FIC: A Priori
Oh my God. It's DONE.
There are no more words left, because I HAVE USED THEM ALL IN THIS FIC.
Um, it's really long. My spin on Amnesia!fic. Enjoy!
*is dead*
Title: A Priori
Author: memphis86
Pairings/Characters: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 17,672 overall, 5,884 this part
Disclaimer: Not mine! I promise to put them back when I'm done.
Summary: He wakes up half-blind, not able to remember anything. Then Dean Winchester shows up to complicate things.
Author's Notes: Divided into 4 posts linked to one another within chapters. Meant to be read as a whole. More notes at the end.
Part 1|| Part 2|| Part 3|| Epilogue & Notes
A Priori
He woke up in a bed that wasn't his own.
There's really nothing else to say. Not much else happened when he woke up that first time. The room was small and the bed was narrow. It was too short and his feet hung over the edge.
So it wasn't his.
He curled his longs legs up to his chest and went back to sleep.
***
Hours pass and he moves in and out of consciousness, until he cracks open an eye and sees a stranger sitting in a chair beside his bed.
The old man is wearing simple black robes and reading a torn copy of some book. He squints and tries to make out the title but his eyes are-
One of his eyes is bandaged shut, he hadn't noticed until now. He puts shaking fingers to his face and feels around the edge of the bandages and presses lightly against the skin.
It's the first sensation of pain that sets all the others off. Like waking up a switchboard, all the lights and nerves shooting in all directions. It's in spikes and pulses of pain, and not just his eye, but his arm and his legs and his chest and he screams hoarsely.
The old man has dropped his book and holds him by the shoulders. He cries out, "David! David!" but whoever David is, he doesn't come.
When the adrenaline tapers off he falls back down on the mattress, panting. Everything still hurts and his brain is beating against his skull.
The room goes black.
***
Awake again, the man is kneeling against the bed; whispered prayers are warm puffs of air in his ear. He is accompanied by a younger man who places a glass of water to his lips. He drinks what he can bear to swallow.
When he could sit up, the old man rose from his side.
"David?"
He doesn't say anything but looks at the younger monk.
Monks, they're both dressed as monks. He realizes he's in a monastery. He sees the stained-glass pictures on the windows, the cross, the wood, the telltale ascetic features of his room. It screams of simplicity and piety, even the air smells of it. He feels the weight of the religious overtones that hang in the room, and he feels unworthy of them, like a sudden pang of guilt. The pictures of Saints stare at him. He doesn't deserve this.
"David Johnson. That's you." The younger man says to him.
He presses his lips together into a thin line, licks them.
"David?" The old man asks him again.
"Yes?" He replies in a weak voice.
The old man smiles.
***
There is a doctor who explains things the next day.
He had been in an accident, a horrible one he was lucky to have walked away from. There was brain damage. Amnesia, significant long-term memory loss, short-term memory functions were also affected. His left eye was probably blinded, they would know for sure when the bandages could come off.
Most of the other injuries, the sprained ankle, the cuts and bruises, would heal sooner. But the memory thing; it would require patience and practice to fix. He may not ever get back all of his memories but he could teach himself to regain as much of his brain functions as possible.
He had been identified by an ID card in his wallet, an out-of-state driver's license. The photo is kind of scratched up and he can't really see any details of his face, but the monks swear it's his. His name is David Johnson, though calls and letters to his home address went nowhere.
It was obviously a fake ID, David thought, turning it over in his hand. The monks and the doctor seemed not as inclined to care.
The monastery, St. Basil's, is located just outside of Katonah, Ohio. The town is small and well-to-do, the countryside is gorgeous, though prone to flooding when it rains. There are muddy patches and banks marring the green of the land, he sees them when they drive back.
The old monk, Father Anthony, tells him he can stay there as long as he wants to. He says, specifically, that St. Basil's is a refuge for people like him.
There are other people like him?
***
Father Anthony was right; all the people who walked the halls of St. Basil's had an equally strange or horrifying sob story. They were all victims of tragedy, staying there to try and piece their lives back together. David spends hours listening to their stories, and then transcribing them into the notebooks the monks gave him. It's an exercise to help re-train his short-term memory. He reads them back the next day to Father Anthony and Father Priam.
After retelling the particularly heartbreaking story of a woman whose husband had his heart torn out and eaten by a wild animal, Father Priam smiles and tells David he should be a writer. David mumbles a thank you and locks himself in his room. He burns the notebooks in the hearth the next morning.
***
When the bandages come off his left eye, things don't look any better. The doctor frowns as he moves his flashlight back and forth.
"I'm afraid it's not good news."
The doctor leaves to prep some machines so they could test it, but David already knows he's blind in that eye. He'd spent two weeks with it bandaged shut, and managed just fine. He steps over to the mirror and finally gets a good look at himself.
