Who They Were

Jun 07, 2010 19:48

Title: Who They Were
Author:  hunters_retreat 
Series:  Story's End
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: G for this.  R for the overall.  Eventually :P
Summary:   Bobby has a proposition for the boys that might be too good to pass up.


Who They Were 
Part Four of Story's End

“I don’t know.”

Dean heard the pause and wondered what could make Sam sound so hesitant.  Things had been pretty good lately.  Sam was doing well in school and Dean had figured out how to take care of the more mundane parts of life.  Other than the fact that they were without their father, Dean couldn’t remember a time when Sam had been happier.

He didn’t feel betrayed anymore, every night when he came home and remembered his father was still gone.  He didn’t worry so much about CPS taking Sam from him.  They had plans in place, ways to contact one another should they ever be separated by the law, but he didn’t sit around worrying about it like he had in those first few days.

He was managing to get along just fine as a handyman and he realized that the houses and apartments Leta owned were no different than the Impala.  They all had their needs and voices.  It just took a little while to learn to hear them and he was getting better at it every day.

Sam looked up from the phone and smiled at Dean, mouthing “Bobby” to him from across the kitchen.

Dean nodded, but then Sam’s attention was back on the phone.  “No, I know you guys could use some help Bobby, it’s just, where would we put it?  Child Protection Services still comes around to check on us.  It’s not like we could hide those sort of books from them, let alone the rest of it.”

Sam rolled his eyes, then looked down, his bare feet kicking at the tile floor.  “Look, I’ll talk to Dean tonight when he gets off work and see how he feels about it.”  Dean could almost hear Bobby on the other end, telling them to take care of one another before his brother hung up.

“What’s happening Sammy?”  Dean asked as he took a seat at the table.

“Bobby.  He had a … uh … well … a proposition really.”

“You told him I don’t swing like that, right?”

“Dean you swing whatever way the wind blows you.”

Dean smiled.  “True.  So what did Bobby want?”

“He wants us to help him out.”

“Damn it.”  Dean said, shaking his head as he stood up, pacing to the counter.  “I told Bobby we were done with hunting.  I never thought he’d try to go behind my back and get you to do it.”

“No, it’s not that.  Well, not exactly.  Remember how Bobby used to talk about having all that research to do because of the other hunters who needed his help?”

“Yeah.”

“He wants us to help him research.  He said it’s not much, but he’d be willing to give us a percentage of the Salvage Yard proceeds to help him out when he needs it.  He’s got the books and all that, but he said we could maybe get a place to keep the good stuff.  No one would have to know about it. Everything would still go through Bobby.”

Dean didn’t know what to say.  It was an interesting offer, and part of that because he knew Bobby really did need the help.  He’d been saying it for years and if Dean would have thought John would let him before he’d have offered to help out.  Bobby had always been good to them and Dean had never got a cruel remark or look from the other hunter.  He’d always been good to Sam and that was good enough for Dean.

“You’re right.  Where would we keep a Supernatural library?”

Sam nodded.  “Yeah.  Something to think about, you know?”

“You think so?”

Sam looked at him and sighed.  “Look Dean, I know you think I’m just a kid, but I know you.  I know what you’ve done.  You loved hunting, and I get why you felt like you needed to stop, but this would give us a chance to help.  It’s not just you Dean.  I want to be out there too.  We still aren’t a step closer to Mom’s killer and what killed Dad could have killed anyone.  We make the world a safer place by helping Bobby.”

“I know Sam.  I just … I’m not willing to jeopardize this.”

Sam nodded, looking at Dean like there was something to figure out.  “So … what if we had Bobby come out for a few days?  He could come take a look and give us some ideas and maybe he’d see a way we could help that wouldn’t send us running from CPS.”

Dean nodded, thinking Sam’s words through.  “Good point Sam.  Maybe Bobby would be able to figure this out.”

It didn’t take much to talk Bobby into coming to visit.  He hadn’t been there since John’s death and Dean and Sam were waiting for him, sitting on the top step of the porch.  Dean had a bottle of coke in hand and Sam swiped it from him, taking a minute to let the coolness settle into his fingers before taking a long swig.

“That’s mine.”  Dean said without any heat.

“Yeah.”

“You could go get your own.”

“You could share.”

Dean laughed as he leaned back, resting his back on the wooden planks.  They probably needed sanded down and painted.  It was the last of the list of things he wanted to do to the place.  He’d been trying out his skills on their rented home instead of other people’s and it’d turned out pretty well.  Sam sat beside him, their thighs brushing against each other as they moved.  Sam drank down the soda and Dean just watched him for a minute, taking in the man his little brother was becoming.

