And Now for the Cosmic Egg's Next Trick
“Hey, Bobby?” Dean Winchester said as he banged on the door to the house.
“Door’s open, boys!” a voice from within the house yelled.
“You sure that’s safe?” Dean asked as he entered the house.
“Only an idiot would try and get through my door,” Bobby said as he appeared in the hallway. “And you two already called ahead, said you were coming..."
"Yeah, this is the company we were talking about,” Sam said as Dean Forester stood quietly behind him in the doorway.
Bobby took a moment looking at the battered kid in front of him as Sam and Dean watched on.
Dean Forester nodded, “Hello, they said that you’d…”
“Whoa,” Dean Winchester said grabbing his friend’s arm. “He’s okay, Bobby!”
“You must've mushed up your brain, boy, to bring a damn 'shifter into my house,” Bobby growled, clutching a silver knife as the two brothers restrained him.
“Bobby, he’s not a 'shifter,” Sam reassured, then turned toward Forester. “He’s just trying to make sure you’re, well, you’re not something your not,” he reasoned, reaching out for his double.
“Like what?” Forester asked in confusion, staggering out of his reach, “He’s as crazy as the guy that went after me in the first place.”
“No, he isn’t,” Dean Winchester said as he continued to hold Bobby, while Dean Forester started limping towards the car.
“Dean!” Sam yelled, giving chase, “Wait!"
Bobby stilled for a second before elbowing the younger man low causing the elder Winchester to double over in pain. “You named it? You bring a beat up 'shifter here, that you named? That you named after you? What the hell is going on, boy?”
“It’s…Jesus,” Dean Winchester wheezed, attempting to catch his breath.
“Don’t tell me that that thing is your new plan for holding off the hellhounds when your time comes,” Bobby warned.
“He ain’t a 'shifter,” Dean gasped out. “Don’t ask me how, but he ain’t a 'shifter.”
“Prove it!” Bobby demanded, “Prove that you and your brother ain’t lost your brains, because if you've worked out that that thing can pass for one Winchester so are now thinking that you can make it wear you’re face and tell those demons that it’s you when they come for you, that's the stupidest plan I've ever heard!”
“I know that,” Dean said straightening up for a moment. “But he’s just a guy who needs a place to stay. We didn’t know where else to take him and can I get an ice pack…please.”
“He isn’t crazy,” Sam muttered, leading Forester back into the house. “He’s just…Bobby.”
“He wants to stab me,” Dean Forester stammered out; Sam took the knife out of Bobby's hand, and held it out in offering to Forester.
“He needs to see blood,” Sam said. “Just a little-- we’ll explain everything, but you just have to show him a little blood. When you do, he won’t try and stab you again.”
“I knew coming with you guys was a bad idea.” Dean Forester said unsure what was the best course to take.
“Yeah, but what real choice did you have?” Sam pointed out, still offering the knife.
“Sam!” Bobby growled as Sam waited for Dean Forester’s next move, which was to nick his finger until the blood ran free.
“Happy?” Dean Winchester asked Bobby.
Bobby’s eyes narrowed as he shoved his hand in his pockets, “No.”
“So I pass some test?” Dean Forester asked.
“Sure,” Sam said reassuringly, turning to his old friend. “Bobby, this is Dean Forester.”
“Forester?” Bobby looked the young man up and down, then turned and disappeared into his living room.
“Come on,” Dean Winchester said as he slowly started to follow.
“So what now?” Dean Forester asked as he entered the room, to find Bobby standing at his desk, setting light to something.
Sam huffed. “Come on Bobby, he isn’t….”
“Shut up, Sam!” Bobby said as he waved the smoke into the air. He turned towards Dean Forester and threw some water into the boy’s face.
“Hey!”
“You, walk over there,” Bobby said firmly, pointed across the room; Dean and Sam Winchester sighed in unison.
“Anything else you want to test?” Dean Winchester asked as Bobby watched Dean Forester limp across the room with intent.
“Now can you please explain why you did that?” Dean Forester asked when he rejoined the group. Sam pointed upwards to the ceiling.
“What the hell is that?” Dean Forester asked, startled by the drawing and symbols scrawled across the ceiling.
"You don’t know what that is?” Bobby asked.
Dean Forester shook his head. “Should I?”
“Damn you, John!” Bobby growled out, stalking around Forester and muttering in what the boy could tell to be quite a few different languages.
“Hey, hey. Don’t you go there,” Dean Winchester snapped, straightening up.
“Bro,” Sam said sympathetically.
