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John sat in the office of the garage, staring down at the open cellphone in his hand, and the message from his daughter. Don't worry about me, I'm with Dean. We're fine. Won't be back for a while, sorry about the car.
It wasn't the first contact, but it was the first where she'd actually said where she was. Who she was with. He didn't know if he was more bothered by the fact that it had taken this long for her to tell him, or that Dean hadn't seen fit to let him know.
Making his decision, he gave the phone a harsh look and called Dean.
The motel room in Foxboro was cramped, like everything else in the godforsaken state. Too many people and not enough room. Dean didn't like it, paced like a tiger in a cage half the time and had to stop short before he hit a wall. He hated these kinds of places. But it would work well enough for the next day or so until they moved on to the next city, and the next, and the next.
It was funny how life on the road felt so much more natural than life at home, even when he hadn't exactly remembered who he really was. He just fell into it, easy as lying, and he was Dean the hunter again instead of Dean the car mechanic, Dean the home-bound son. It was someone else entirely.
Maybe that was why he'd forgotten to call home, hadn't even thought about it. There'd been so much else to think about - the altercation in Sterling Heights, the hunt in Wolf Trap that had turned the name of the place pretty literal and almost landed him eviscerated. But when the phone rang, it took him by surprise, and it took him a minute to remember that no, his father was alive now. Whatever now was.
So he picked up. "Yeah?"
"Dean." John kept his voice somewhere near casual to start, leaning his elbows on the desk once he had the phone to his ear. "Anything you feel the need to tell me?" He could give him the chance to come clean, even if it would be a small one. There were more questions than just that in need of answering anyway.
Dean paused, considering that. It was one hell of a loaded question, with only about a billion different ways to answer wrong. Finally, he settled on the one thing he could reveal, and asked, "This about Katie? She's with me. Safe."
"And you were planning on telling me this when, exactly?" His voice rose that slight bit, not as much as it might have with an answer beside that. "You need to do some explaining, Dean, and not just because of that, though it's a big part."
He winced, but took the few seconds to think over his answer. "There's been a lot going on. I didn't know she didn't tell you." That was two excuses in one, and pretty lame ones - he sucked at lying to his dad. Dammit.
"So you just thought that I was fine with her taking off then? Planning a road trip I could see, fine. Sometime during the summer. What are you doing, anyway Dean? Where are you?" He pushed, even if it was still technically too early to need to.
Shit. Well, there went any chances of dodging those questions easily. "No, but she threatened to start walkin' if I didn't bring her, so what was I supposed to do?" That was maybe a little more argumentative than he should have been, and he forced himself to bite that back. For part of him it had been too long. For the lingering rest, not long enough. "Just some personal business," he lied, easy, adding, "I'm up in Mass." Which totally wasn't the other side of the damn country. He tried to make it sound casual, like that would help.
"To answer your question, you were supposed to bring her home, or wait somewhere and let me come get her if your business is that important." John lowered his voice some as he continued, keeping it firm. "And if it's just some personal business, why'd you feel the need to specify she was safe when you already told me she was with you? Why wouldn't she be?"
"She was on the side of the road, nowhere to stay 'til someone else could get there." He paused, a delicate silence, adding, "I'll bring her home soon as I can." When this is over, it won't matter. "On the road, that's all. Never know what could happen." Yeah, that didn't sound like total bullshit, either.
"And how long ago was that? You're telling me you haven't been anywhere long enough to give me the time to come get her?" His tone was almost commanding, covering the remnants of worry. "You'd better. What's gotten into you lately anyway Dean?"
"I've been moving a lot. Don't think I've been in one place more'n a couple of nights since October." Early October, at that. He shoved down his instinctive defensiveness, knowing it wouldn't make anything better. "..Couldn't tell you, sir," he muttered to the last question. Closer to old patterns. That made it easier.
"A couple of nights would have been more than enough time." John told him flatly, fixing a stare out the window. "You sure about that? What kind of business are you on anyway?"
"In Texas?" That wasn't sarcastic. They'd been there a few weeks ago. "Yeah, I'm sure." Of course he was; there was nothing he could say about this. Yeah, this world's not real and you're supposed to be dead and Katie doesn't exist and Sam's miserable and Mom's dead and I'm trying to fix it. Right. That wouldn't get him committed. "It's a long story."