He hadn't wanted to look too closely before, still having trouble recognizing the stranger looking back. But there he was; tall and broad, long limbs and huge hands, shaggy brown hair and one hazel eye, the other startlingly different. Bright and red around the skin, the iris so light gray that it's practically white, the pupil nothing more then a pinhole.
"I look like one of those dogs." He says aloud to no one.
***
David keeps to himself, mostly. He runs chores for the monks, carries heavy things, caskets of wine, and helps clean the monastery.
Father Priam was trying to encourage him to take writing classes at the local community college but he didn't want to speak with people anymore. Ever since the bandages came off, he'd felt exposed. He didn't like the staring, didn't like explaining how he got his head knocked up so bad that he went half-blind and has trouble remembering things.
He can't recall his parent's names and only assumes he's 29 because it's what is written on his fake driver's license. Which he knows is fake. So he doesn't even know what to believe about himself. He accepts the lies because it's easier then looking for truth. There's no leads for him to follow, Father Anthony and Father Priam didn't know him from Cain before.
There are moments when he gets close, when he stands in front of the mirror and says his name over and over. "David Johnson. David Johnson. Day-vid. Johns-son." And he starts feeling familiar and smiles. "D-D-D-ee." And he catches himself and stops.
David doesn't have depth perception and he never dreams. Ever.
***
There's not much else for him to do in his downtime but read. David devours every book in the library and reads the bible cover-to-cover. He particularly likes the Book of Job and asks Father Anthony if that means anything.
Father Anthony has a twinkle in his eye and asks him if he thinks it means something. David decides he hates people that answer questions with questions. He likes yes or no answers.
It's raining on a Tuesday, pouring down in buckets and he and Father Priam are quietly discussing the parable of the Prodigal Son when the doors slam open and three drenched figures run in.
Father Priam stands up with David as they watch them dry off. It's a man in a leather jacket, a woman in a wet flowered dress and a small cardigan; beside her a young girl in overalls hugs her leg. The woman carries a shoulder bag and a child's backpack. The man has nothing.
Father Anthony comes out of his office and claps his hands together. He approaches the man who shakes his hand and is drawn into a simple hug. Father Priam stops David from approaching them. David hadn't realized he was moving away from the pew.
He hears bits and pieces of the conversation, recognizes the emotions and tones of voices; the room carries echoes well enough. Father Anthony greets the man like an old friend, shakes the woman's hand and pats her daughter's head. Tells them they are welcome to stay as long as they need to. The man asks something of Father Anthony and he nods and walks away with him.
Father Priam walks towards the women and lets David trail along this time. He introduces himself and asks their names.
The woman nods and answers, "Sheila Smith, and this is my daughter Elena."
They chat for a while, avoiding mentioning the tragedy that must have brought them here. Father Priam smiles and turns to David and whispers. "The names?"
David hates this. It's in his head but he can't catch it on his tongue exactly and he blurts out "Cee, Cee-something? Um, Smith and-" David scrunches his face tight and the little girl laughs.
"Elena!" She coos and David wants to die. Father Priam leads them away to their quarters and explains David's condition. Through the echoes he can hear Elena asking about his eye.
Father Anthony walks back into the hallway, his conversation trailing off "…right here if you wanted to see him."
The man nods and smiles, he's soaking wet with short light hair and a scar along his forehead. He walks with a limp and has a bottle of wine underneath his arm. He holds out a hand to David.
"Dean Winchester."
David nods and shakes his hand. "I'm David."
Dean gives him an odd little smile. "Hi, David."
***
David comes to understand Dean Winchester is not one of the victims St. Basil's helps; rather he brings people that need help to them. Dean doesn't speak much about who he is and where he comes from other then the basic facts. He gives David yes or no answers and David likes him more and more. Not just because of the fact that he doesn't dance around things, or say cryptic shit like the monks; but because Dean is letting him drink his wine. Father Anthony and Father Priam never drink and David always feels too awkward to ask.
Dean is funny, he smiles and cracks jokes and makes fun of the gnarly scar running across his head, and calls himself "gimpy" because of his leg. David decides he likes him a whole lot.
The only faux pas he commits is when he tries to call David, "Davey". David politely corrects him and says that he prefers his full name, and Dean chuckles and says okay.
Dean then starts to question David, about what he does at St. Basil's. What he plans to do further down the road. How he deals with what happened to him. David feels a rapport with Dean that he can't explain; so he doesn't feel weird about answering that he really doesn't know what he wants to do. He tells him things are only a little easier for him every day, but it's pretty fucking horrible to begin with. David opens up about his fears and his anxieties and his frustrations with his memory and Dean just listens and pours out the rest of his wine, and licks the neck of bottle where some had trickled down. David's stomach flips a little.