“How old is he?” Bobby asked the Winchesters. “Twenty-five, twenty-six?”
“I’m…” Dean Forester started to say.
“He isn’t!” Dean Winchester retorted. “He isn’t, okay? Don’t you two go there!”
“Dean,” Sam said to his brother.
“No! You’ve been hinting this since Detroit, but you’re wrong, Sam. Dad wouldn’t have dumped a kid! He didn’t dump either of us, and if he'd even thought about it, I would know!”
“Dean, you can’t say that, you don’t know that,” Sam argued.
“Kid’s called Dean, boy,” Bobby said to the older Winchester as Dean Forester watched on. “Your daddy was a selfish bastard, maybe in his head he thought he was doing the right thing.”
“What, you think our dad would dump one of his sons and name him after one of his other sons?” Dean Winchester asked. “And if so, why just him? Why not all three of us, if you guys are so sure that this guy is our brother?”
“Dean, you were messed up after the fire,” Bobby said. “First time I met you, you weren’t really talking, and that was almost two years after you lost your mom."
Sam took a breath, “Dad might have known it was only me that the Yellow-Eyed Demon was after, and you, well maybe he thought sticking you in the system wasn’t the best thing. Isn’t it possible if we did have a brother who could have a normal life, Dad might have tried to give him that?”
“He wouldn’t have, Sam!” Dean Winchester nearly shouted.
“You got to admit, a baby would be in and out of the system in minutes,” Bobby reasoned. “A traumatized four, five year old? Well, hell, I don’t want to think about it. The name thing, maybe it was the best he could give you.”
“So he kept Sam because of that Yellow-Eyed bastard, and me because I was fucked up, but he saved my name?” Dean Winchester asked incredulously. “You’re talking about our Dad here. Sam, you know the only use for symbolism he had was to use it to slow down sorry sons of bitches until he worked out how to kill them.”
“But,” Bobby started to say.
“But, what? But, after two minutes of meeting this guy you decide he’s our long lost brother? You and Sammy decide that he had a twin we didn’t know about?”
“Boy, look at him!” Bobby said pointing in the direction of Dean Forester.
“Stop it! Whoever you are, one minute you try to stab me, and the next you’re telling me that I’m related to these two? I’m not! My parents are Randy and May Forester! I have sisters, not brothers,” Dean Forester huffed. “I’m not even adopted.”
“See,” Dean Winchester said.
“How would can you be sure?” Bobby asked Forester.
“I’m not, and even if I was adopted, I’m the wrong age to be his twin. I’m only twenty-four,” He snapped as he gestured in Sam’s direction.
“It wouldn’t be hard to shave a year off a baby’s birthday, if you wanted to make sure he was safe,” Bobby reasoned.
“Safe from what?” Forester asked. “I still don’t know what is really going on here! Safe from some militia that thinks that either me or Sam here is the demonic? Hell, I still don’t get half of it.”
“Militia?” Bobby raised an eyebrow before nodding. “Yeah, sure kid, militia. John tried to keep one of his kids safe from… a militia.”
“Bobby, stop it. Dad wouldn’t have,” Dean Winchester denied with insistence.
“You aren’t even going to think about it as a possibility, are you?” Bobby asked. “Even though you got this guy in my front room.”
“No,” Dean Winchester said firmly.
“Maybe he didn’t know?” Sam said. “Maybe, Dad didn’t know.”
“What, Dad didn’t know you had a twin?” his brother asked incredulously. “And they call me the stupid one.”
“You were four, Dad was cut up as it was, and maybe he thought that it wasn’t just Mom that didn’t make it out. It’s hard enough to deal with the love of your life, but her and a baby?”
“Oh, please,” Dean Winchester groaned, running a hand over his face.
“My name is Dean Forester. I was born in Chicago,” Dean Forester said. “I am not adopted, and I know who my family is.”
“Dude, I’m with you,” Dean Winchester said before turning to the other two. “So you two stop this now, I would have known!”
“How Dean?” Sam asked his brother.
“Well, I might have been four, Sammy, but I would have damn well known if they brought more than one baby home from the hospital, wouldn’t I?” Dean Winchester said. “Or now you're going to say that I blocked out part of my family? That I remember the night Mom died but I just wanted to block out the rest of it?”
“Dean,” Bobby said sympathetically.
“No! Even if I did, we got pictures from back then, picture with little Sammy in them, not little Sammy and ….someone else. Even if there was, you think that we’d just blindly bump into the guy? We deal with weird shit, but that is too much.” Dean Winchester said firmly before standing up to storm out the room.
Sam stood up to follow, but Bobby shook his head.
