Renegade 4/7
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairings: Dean, Sam, Adam, slight Dean/female population, slight Mary/John
Summary: SEQUEL to All Along the Watchtower. Takes place about 5 years after the end, and deals with the boys lives with the Winchesters, with a main focus on Dean's continuing struggles.
Disclaimer: If only I owned the Winchester boys.
A/N: Whenever I have free time I feel like I just read fics instead of updating my own... sigh.
Time passes in odd ways. Sometimes it seems so slow that an hour feels like it’s a lifetime, and others you blink and the seasons have changed from winter to spring.
To Sam it seemed to pass at an even keel...before it came grinding to a halting stop. Sam's life had been a series of things he didn't understand. He had never understood their father. He had never understood that the way that he could hate him and his brothers so much. He didn’t understand the pleasure he seemed to derive from beating Dean…. None of it had ever made sense to his young mind, and he suspected that it would never make sense to him.
It was the middle of March and it was uncharacteristically warm in Lawrence. Dean had been working at the garage with their dad going on six months, and he had turned eighteen just two months prior. Sam missed Dean at school, but was glad that he was still there at home. Dean had always been the one steady constant thing in Sam’s life. He understood Dean.
He didn’t understand death. He didn’t understand that even though he thought his friend Barry was ok he really wasn’t. He didn’t understand how Barry thought it was so bad that he broke into the school over the weekend and slit his wrists in the first floor girl’s bathroom.
Sam just didn’t understand.
~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~
Sam’s school was cancelled for the week, but no one knew why yet. Mr. Wyatt, Sam’s English teacher came to the Winchester house around noon. He asked to speak to Sam, and in his kind quiet voice he told him about Barry. Sam couldn’t comprehend at first. Then as the news sunk in, and words like ‘manic depression’ and ‘there was nothing you could have done’ were thrown out Sam turned inconsolable.
“He was my friend…” Sam sobbed. Mary tried to hold him, but he just pushed her away. He sat curled in on himself and cried as hard as he had when he was seven and scared and had just moved in to live with John and Mary.
Mr. Wyatt quietly excused himself as Mary continued to try and calm Sam down. She rubbed his back in slow soothing circles. She heard him whispering something through his tears.
Mary crouched down and put her ear close to his mouth.
“I want Dean….” He repeated brokenly.
“It’s ok, baby. Dean’s coming.”
Mary went quietly into the kitchen and called the garage. Mike Guenther, John’s partner, answered the phone.
“Y’ello?”
“Mike? It’s Mary; Dean needs to come home now.”
“You got it sweet stuff.”
That was the brilliant thing about Mike- he never asked questions.
Mary sat back down with Sam, who was still inconsolable on the couch. A few minutes later she heard the tell-tale rumble of the Impala. Dean must have run from the car to the porch because the next thing she knew he was bounding into the house.
“What happened! Is he ok?!” Dean’s green eyes were frantic. Mary hadn’t seen them look like that since he was twelve years old and the boys had first come to live with her and John.
“Barry died.” She told him in explanation.
Dean’s green eyes softened, transforming from a dark feral emerald to a clear sad moss.
Gently Dean lowered himself onto the couch on the opposite side of a still crying Sam.
Dean wrapped his arms around his baby brother, who nestled into the embrace, crawling into Dean’s lap just as he had done as a child.
“Shhhh, baby…” Dean comforted. “I’ve got you.” He rocked his little brother gently back and forth, his mouth pressed into the top of Sam’s head.
Mary’s heart broke all over again for her sons. She wasn’t shocked that after all they had been through together that Sam still valued Dean’s comfort and protection over hers. It was so odd to see Dean like this after so many years of the boys living with them because as the years passed Dean usually used a mask of obnoxious sarcasm to mask his true feelings.
Mary’s adopted sons had learned many years ago that they were safe in the Winchester house and they had all flourished under that love, but seeing them now, Mary knew that they would always rely on each other instinctually.
Dean sat for hours with a much too big Sam nestled in his lap. Sam’s tears had eventually run dry and he had fallen into a fitful sleep. Dean and Mary had conversed in whispers while he had dozed. Mary was worried about Sam, and she knew Dean was too. Dean told her that he would take the next day off work, to stay with Sam. Mary agreed with this idea, and she knew that John would understand and let Dean have the day off. Mary had also called Missouri, who agreed to come to have dinner with them in order to check up on Sam.
~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~
Sam woke up while Mary was fixing dinner. Adam had come home a little before and seeing the way Sam was clinging to Dean he immediately followed suit, even though he didn’t understand what was happening.