"Hey David, just one more question, are you… Are you happy? I mean, not just happy here, but are you happy? In general?"
David screws his face up and he can't answer. Dean mumbles "Nevermind," and finishes off his drink.
Elena and her mother walk by and she points and says with all the conviction of a mean little schoolgirl "Mommy, he has the evil eye too!" Her mother shushes her and scoots her along faster, offering David a sympathetic smile.
David wants to run to his room but Dean just scoffs and says "What a bitch!"
David fixes him with a strange look. "Dean, she's like seven."
"Still not an excuse to be a bitch. Dude, that eye is awesome. You look like one of those dogs. Or David Bowie. Hey! That could be your new nickname, David Bowie."
David smiles.
"Ask me again."
"What?"
"Ask me again if I'm happy."
"Are you happy?"
"Right now, yeah. Right now I am."
Dean nods, "That's good to know."
***
David doesn't think too much of Dean's probing questions for him, he hasn't had someone he could even begin to think of as a friend in so long, he's just glad for the chance to spend time with him. He walks Dean to his car and waves as the black Chevy Impala speeds off.
When he goes back inside, Father Priam asks, "What was his name?"
"Dean Winchester. From Lawrence, Kansas. He took 3 bottles of wine but drank one here. He drives a black Chevy Impala." He's awesome, David doesn't add.
Father Anthony smiles and offers David some fresh grapes and Father Priam gives him a satisfied little nod.
***
David thinks about what it means to be happy. He reads the bible more and continues to devour the library in search of what could make him happy. He thinks about what it means to lead a good life. What ethics are, and the limits of reason. He feels like a scholar but yearns for the company of others to discuss. Father Anthony never gives straight answers, and Father Priam treats him like a child without realizing. He turns back to writing and tries to find his happiness.
He decides that he likes being social and he starts talking to people again. He leaves the monastery to run errands and sits in coffee shops writing and people-watching. He chats up customers and the waitstaff knows how he takes his coffee. They also become patient with him when he forgets that he's already ordered his food, they've figured out that he doesn't actually want 3 cups of coffee and 2 tuna melts.
Children still point at his eye but he laughs and thinks about David Bowie.
David has the closet thing to a dream he's had in months. It's Dean in front of his Impala, turning to him and smiling. David wants to push him against the car but he can't move.
Two weeks later, Dean shows up.
***
It's a clear day this time, sunny and warm. David is in the cloisters, reading Emerson. He hears footsteps against the stone floor and looks up to see Dean and Father Anthony. Dean is without his leather jacket this time, covered in what he hopes is road dust but looks a bit nastier. He's got a small bag slung over his shoulder and he walks by quickly towards the guest quarters. He flips David a small wave and Father Anthony turns to speak with him.
"Dean's back." He says and Father Anthony nods.
"He's brought some people with him again, would you like to-"
"Is he staying with us?"
"For tonight, yes--I had to talk him out of sleeping in his car. Dean wants to make it up to Anchorage by Friday. I told him to at least stay for a while and get some rest, fill up the car and take some supplies."
"Is that where he lives?"
"Not really, he travels around."
David laughs, "He sleeps in his car?"
"When he sleeps at all."
"What does he do, exactly?"
"Dean does good things for people. He helps them when they need it."
"Like you and Father Priam?"
Father Anthony laughs, "He has a more hands-on approach then we do, but yes."
"So, he's like some kind of hero?"
"To some people..." Father Anthony stands up and motions for him to follow. "I promised him a case of wine this time, would you help me carry it upstairs?"
***
David brings the wine out when he knows Dean's there. He hasn't showered yet and is covered in filth, the hood of his car is popped and he's rummaging around, looking for something with a flashlight. David clears his throat and Dean turns and hits him with a smile, and dejá vu washes all over David.
"Hey, Dean."
"Hey, David." Dean leans back against the car and nods towards the case, "You can put that down wherever, I need to borrow your hands."
David swallows and puts the wine down near him and walks over to Dean, who hands him is flashlight and he shines it over the hood as Dean dives back in.
"Father Anthony said you were spending the night."
"Yeah maybe, quick bite and a shower first. I gotta get all the way up to Alaska by Friday."
"What're you doing there?"
"Ahhh, just some lousy job, can you move to the left? Thanks."
"It's gonna be cold there." Dean turns and gives him a weird little look before David realizes how stupid and obvious that comment was.
"Yeah, it's pretty cold in Alaska."
"Velvet Underground..." David mumbles and Dean either doesn't hear him or ignores him, and he gets back to work. David thinks he's such a freak, that he can remember a random line from a song but he can't remember when he heard it. He feels like a teenager again, or what he assumes he was like as a teenager. Awkward and fidgety, not knowing how exactly to say what he wants to, everything coming out in wrong little spouts of words.