“Leave him, boy. Let him cool off.”
“Door’s open, boys!” a voice from within the house yelled.
“You sure that’s safe?” Dean asked as he entered the house.
“Only an idiot would try and get through my door,” Bobby said as he appeared in the hallway. “And you two already called ahead, said you were coming..."
"Yeah, this is the company we were talking about,” Sam said as Dean Forester stood quietly behind him in the doorway.
Bobby took a moment looking at the battered kid in front of him as Sam and Dean watched on.
Dean Forester nodded, “Hello, they said that you’d…”
“Whoa,” Dean Winchester said grabbing his friend’s arm. “He’s okay, Bobby!”
“You must've mushed up your brain, boy, to bring a damn 'shifter into my house,” Bobby growled, clutching a silver knife as the two brothers restrained him.
“Bobby, he’s not a 'shifter,” Sam reassured, then turned toward Forester. “He’s just trying to make sure you’re, well, you’re not something your not,” he reasoned, reaching out for his double.
“Like what?” Forester asked in confusion, staggering out of his reach, “He’s as crazy as the guy that went after me in the first place.”
“No, he isn’t,” Dean Winchester said as he continued to hold Bobby, while Dean Forester started limping towards the car.
“Dean!” Sam yelled, giving chase, “Wait!"
Bobby stilled for a second before elbowing the younger man low causing the elder Winchester to double over in pain. “You named it? You bring a beat up 'shifter here, that you named? That you named after you? What the hell is going on, boy?”
“It’s…Jesus,” Dean Winchester wheezed, attempting to catch his breath.
“Don’t tell me that that thing is your new plan for holding off the hellhounds when your time comes,” Bobby warned.
“He ain’t a 'shifter,” Dean gasped out. “Don’t ask me how, but he ain’t a 'shifter.”
“Prove it!” Bobby demanded, “Prove that you and your brother ain’t lost your brains, because if you've worked out that that thing can pass for one Winchester so are now thinking that you can make it wear you’re face and tell those demons that it’s you when they come for you, that's the stupidest plan I've ever heard!”
“I know that,” Dean said straightening up for a moment. “But he’s just a guy who needs a place to stay. We didn’t know where else to take him and can I get an ice pack…please.”
“He isn’t crazy,” Sam muttered, leading Forester back into the house. “He’s just…Bobby.”
“He wants to stab me,” Dean Forester stammered out; Sam took the knife out of Bobby's hand, and held it out in offering to Forester.
“He needs to see blood,” Sam said. “Just a little-- we’ll explain everything, but you just have to show him a little blood. When you do, he won’t try and stab you again.”
“I knew coming with you guys was a bad idea.” Dean Forester said unsure what was the best course to take.
“Yeah, but what real choice did you have?” Sam pointed out, still offering the knife.
“Sam!” Bobby growled as Sam waited for Dean Forester’s next move, which was to nick his finger until the blood ran free.
“Happy?” Dean Winchester asked Bobby.
Bobby’s eyes narrowed as he shoved his hand in his pockets, “No.”
“So I pass some test?” Dean Forester asked.
“Sure,” Sam said reassuringly, turning to his old friend. “Bobby, this is Dean Forester.”
“Forester?” Bobby looked the young man up and down, then turned and disappeared into his living room.
“Come on,” Dean Winchester said as he slowly started to follow.
“So what now?” Dean Forester asked as he entered the room, to find Bobby standing at his desk, setting light to something.
Sam huffed. “Come on Bobby, he isn’t….”
“Shut up, Sam!” Bobby said as he waved the smoke into the air. He turned towards Dean Forester and threw some water into the boy’s face.
“Hey!”
“You, walk over there,” Bobby said firmly, pointed across the room; Dean and Sam Winchester sighed in unison.
“Anything else you want to test?” Dean Winchester asked as Bobby watched Dean Forester limp across the room with intent.
“Now can you please explain why you did that?” Dean Forester asked when he rejoined the group. Sam pointed upwards to the ceiling.
“What the hell is that?” Dean Forester asked, startled by the drawing and symbols scrawled across the ceiling.
"You don’t know what that is?” Bobby asked.
Dean Forester shook his head. “Should I?”
“Damn you, John!” Bobby growled out, stalking around Forester and muttering in what the boy could tell to be quite a few different languages.
“Hey, hey. Don’t you go there,” Dean Winchester snapped, straightening up.
“Bro,” Sam said sympathetically.
“How old is he?” Bobby asked the Winchesters. “Twenty-five, twenty-six?”