John Winchester hadn’t been an easy man to live with.  It was even harder between John and Sam though because they were so much alike.  Dean hated it sometimes, the way Sam just got what John was implying with his words when Dean had to really pay attention to everything about his father to see through it all.  It was effortless for Sam and yet they’d gone head to head every time Dean was turning around.

Without John to irritate Sam, he was calmer.  He was taking on more responsibility around the house, trying to keep everything up since Dean was working to pay the bills.  He did the laundry and kept everything clean, never even bitching when Dean left his stuff all over.  He’d even tried cooking more.  It was sort of a disaster the first few times because Dean had always taken care of the cooking before that, but Sam was getting better.  He’d even asked Dean to bring him back some cooking books from the library while he was there.  All in all, they had settled in better than Dean had ever expected.

He heard the rasp of the old truck as it pulled into the driveway and Dean sat up quickly.  Sam handed him the coke and was running off the porch to throw open the driver’s door.  Bobby didn’t seem surprised at all by Sam’s affection and it made Dean glad they’d asked the hunter to come over.

He smiled as he watched Sam talking to Bobby, too low to hear much but his gestures more than enough to make up for it.

He stood, taking another long drink to finish off the soda before dropping it onto the porch and making his way down.

“Hey Bobby.  Thanks for coming out.”

Bobby pulled him into a quick embrace.  “Damn good to see you boys.”  He said, his smile as warm as ever.

Bobby hadn’t always been glad to see them pulling into his salvage yard, but that had always been about John and they’d known it.  Bobby enjoyed having them around and they’d never felt out of place with him.  Even with John gone, there had never been a question about getting help from him.  They knew Bobby would never turn his back on them.  It wasn’t so true with all of their father’s contacts.

“Good to see you too Bobby.”

They stared at one another a few minutes and Dean could see Bobby checking him out, making sure he was healthy and strong.  When he looked Dean in the eye, he could tell he was looking for more than that as well.  “Come on in.  After that drive you could probably use a drink.”

It didn’t take long before they were sitting around the table, Bobby taking a long pull off a beer as Sam stole Dean’s glass of iced tea.  Bobby watched the back and forth with a small smile on his lips and when he met Dean’s eyes, Dean knew he saw that they were going to be okay.

“So, you wanted some help?”  Dean finally broke the silence.

Bobby nodded as he set the bottle down.  “You boys know how long I’ve been saying I need help.  To be honest, I’d asked John more than once to let you boys stay with me for a bit, get some projects done, but the man was stubborn as all hell and wouldn’t trust anyone with your safety for any longer than he had to.”

Sam snorted at that comment, but Dean knew it was just reflex.  As much as his brother and father had fought, in the last few months he’d come to understand just how much respect Sam had for John, even if he didn’t always agree with the choices he’d made.

“Figured since you seemed to have settled in pretty well here, it might be a good time to make the offer again.  It’s up to you boys.”

“What sort of project are you talking about?”  Dean asked.  He had an idea that Sam knew more than he did.  He knew his brother was worried about all the things Dean had supposedly given up for him.  It was a load of shit really.  Dean had given up diner food and bloody hunts, bad motel rooms and constant worry about his family.  All the hunt had given him was a dead father.  Sure, he missed the hunt, missed being able to save people, but it didn’t give enough to make up for the fear of losing Sam.

“Well, from time to time I might need help with specific hunts, just researching lore for other hunters when they get in a bind.  Mostly though, I’ve wanted to put together the lore we have.  If hunters weren’t so damn paranoid, we’d have a vast resource we could share.  We don’t though and that’s what I want to do something about.  I want to create a database that all hunters can draw on.”

“That’s a huge undertaking.”  Dean said, trying to imagine the amount of research and the time it would take to compile all the information from the books.  He thought about the times they’d been without information and they’d had to wait while Bobby was finding the information, hunts where someone had died because they couldn’t figure out what it was to stop it.

“It’d be invaluable.”  Sam was looking at Bobby like he’d just given him the best present in the world and Dean was a bit jealous of that look, but he knew how much Sam enjoyed sneaking a peek into the dark tomes Bobby had.

“Once we got enough information into the database it would be.  And I’d keep your involvement out of it.  I’d keep all the calls myself, just calling you when I needed the information.”

“Sam had a going point before though. It’s not like we could have a database like that and hide it.  I won’t risk Child Protective Services coming in and taking Sam away because they found a bunch of occult books in the house.”

Bobby nodded.  “You said you have a pretty good sized basement, right?”