"If that's where I had to get and it wasn't going to go any other way." There were further places he could have been, anyway. "If it's a long story then get talking. I want an explanation for this. While you were on your own, you're old enough it's your business. If Katie's in it though-"
"She's not in anything," he said quickly. No, he was taking whatever steps he could to keep her out of it. To keep her safe and naive of every dark thing he went after while they were traveling. "There are some people I've got to see. Katie made me take her along, it wasn't really my choice."
"She's with you, and if you're that quick to deny she's part of it, that tells me it's not exactly something good." He pointed out, before moving on. "People you've got to see about what? And you haven't tried very hard to get her back, so far."
"It's not-- it is good. It's.. pretty damn complicated." He sighed, sat down on the edge of the bed. Probably he'd be up and pacing again in five seconds, but... "I haven't crossed the Mason-Dixon line since the twentieth, I didn't really get the chance.."
"Maybe if you put as much effort into explaining as you are in trying to tell me it's complicated I'd know by now." He could only assume. "And you didn't try to get any help there either. Did you?"
"Yeah, and if I could explain without-- I'd do it if I could." He almost snapped that, and forced himself to calm down again. Shit. He didn't think it would be this damn.. oh, who the hell was he kidding? He'd been crap at dealing with this version of his father since he remembered the truth. It wasn't the same. "Help from where? We don't know anybody out here, Dad.."
"Without what, Dean? What's stopping you? What's making it so hard to tell? Tell me." If anything, the longer the conversation went on, the less willing he was to let it drop, and he hadn't been at all to start with. "Me, your mother, someone. For all the driving it sounds like you've been doing you're making it sound like you don't think anyone else is capable of doing any."
God, he wished he could say it. Just tell it all and not end up committed somewhere with padded walls and straightjackets and medication. He rubbed his forehead absently with his free hand, massaging away the beginnings of headache. "You'll think I lost it," he muttered, shaking his head. There was a tremulous smile in his voice, sardonic as hell. "Hell, I'm not totally convinced yet. ..I don't need help, Dad. The driving's really not the problem." Which was admitting there was a problem, wasn't it?
But there wasn't. No problem.
Except he was the only one conscious in a world full of sleepwalkers, and it was killing him slow.
He kept from saying that at least thinking he'd lost it would mean he had some idea of what to think. Maybe not something to tell Mary, if Dean was predicting right, but at least something to work off of. "Don't think at this point there'd be any explanation that wouldn't sound crazy. What's going on with you?" He hesitated somewhat at the last part. John had only meant help getting her home, but if Dean didn't seem to know that, he'd take advantage of the change and the opening. "And if that's not, what is?"
Dean shook his head, even though John couldn't see him do it. "I told you, it's a long story. My battery'd die. I can't.." He paused, decided to try and answer the other question instead, however vaguely, "Just like I said, there's a lot going on." That was one hell of an understatement.
"So you tell as much of it as you can. Unless your battery's about to die now." The request was simple, but the intent less than. The second half of it was almost a question. Anything I say going to make you even try to explain, Dean? He rested his head on his hand. "You don't say what though."
"No, I don't." He paused, thought for a moment. The hell can I say that's not gonna make this worse? "Something went wrong, and.. I'm fixing it, that's all." Yeah, that made it sound not-bad. He'd said it wasn't bad.
"And you can't tell me what. Right?" John guessed, voice rough. "Or what you're doing to fix it, though I guess those would go hand in hand with each other."
"Yeah. It's a lot of.. most of it's just that there are some people I've gotta see. That's all." Most of it. And the rest was hunting dark, dangerous things because he couldn't not, because as long as he knew they were out there, just going and talking to people and bringing the world around wasn't gonna be enough when people were dying.
"And you couldn't give any kind of an advance notice." He was done with the asking. It did just as good to state what was becoming a more annoying pattern the longer it went. "And you don't have any idea how long it's going to be."
"Didn't have a choice. Somethin' tells me I would've gotten stopped if I said I was leaving and didn't know how long I'd be and couldn't say why I was going." In other words, I'm not an idiot. "Another month or two maybe." Not that John would know when it was over. When it was over... this would go away.