“I’m…” Dean Forester started to say.
“He isn’t!” Dean Winchester retorted. “He isn’t, okay? Don’t you two go there!”
“Dean,” Sam said to his brother.
“No! You’ve been hinting this since Detroit, but you’re wrong, Sam. Dad wouldn’t have dumped a kid! He didn’t dump either of us, and if he'd even thought about it, I would know!”
“Dean, you can’t say that, you don’t know that,” Sam argued.
“Kid’s called Dean, boy,” Bobby said to the older Winchester as Dean Forester watched on. “Your daddy was a selfish bastard, maybe in his head he thought he was doing the right thing.”
“What, you think our dad would dump one of his sons and name him after one of his other sons?” Dean Winchester asked. “And if so, why just him? Why not all three of us, if you guys are so sure that this guy is our brother?”
“Dean, you were messed up after the fire,” Bobby said. “First time I met you, you weren’t really talking, and that was almost two years after you lost your mom."
Sam took a breath, “Dad might have known it was only me that the Yellow-Eyed Demon was after, and you, well maybe he thought sticking you in the system wasn’t the best thing. Isn’t it possible if we did have a brother who could have a normal life, Dad might have tried to give him that?”
“He wouldn’t have, Sam!” Dean Winchester nearly shouted.
“You got to admit, a baby would be in and out of the system in minutes,” Bobby reasoned. “A traumatized four, five year old? Well, hell, I don’t want to think about it. The name thing, maybe it was the best he could give you.”
“So he kept Sam because of that Yellow-Eyed bastard, and me because I was fucked up, but he saved my name?” Dean Winchester asked incredulously. “You’re talking about our Dad here. Sam, you know the only use for symbolism he had was to use it to slow down sorry sons of bitches until he worked out how to kill them.”
“But,” Bobby started to say.
“But, what? But, after two minutes of meeting this guy you decide he’s our long lost brother? You and Sammy decide that he had a twin we didn’t know about?”
“Boy, look at him!” Bobby said pointing in the direction of Dean Forester.
“Stop it! Whoever you are, one minute you try to stab me, and the next you’re telling me that I’m related to these two? I’m not! My parents are Randy and May Forester! I have sisters, not brothers,” Dean Forester huffed. “I’m not even adopted.”
“See,” Dean Winchester said.
“How would can you be sure?” Bobby asked Forester.
“I’m not, and even if I was adopted, I’m the wrong age to be his twin. I’m only twenty-four,” He snapped as he gestured in Sam’s direction.
“It wouldn’t be hard to shave a year off a baby’s birthday, if you wanted to make sure he was safe,” Bobby reasoned.
“Safe from what?” Forester asked. “I still don’t know what is really going on here! Safe from some militia that thinks that either me or Sam here is the demonic? Hell, I still don’t get half of it.”
“Militia?” Bobby raised an eyebrow before nodding. “Yeah, sure kid, militia. John tried to keep one of his kids safe from… a militia.”
“Bobby, stop it. Dad wouldn’t have,” Dean Winchester denied with insistence.
“You aren’t even going to think about it as a possibility, are you?” Bobby asked. “Even though you got this guy in my front room.”
“No,” Dean Winchester said firmly.
“Maybe he didn’t know?” Sam said. “Maybe, Dad didn’t know.”
“What, Dad didn’t know you had a twin?” his brother asked incredulously. “And they call me the stupid one.”
“You were four, Dad was cut up as it was, and maybe he thought that it wasn’t just Mom that didn’t make it out. It’s hard enough to deal with the love of your life, but her and a baby?”
“Oh, please,” Dean Winchester groaned, running a hand over his face.
“My name is Dean Forester. I was born in Chicago,” Dean Forester said. “I am not adopted, and I know who my family is.”
“Dude, I’m with you,” Dean Winchester said before turning to the other two. “So you two stop this now, I would have known!”
“How Dean?” Sam asked his brother.
“Well, I might have been four, Sammy, but I would have damn well known if they brought more than one baby home from the hospital, wouldn’t I?” Dean Winchester said. “Or now you're going to say that I blocked out part of my family? That I remember the night Mom died but I just wanted to block out the rest of it?”
“Dean,” Bobby said sympathetically.
“No! Even if I did, we got pictures from back then, picture with little Sammy in them, not little Sammy and ….someone else. Even if there was, you think that we’d just blindly bump into the guy? We deal with weird shit, but that is too much.” Dean Winchester said firmly before standing up to storm out the room.
Sam stood up to follow, but Bobby shook his head.
“Leave him, boy. Let him cool off.”