Mary glanced through the kitchen doorway at her boys. Adam had joined his big brothers on the couch. He was snuggled up under the arm Dean wasn’t using to hold Sam with. Adam’s little head was nestled next to Sam’s on Dean’s broadening chest. She could tell that he and Dean were quietly talking.
Sam stirred awake a little bit later. His slanted blue-green eyes met Adam’s large baby-blues. He sniffled a little and felt another tear slide down his cheek. Adam reached out one little hand and gently wiped his brother’s cheek.
“It’s ok Sammy.” Dean whispered into his ear. Sam squeezed his eyes closed and pressed himself closer to Dean.
“Why?” Sam just asked, burying his nose into the side of Dean’s chest.
He accepted Adam’s little arms circling around him as his baby brother comforted him too. Dean pulled them both against him harder, leaving no space between the brothers.
“I don’t really know, but he was sick Sammy.” Mary had told Dean everything about the reasons behind Barry’s suicide- the depression, anxiety disorder, and his less than stellar home situation.
“There wasn’t anything you could do to help him. You were his friend, and I bet you made him happy for the last little bit he was on earth.” Dean tried to comfort him.
“S’my fault.” Sam sniffled wetly.
“No.” Dean said a bit forcefully. “It’s not; he made that decision on his own, Sammy. He’s in a better place.”
“Really?” The question was child-like.
“Yep. I bet he’s up there enjoying the hell out of the clouds and having wings and all that shit.” Dean told him, using his very literal version
of heaven to paint a picture in his brother’s head.
Sam sniffled, but didn’t say anything else.
~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~
Missouri came for dinner bearing a big plate of oatmeal raisin cookies- Sam’s favorite. After a subdued meal, she and Sam went and sat on the whitewashed porch swing.
Mary wished she knew what they were saying, but she knew that if anyone could talk sense into her boys, straight-talking Missouri Mosely could.
Almost a full hour later the pair came back in the house, Sam still looking sad, but a little bit better. Missouri gave all the boys hugs and kisses before she slung the strap of her pocketbook over her shoulder.
“Goodbye Winchesters.” She declared before showing herself to the door.
Mary smiled to herself. She was grateful that Missouri had come into their lives.
Next
Characters/Pairings: Dean, Sam, Adam, slight Dean/female population, slight Mary/John
Summary: SEQUEL to All Along the Watchtower. Takes place about 5 years after the end, and deals with the boys lives with the Winchesters, with a main focus on Dean's continuing struggles.
Disclaimer: If only I owned the Winchester boys.
A/N: Whenever I have free time I feel like I just read fics instead of updating my own... sigh.
Time passes in odd ways. Sometimes it seems so slow that an hour feels like it’s a lifetime, and others you blink and the seasons have changed from winter to spring.
To Sam it seemed to pass at an even keel...before it came grinding to a halting stop. Sam's life had been a series of things he didn't understand. He had never understood their father. He had never understood that the way that he could hate him and his brothers so much. He didn’t understand the pleasure he seemed to derive from beating Dean…. None of it had ever made sense to his young mind, and he suspected that it would never make sense to him.
It was the middle of March and it was uncharacteristically warm in Lawrence. Dean had been working at the garage with their dad going on six months, and he had turned eighteen just two months prior. Sam missed Dean at school, but was glad that he was still there at home. Dean had always been the one steady constant thing in Sam’s life. He understood Dean.
He didn’t understand death. He didn’t understand that even though he thought his friend Barry was ok he really wasn’t. He didn’t understand how Barry thought it was so bad that he broke into the school over the weekend and slit his wrists in the first floor girl’s bathroom.
Sam just didn’t understand.
~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~
Sam’s school was cancelled for the week, but no one knew why yet. Mr. Wyatt, Sam’s English teacher came to the Winchester house around noon. He asked to speak to Sam, and in his kind quiet voice he told him about Barry. Sam couldn’t comprehend at first. Then as the news sunk in, and words like ‘manic depression’ and ‘there was nothing you could have done’ were thrown out Sam turned inconsolable.
“He was my friend…” Sam sobbed. Mary tried to hold him, but he just pushed her away. He sat curled in on himself and cried as hard as he had when he was seven and scared and had just moved in to live with John and Mary.
Mr. Wyatt quietly excused himself as Mary continued to try and calm Sam down. She rubbed his back in slow soothing circles. She heard him whispering something through his tears.
Mary crouched down and put her ear close to his mouth.