"Couldn't really stop you though, could we?" As much trying to convince him not to go, or to give some kind of details there would have been. Even if it wasn't really something that wanted admitting. "And you don't know when you'd get the chance to drop her off, right?"
"Dunno." Yes, he did. He knew if he had stayed long enough, they would have convinced him. To stay with them, in this safe, normal world that didn't belong to him. "Maybe.. a couple of weeks." If he got to. If this didn't all go away - Katie included - before he could go home. That hurt, the memory. It stung.
"A couple weeks." John repeated, almost resigned to the situation as he turned to look at a picture propped up on the desk. "You can see if by then you can say anything. If not..." The shrug wasn't felt, but it wasn't seen either so it didn't matter. "You need anything you know where we are."
"Yeah, I know," he muttered, added almost despite himself, "I wish I could--" He cut himself off, forced himself to ammend it, "I'll come home when I can." Fuck. He bit his lip, punishment to himself. Slipping.
"Okay." Even if it wasn't quite, and he was coming out of the conversation with almost more questions than he'd started with. He picked up the frame, toying with it and the light that reflected off the glass for a long moment. "Is there anything you need?"
"Nah, I'm okay," he said, trying to force himself to sound casual again. Yeah, that'd work. "Tell Mom I said hi." He didn't like the way his voice cracked when he said that. Just because he might not get to say it again.
John set the frame back down, and it made a barely audible sound. "I will. ...tell your sister if she gives us an actual call she'll only be grounded for a year once she gets back." The attempted lightness didn't work too well.
Dean smiled at that, though it was forced, strained like everything else these days. "Yeah, I'll let her know. I'll make sure she calls." Look out for her. For the family. Even if they weren't real, even if this was all just...
"Thanks, and..." He trailed off for a moment, like he was trying to decide whether or not what was going to be said next should be. "Good luck with fixing whatever it is that went wrong."
It was funny how something that benign made him feel sick, and he swallowed, had to take a minute before he could speak again. "..yeah. Thanks. I'll.. talk to you soon."
"Right." The word was said simply, hiding the skeptical tone it was given in his head. "Good."
"..'bye, Dad," he muttered, allowed himself that before he hung up the phone. Before he could say anything stupider, before he could let himself hang on the line in the hope that maybe everything would stay this way if he just didn't hang up.
It wasn't the first contact, but it was the first where she'd actually said where she was. Who she was with. He didn't know if he was more bothered by the fact that it had taken this long for her to tell him, or that Dean hadn't seen fit to let him know.
Making his decision, he gave the phone a harsh look and called Dean.
The motel room in Foxboro was cramped, like everything else in the godforsaken state. Too many people and not enough room. Dean didn't like it, paced like a tiger in a cage half the time and had to stop short before he hit a wall. He hated these kinds of places. But it would work well enough for the next day or so until they moved on to the next city, and the next, and the next.
It was funny how life on the road felt so much more natural than life at home, even when he hadn't exactly remembered who he really was. He just fell into it, easy as lying, and he was Dean the hunter again instead of Dean the car mechanic, Dean the home-bound son. It was someone else entirely.
Maybe that was why he'd forgotten to call home, hadn't even thought about it. There'd been so much else to think about - the altercation in Sterling Heights, the hunt in Wolf Trap that had turned the name of the place pretty literal and almost landed him eviscerated. But when the phone rang, it took him by surprise, and it took him a minute to remember that no, his father was alive now. Whatever now was.
So he picked up. "Yeah?"
"Dean." John kept his voice somewhere near casual to start, leaning his elbows on the desk once he had the phone to his ear. "Anything you feel the need to tell me?" He could give him the chance to come clean, even if it would be a small one. There were more questions than just that in need of answering anyway.
Dean paused, considering that. It was one hell of a loaded question, with only about a billion different ways to answer wrong. Finally, he settled on the one thing he could reveal, and asked, "This about Katie? She's with me. Safe."
"And you were planning on telling me this when, exactly?" His voice rose that slight bit, not as much as it might have with an answer beside that. "You need to do some explaining, Dean, and not just because of that, though it's a big part."
He winced, but took the few seconds to think over his answer. "There's been a lot going on. I didn't know she didn't tell you." That was two excuses in one, and pretty lame ones - he sucked at lying to his dad. Dammit.
