesn’t look like they’re going to come up for air any time soon, Sam clears his throat. “Uh, guys? Shower’s free.”
After a moment, Dean breaks off the kiss. “Go for it, Jimmy.”
Jimmy steals one more kiss before he stands. “I’ll make it quick,” he promises.
When the bathroom door closes behind him, Sam observes, “You guys are good together.”
“Thanks,” Dean says, sounding a little cautious. “You’re okay with Claire spending Christmas with us, right? I probably should have asked you before, but-”
“Of course,” Sam says quickly. “It’ll be nice to have a kid around. Different.”
Dean lights up. “She’s a great kid.”
Sam raises his eyebrows and sits down on the bed across from Dean. “It sounds like you’ve gotten pretty attached.”
“Wait until you get to know her,” Dean replies. “You’ll love her.”
It sounds like Dean wants Sam to love her, which is a different story. “I’m sure I will,” Sam agrees. “You generally have good taste in kids. And maybe boyfriends. Jury’s still out on that, since I’m working with a sample size of one.”
Dean chuckles, but the sound is a little uncertain. “Yeah. About that…” He stops, rubbing the back of his neck. “It sorta happened.”
“It’s okay,” Sam assures him. “I mean, I figured if you’d settle down with anybody, it’d be Lisa, right?”
Dean shakes his head. “And saddle her with all my baggage? No way. I couldn’t get out of the life, and then Jimmy called, and it was-it was good. It is good.”
Sam is well versed in reading between the lines with Dean, and he knows what his brother pointedly isn’t saying. Jimmy isn’t going anywhere, and Dean has made a life with him. Sam’s presence isn’t going to change that.
Honestly, Sam doesn’t want it to change, because Dean just lights up with Jimmy, and lights up at the mention of Jimmy’s kid. Hell, Sam likes Jimmy, who has apparently been dealt a shitty hand and is dealing with it as best he can.
“Well, he’s an honorary Winchester now, isn’t he?” Sam asks.
And that’s the right thing to say, because Dean grins at him, his teeth very white against his grimy skin. “Pretty much.”
“I can take first shift driving tomorrow,” Sam offers. “I know we’re going to have to push hard to get to Pontiac in time to pick Claire up.”
Jimmy emerges from the bathroom, still scrubbing a towel over his hair. “Bathroom is yours, Dean.”
“Thanks, man,” Dean says, pressing Sam’s shoulder briefly as he passes him.
Sam stretches out on the bed, pulling out his phone and checking for news alerts as Jimmy grabs the laptop. At some point in the last year and a half, Dean had invested in a hotspot, so they always have internet, and Sam’s used to Jimmy’s routine at this point.
Every night, if Jimmy doesn’t call Claire, he sends her a long email. Tonight is no different; Jimmy begins typing rapidly after a few minutes, wearing the same smile he does when he’s talking to Claire on the phone.
He wouldn’t have thought Dean and Jimmy had much in common, but it’s starting to make sense. They both have the same devotion to family, and Dean has always liked kids. In Jimmy, Dean has someone who needs him, and a step-kid, as well as a partner.
“I’m going to turn in,” Sam says.
Jimmy barely glances up. “Good night, Sam,” he replies absently.
Sam is still awake when Dean emerges from the bathroom a few minutes later, though, and he keeps his eyes closed when he hears rustling fabric and quiet noises that sound like kissing.
“We can’t,” Jimmy whispers. “Sam.”
“Sam’s asleep,” Dean insists in the same low tone. “We’ll go out to the car. It’s been too long.”
Jimmy makes a sound that’s somewhere between a groan and a laugh. “It’s only been a day, and you’re lucky it’s not freezing outside.”
“I hope to get lucky,” Dean counters. “Sam’s taking first shift driving tomorrow. Have you ever had sex in the back of a car?”
Sam hears a low chuckle. “I’ve never had to.”
“You don’t know what you’re missing,” Dean insists.
Sam hears the click of the hotel door and makes a mental note not to sit in the backseat the next day, although he knows Dean is good about cleaning up after himself.
At least he doesn’t have to see or listen to Dean having sex-which has happened in the past. They’ve lived in such close quarters for most of their lives, they hadn’t always been able to have the privacy they’d desired.
Except that Dean had that privacy while Sam had been gone, and he wonders if it had been easier on Dean that way.
He’s still awake when they reenter the room, although they’re nearly silent. Sam keeps his eyes closed and his breathing even, wanting to give the appearance of sleep.
His chaotic thoughts keep him awake far longer than Sam would like, though, and when he does fall asleep, it’s with the feeling that he’s an interloper in his own life.
Continued