“I want Dean….” He repeated brokenly.
“It’s ok, baby. Dean’s coming.”
Mary went quietly into the kitchen and called the garage. Mike Guenther, John’s partner, answered the phone.
“Y’ello?”
“Mike? It’s Mary; Dean needs to come home now.”
“You got it sweet stuff.”
That was the brilliant thing about Mike- he never asked questions.
Mary sat back down with Sam, who was still inconsolable on the couch. A few minutes later she heard the tell-tale rumble of the Impala. Dean must have run from the car to the porch because the next thing she knew he was bounding into the house.
“What happened! Is he ok?!” Dean’s green eyes were frantic. Mary hadn’t seen them look like that since he was twelve years old and the boys had first come to live with her and John.
“Barry died.” She told him in explanation.
Dean’s green eyes softened, transforming from a dark feral emerald to a clear sad moss.
Gently Dean lowered himself onto the couch on the opposite side of a still crying Sam.
Dean wrapped his arms around his baby brother, who nestled into the embrace, crawling into Dean’s lap just as he had done as a child.
“Shhhh, baby…” Dean comforted. “I’ve got you.” He rocked his little brother gently back and forth, his mouth pressed into the top of Sam’s head.
Mary’s heart broke all over again for her sons. She wasn’t shocked that after all they had been through together that Sam still valued Dean’s comfort and protection over hers. It was so odd to see Dean like this after so many years of the boys living with them because as the years passed Dean usually used a mask of obnoxious sarcasm to mask his true feelings.
Mary’s adopted sons had learned many years ago that they were safe in the Winchester house and they had all flourished under that love, but seeing them now, Mary knew that they would always rely on each other instinctually.
Dean sat for hours with a much too big Sam nestled in his lap. Sam’s tears had eventually run dry and he had fallen into a fitful sleep. Dean and Mary had conversed in whispers while he had dozed. Mary was worried about Sam, and she knew Dean was too. Dean told her that he would take the next day off work, to stay with Sam. Mary agreed with this idea, and she knew that John would understand and let Dean have the day off. Mary had also called Missouri, who agreed to come to have dinner with them in order to check up on Sam.
~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~
Sam woke up while Mary was fixing dinner. Adam had come home a little before and seeing the way Sam was clinging to Dean he immediately followed suit, even though he didn’t understand what was happening.
Mary glanced through the kitchen doorway at her boys. Adam had joined his big brothers on the couch. He was snuggled up under the arm Dean wasn’t using to hold Sam with. Adam’s little head was nestled next to Sam’s on Dean’s broadening chest. She could tell that he and Dean were quietly talking.
Sam stirred awake a little bit later. His slanted blue-green eyes met Adam’s large baby-blues. He sniffled a little and felt another tear slide down his cheek. Adam reached out one little hand and gently wiped his brother’s cheek.
“It’s ok Sammy.” Dean whispered into his ear. Sam squeezed his eyes closed and pressed himself closer to Dean.
“Why?” Sam just asked, burying his nose into the side of Dean’s chest.
He accepted Adam’s little arms circling around him as his baby brother comforted him too. Dean pulled them both against him harder, leaving no space between the brothers.
“I don’t really know, but he was sick Sammy.” Mary had told Dean everything about the reasons behind Barry’s suicide- the depression, anxiety disorder, and his less than stellar home situation.
“There wasn’t anything you could do to help him. You were his friend, and I bet you made him happy for the last little bit he was on earth.” Dean tried to comfort him.
“S’my fault.” Sam sniffled wetly.
“No.” Dean said a bit forcefully. “It’s not; he made that decision on his own, Sammy. He’s in a better place.”
“Really?” The question was child-like.
“Yep. I bet he’s up there enjoying the hell out of the clouds and having wings and all that shit.” Dean told him, using his very literal version
of heaven to paint a picture in his brother’s head.
Sam sniffled, but didn’t say anything else.
~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~
Missouri came for dinner bearing a big plate of oatmeal raisin cookies- Sam’s favorite. After a subdued meal, she and Sam went and sat on the whitewashed porch swing.
Mary wished she knew what they were saying, but she knew that if anyone could talk sense into her boys, straight-talking Missouri Mosely could.
Almost a full hour later the pair came back in the house, Sam still looking sad, but a little bit better. Missouri gave all the boys hugs and kisses before she slung the strap of her pocketbook over her shoulder.
“Goodbye Winchesters.” She declared before showing herself to the door.
Mary smiled to herself. She was grateful that Missouri had come into their lives.
Next