"So you just thought that I was fine with her taking off then? Planning a road trip I could see, fine. Sometime during the summer. What are you doing, anyway Dean? Where are you?" He pushed, even if it was still technically too early to need to.
Shit. Well, there went any chances of dodging those questions easily. "No, but she threatened to start walkin' if I didn't bring her, so what was I supposed to do?" That was maybe a little more argumentative than he should have been, and he forced himself to bite that back. For part of him it had been too long. For the lingering rest, not long enough. "Just some personal business," he lied, easy, adding, "I'm up in Mass." Which totally wasn't the other side of the damn country. He tried to make it sound casual, like that would help.
"To answer your question, you were supposed to bring her home, or wait somewhere and let me come get her if your business is that important." John lowered his voice some as he continued, keeping it firm. "And if it's just some personal business, why'd you feel the need to specify she was safe when you already told me she was with you? Why wouldn't she be?"
"She was on the side of the road, nowhere to stay 'til someone else could get there." He paused, a delicate silence, adding, "I'll bring her home soon as I can." When this is over, it won't matter. "On the road, that's all. Never know what could happen." Yeah, that didn't sound like total bullshit, either.
"And how long ago was that? You're telling me you haven't been anywhere long enough to give me the time to come get her?" His tone was almost commanding, covering the remnants of worry. "You'd better. What's gotten into you lately anyway Dean?"
"I've been moving a lot. Don't think I've been in one place more'n a couple of nights since October." Early October, at that. He shoved down his instinctive defensiveness, knowing it wouldn't make anything better. "..Couldn't tell you, sir," he muttered to the last question. Closer to old patterns. That made it easier.
"A couple of nights would have been more than enough time." John told him flatly, fixing a stare out the window. "You sure about that? What kind of business are you on anyway?"
"In Texas?" That wasn't sarcastic. They'd been there a few weeks ago. "Yeah, I'm sure." Of course he was; there was nothing he could say about this. Yeah, this world's not real and you're supposed to be dead and Katie doesn't exist and Sam's miserable and Mom's dead and I'm trying to fix it. Right. That wouldn't get him committed. "It's a long story."
"If that's where I had to get and it wasn't going to go any other way." There were further places he could have been, anyway. "If it's a long story then get talking. I want an explanation for this. While you were on your own, you're old enough it's your business. If Katie's in it though-"
"She's not in anything," he said quickly. No, he was taking whatever steps he could to keep her out of it. To keep her safe and naive of every dark thing he went after while they were traveling. "There are some people I've got to see. Katie made me take her along, it wasn't really my choice."
"She's with you, and if you're that quick to deny she's part of it, that tells me it's not exactly something good." He pointed out, before moving on. "People you've got to see about what? And you haven't tried very hard to get her back, so far."
"It's not-- it is good. It's.. pretty damn complicated." He sighed, sat down on the edge of the bed. Probably he'd be up and pacing again in five seconds, but... "I haven't crossed the Mason-Dixon line since the twentieth, I didn't really get the chance.."
"Maybe if you put as much effort into explaining as you are in trying to tell me it's complicated I'd know by now." He could only assume. "And you didn't try to get any help there either. Did you?"
"Yeah, and if I could explain without-- I'd do it if I could." He almost snapped that, and forced himself to calm down again. Shit. He didn't think it would be this damn.. oh, who the hell was he kidding? He'd been crap at dealing with this version of his father since he remembered the truth. It wasn't the same. "Help from where? We don't know anybody out here, Dad.."
"Without what, Dean? What's stopping you? What's making it so hard to tell? Tell me." If anything, the longer the conversation went on, the less willing he was to let it drop, and he hadn't been at all to start with. "Me, your mother, someone. For all the driving it sounds like you've been doing you're making it sound like you don't think anyone else is capable of doing any."
God, he wished he could say it. Just tell it all and not end up committed somewhere with padded walls and straightjackets and medication. He rubbed his forehead absently with his free hand, massaging away the beginnings of headache. "You'll think I lost it," he muttered, shaking his head. There was a tremulous smile in his voice, sardonic as hell. "Hell, I'm not totally convinced yet. ..I don't need help, Dad. The driving's really not the problem." Which was admitting there was a problem, wasn't it?
But there wasn't. No problem.
Except he was the only one conscious in a world full of sleepwalkers, and it was killing him slow.