“Yeah.”

“So why don’t we just create a false wall?  Create a work space behind it so that CPS doesn’t know.”

Dean looked down, unsure of what to do.  He liked the idea actually.  They could still be hunting, would be learning more and more, and if he decided to start hunting on his own once Sam was 18, he’d still feel like he was part of the game.  But … “They’ve already seen the place.  They’ll notice if we go from a large basement to a small space.”

Bobby sighed and ran his fingers across his beard in thought.

“The McAllister place.”  Sam said suddenly.

“What?”

“The McAllister place.  They’re moving out at the end of the month.  Mrs. Sunday hasn’t moved anyone else in yet because she wanted to repaint.  I bet if you talked to her, she’d let us move out there.  Child Protective Services hasn’t seen it yet.  If we plan it right, we could have a fake room built into that basement before they ever saw it, and their basement is even bigger than ours.”

Dean thought about it for a minute.  “She wanted the place updated.” He said, thinking aloud.  “But I’ve updated this one while we lived here.  Could tell her to rent this place instead.”

“It’s closer to town and easier to rent out.”  Sam said encouragingly.  “Tell her some crap about me needing to get away from the memory of Dad and I bet she’d buy it.”

Dean frowned at Sam’s words and he could see the same worry in Bobby’s eyes but Sam just shook his head.  “Come on Dean, we could make this work.  Think about it.  We could even add in what we know from Dad’s journal.”

“I know a few hunters that would share their own libraries and journals once we got a project like this underway.”  Bobby added in.  “And like I told Sam before, I’d be willing to pay you boys for the work you put in.”

Dean scoffed because money wasn’t the issue.  It wouldn’t hurt of course, but it wasn’t like that was going to entice him into it.  “I just … alright.  Let me talk to Leta.  If she’ll let us move, we’ll figure this out somehow.”

Sam’s smile was blinding and when Bobby offered to take them out to dinner, Dean declined, letting Sam and Bobby go up to the local bar and grill.  He walked around the house for a while, trying to wrap his head around the project of Bobby’s.

When he thought about it, without Sam and CPS and their Dad painting the picture, he wanted to do it.  He wanted to be of use and this was a way to do it without endangering Sam.  He could imagine doing the reading and putting together a database that would allow them to track a creature by its attacks and what it left behind.  If they could get other hunters to give feedback as Bobby helped them, they could refine it, give verification to the often shaky lore that surrounded the supernatural.

He thought about moving to the McAllister place and being able to take the shotgun out and planting cans on the old fence and getting in some target practice where no one would hear it.  He thought about sparring with Sam to make sure neither of them ever lost their edge, because it plagued him sometimes to know that if something came they weren’t at their best.

And he thought about Sam and sitting on the front porch swing with him in the mid afternoon heat.  Thought about the creek that ran less than a mile from the back of the property and the perfect swimming hole they’d found there when John had still been around and they’d been slacking off while he’d been doing research.  He thought about lying in the grass with his brother and knowing they were safe.

He was hungry and thought about getting something from the kitchen, but instead, he picked up the phone.

“Hello?”

“Leta?  It’s Dean Winchester.”

“Dean, I wasn’t expecting a call today.  Is something wrong?”

“No, not really.  I just needed to talk to you about something.  Is this a good time?”

“Of course honey.  How is that brother of yours doing?”

“Sam’s doing good ma’am.  He’s actually why I was calling.”

“What is it?”

“The McAllister place is opening up at the end of the month.  I know you wanted to have it repainted and re-floored, updating some of the hardware and all that before you rented it again.”

“Yeah, we talked about that last week.”

“Well, the thing is, I’d like to take it.  I’ve update the place were in, and except for a new coat of paint, it’s ready.  I’d like to move out there with Sam and update it while we’re there.”

“You think it’s a good idea to move Sam away from his friends like that Dean?”

“Yeah I do.  Everytime I turn around there’s some new reminder that my Dad isn’t coming home.  We’re doing pretty good, but I’d like a fresh start.  I was thinking someplace like that, plenty of room for the two of us, maybe get him a dog.  I heard those are supposed to be good, you know, for stress and grief and all that.  We never had a dog before.”

He was rambling and he knew it, but bits and pieces of things he’d picked up in the months since his father’s death were coming out and it felt like the smartest thing he’d done since deciding to keep them together.  “Honestly,   I’ve learned a lot since I’ve been working for you and I’d like to try my hand at making the McAllister place into something.  I’d be a learning curve though, so if I lived there, at least I could take my time and I’d be the one living with my mistakes.”