He kept from saying that at least thinking he'd lost it would mean he had some idea of what to think. Maybe not something to tell Mary, if Dean was predicting right, but at least something to work off of. "Don't think at this point there'd be any explanation that wouldn't sound crazy. What's going on with you?" He hesitated somewhat at the last part. John had only meant help getting her home, but if Dean didn't seem to know that, he'd take advantage of the change and the opening. "And if that's not, what is?"
Dean shook his head, even though John couldn't see him do it. "I told you, it's a long story. My battery'd die. I can't.." He paused, decided to try and answer the other question instead, however vaguely, "Just like I said, there's a lot going on." That was one hell of an understatement.
"So you tell as much of it as you can. Unless your battery's about to die now." The request was simple, but the intent less than. The second half of it was almost a question. Anything I say going to make you even try to explain, Dean? He rested his head on his hand. "You don't say what though."
"No, I don't." He paused, thought for a moment. The hell can I say that's not gonna make this worse? "Something went wrong, and.. I'm fixing it, that's all." Yeah, that made it sound not-bad. He'd said it wasn't bad.
"And you can't tell me what. Right?" John guessed, voice rough. "Or what you're doing to fix it, though I guess those would go hand in hand with each other."
"Yeah. It's a lot of.. most of it's just that there are some people I've gotta see. That's all." Most of it. And the rest was hunting dark, dangerous things because he couldn't not, because as long as he knew they were out there, just going and talking to people and bringing the world around wasn't gonna be enough when people were dying.
"And you couldn't give any kind of an advance notice." He was done with the asking. It did just as good to state what was becoming a more annoying pattern the longer it went. "And you don't have any idea how long it's going to be."
"Didn't have a choice. Somethin' tells me I would've gotten stopped if I said I was leaving and didn't know how long I'd be and couldn't say why I was going." In other words, I'm not an idiot. "Another month or two maybe." Not that John would know when it was over. When it was over... this would go away.
"Couldn't really stop you though, could we?" As much trying to convince him not to go, or to give some kind of details there would have been. Even if it wasn't really something that wanted admitting. "And you don't know when you'd get the chance to drop her off, right?"
"Dunno." Yes, he did. He knew if he had stayed long enough, they would have convinced him. To stay with them, in this safe, normal world that didn't belong to him. "Maybe.. a couple of weeks." If he got to. If this didn't all go away - Katie included - before he could go home. That hurt, the memory. It stung.
"A couple weeks." John repeated, almost resigned to the situation as he turned to look at a picture propped up on the desk. "You can see if by then you can say anything. If not..." The shrug wasn't felt, but it wasn't seen either so it didn't matter. "You need anything you know where we are."
"Yeah, I know," he muttered, added almost despite himself, "I wish I could--" He cut himself off, forced himself to ammend it, "I'll come home when I can." Fuck. He bit his lip, punishment to himself. Slipping.
"Okay." Even if it wasn't quite, and he was coming out of the conversation with almost more questions than he'd started with. He picked up the frame, toying with it and the light that reflected off the glass for a long moment. "Is there anything you need?"
"Nah, I'm okay," he said, trying to force himself to sound casual again. Yeah, that'd work. "Tell Mom I said hi." He didn't like the way his voice cracked when he said that. Just because he might not get to say it again.
John set the frame back down, and it made a barely audible sound. "I will. ...tell your sister if she gives us an actual call she'll only be grounded for a year once she gets back." The attempted lightness didn't work too well.
Dean smiled at that, though it was forced, strained like everything else these days. "Yeah, I'll let her know. I'll make sure she calls." Look out for her. For the family. Even if they weren't real, even if this was all just...
"Thanks, and..." He trailed off for a moment, like he was trying to decide whether or not what was going to be said next should be. "Good luck with fixing whatever it is that went wrong."
It was funny how something that benign made him feel sick, and he swallowed, had to take a minute before he could speak again. "..yeah. Thanks. I'll.. talk to you soon."
"Right." The word was said simply, hiding the skeptical tone it was given in his head. "Good."
"..'bye, Dad," he muttered, allowed himself that before he hung up the phone. Before he could say anything stupider, before he could let himself hang on the line in the hope that maybe everything would stay this way if he just didn't hang up.