“If that’s what you want, you got it Dean.  I was worried about renting that place actually.  It’s too far from town for most people.  The place you’re at is far easier to rent and I know how nice you’ve made it.  So, you’ll move out to McAllister at the end of the month and I’ll put your place up for rent for the 15th of the next month so you have time to paint it first.  You want to come by the house tomorrow afternoon and I’ll get a lease ready for you?”

Dean was flabbergasted at her speed, but he knew Leta.  She wasn’t one to second guess herself and when she did something she went all out.  He didn’t know if it really would be easier for her, but she had decided to help Sam and Dean and he didn’t put it past her to take a loss on her property to keep helping them.

“Tomorrow afternoon would be great.  I’ll be over at the other apartment complex until lunch time anyway.  Should I pick you up something on the way?”

She laughed and Dean smiled because she had one of those contagious laughs.  “Just bring yourself and I’ll supply the lunch.”

“Dinner too?”  Dean teased.

“Can’t have you boys starving on my watch.  Think Sam would enjoy some lasagna tomorrow night?”

“I’m sure he’d love it.”

“Go on then.” Leta said over the phone.  “I’ll see you for lunch tomorrow.”

“Alright.  Good night Leta, and thanks again.  For everything.”

He heard footsteps as he hung the phone up and looked back to see Sam in the kitchen doorway, a take out box in hand.

“Who was that?”  Sam asked as he handed Dean the box.

Once upon a time he would have told Sam it was none of his business.  There was nothing in his life anymore though that wasn’t Sam’s though.  “Leta. She wanted to know if you want lasagna for dinner tomorrow night.”

Sam smiled.  “I’m a growing boy Dean.”

“Uh hu.”  Dean opened the box and smiled at the surf and turf in the box.  Damn, there were times he loved his little brother.  Sam grabbed a soda for Dean out of the fridge and handed it to him as he took a seat, Bobby coming in a second later.

Dean took a bite of steak and groaned, knowing without looking that both Bobby and Sam were rolling their eyes at him.  He took a drink to clear his throat then decided to drop the bomb.   “She also said we have the McAllister place.  I’ll sign the lease tomorrow so we can move out at the end of the month.  You’ll have to help me paint this place once we move out though Sam.  Got to have it ready by the 15th so she can move someone else in here.”

“Damn boy, you work fast.”

Dean smiled at Bobby, knowing the other man was pleased with his decision.  “It’s the right thing to do.  I take it you know someone that could get a fake room built in pretty fast, right?  Someone discrete?”

“Yeah.  Got a friend who’s done a couple things on the hush hush.  Helped him out with a poltergeist a few years back and he’s returned a few favors.”

“Awesome.  Send him our way at the beginning of the month and we’ll get things started.  And I’ll set up a PO Box close by for you to send things to once we get started.”

“Always said when John got something in his head there was no stopping him.  You boys certainly got that from your old man.”

Sam draped an arm over Dean’s shoulder as he leaned in.  “Nope, he got that from us.”

The rest of the evening was taken up with plans.  Sam had pulled out some paper and they’d drawn a floor plan from what they remembered of the McAllister place.  Once they’d made tentative plans for the operations room - Sam kept telling him he’d watched too many spy movies but the name stuck anyway - Bobby went off to bed.

Sam and Dean stayed up, making other plans, like who got what room and what they would do first.  Dean wanted to do the floors, but Sam wanted to paint, pointing out the new floors might get messed up when they painted.

They talked about the database and how to organize things, how to make the information accessible to them when needed, and how to store the books as Bobby sent them.

It was late when they finally gave in, but even as they stopped talking about it, neither moved from their place on the couch.  They didn’t have the energy to get up and go to bed when they were both comfortable, Dean with his legs stretched out on the coffee table, slumped half sideways, one arms behind his head with the other wrapped over Sam.  Sam was on his side, his head resting on Dean’s chest.  The old blanket was thrown over Sam’s long legs and tucked up around Dean as his little brother smiled sleepily up at him.

“Gonna be a good move Dean.”  Sam promised with slurred words.

“Yeah Sammy.  Just me and you right?  All that space for us?  Don’t know what I’ll do with myself out there.”

Sam snuggled in closer.  “Mmmmmm, stay with me.  Make everything good Dean.”

He didn’t know what Sam was talking about, didn’t know if his brother was even awake anymore so he just smiled.  It didn’t matter.  He’d stay with Sam no matter what.  It was who they were, what they were.  Nothing could change that.

On to Goodbye

verse: story's end, *fanfic: supernatural, pre-stanford era, au

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