Dean turns some more screws and fiddles around a bit before declaring, "Done!" and slamming the hood down. He's got an accomplished look and snatches the flashlight back. "I'm going to go take a much-needed shower. Tell Father Tony I like my steak rare."
David laughs and grabs the case again and asks, "Should I put this away?"
"Yeah in the back," Dean opens the backseat door and frowns at the lack of room, starts moving things around and David just pops the trunk like it's nothing. There's a false bottom and he pulls it up just as Dean yells, "Don't!"
It's incredible the sheer amount of stuff he's got stashed in there. Machetes, boxes of bullets, smaller knives, some clean and some stained with god knows what. There are guns of every kind and shape and size. It's like a museum of weaponry. Dean's behind him stammering to explain it all. David turns around and stares in his panicked eyes.
"Wow... You really are some kinda hero, right?"
Dean shuffles his feet and looks down muttering and nodding.
***
Dinner is quiet and cordial; when Father Anthony and Father Priam retire, Dean gets up and starts heading out. David follows him all the way to his car, practically begging him to reconsider.
"You're not staying? Really?"
"If I start now I can clear a couple hundred miles before I need to stop."
"If you stay, you could drive most of the way tomorrow."
"Nah, I better go. Wouldn't want to wear out my welcome."
"I'm sure Father Anthony would love for you to stay."
"David, I have to go, okay?"
"Okay." And David feels like a brat, but he just wants to stomp his feet and whine at Dean and make him stay .
"I'll come by again when I need to. Look, you're okay, right? You're doing better? You're happy here?"
"Yeah..." David looks around, up at the sky and tries to concentrate on the web of stars instead of meeting Dean's eyes. Not having depth perception is a funny thing, he knows they're far away but they don't always look so hard to get. Like he could reach his hand up and pull down a couple.
"Then that's all that matters," David says something under his breath, "What was that?"
"Said, I'd be happier if you stuck around." David feels his face burn a little and quickly adds, "I mean, to talk and, you're funny. To have, around. Here."
Dean claps David on the shoulder and looks him right dead in the eye. "I promise, I'll come by and stay a whole day. Around. Here."
Dean drives into the night and David thinks about Alaska. Dean was going to Alaska.
***
David asks Father Anthony about the people Dean's helped. How he helped them, why he did it. Father Anthony is still cagey about giving him exact answers and Father Priam gives him no answers at all. In fact, Father Priam balks when David refers to Dean as "some kind of hero". David quickly realizes that Father Priam does not care for Dean Winchester one bit. It just makes him like Dean even more.
He tries questioning the old man Dean brought with him as delicately as he can. His eyes are tired and the old man says to David that he wouldn't believe him if he told him the truth. David presses on and finally the old man looks at him and asks:
"Do you believe in ghosts?"
He doesn't wait for an answer before launching into a story about how he met a woman when he was young and had an affair with her. She was married and the husband went made with rage; killed her and then shot himself.
The ghost of the jilted man had been calling to him for decades, thinking if it could seek vengeance, it would be at peace. Dean had sent the ghost away, saved him and his grandchildren who had been visiting him. The children were with a family friend; he was at St. Basil's to make peace with what he did. How his actions and in-actions had lead to the death of his beloved, and the destruction of an innocent soul.
After all that, David has to lie down for a few hours. He doesn't think about Dean for weeks.
But the dreams start to signify Dean's arrival, and this time he pictures Dean handing him a stack of books.
***
It's so bright and hot outside David drives into town and buys sunglasses and iced coffee. He's got the radio on loud, they're playing Talking Heads and he sings along horribly off-key.
When he pulls into the driveway, Dean is there, leaning against the hood of the Impala. He's got a square green bag at his feet and a knowing smirk. David resists the urge to jump out of the car and run to him, by the time he walks over to Dean he's got this big stupid smile on his face.
"Y'know I was thinking I could just make my escape and you'd never know the difference. But then I thought I could probably scam another free meal outta Father Tony if I stuck around and entertained his errand boy."
It's only the third time he's ever seen Dean, but David feels okay to tease him back. "Tell the truth Dean, your leg gave out and now you're stuck there waiting for me to come help you."
"Hey! Don't tease the gimp. If you live in a monastery you can't tease gimps, it's a rule."
David laughs and Dean stands up, reaching into his bag. "Father Tony told me you were running out of things to read. I've been trying to get rid of these for a while." He hands him a few books.
"Wow, thanks." David turns them over, they're worn and he flips through a few pages. "Law books?"
"Yeah, they've been lying around for too long. Thought you could give 'em a good home."
David is fully aware that hugging them to his chest like a 12-year old girl isn't scoring any cool points with Dean.
***
He convinces Dean it's too nice of a day to be inside, so they take a walk around the grounds. David moves slowly and Dean accuses him of coddling him in a mocking tone. They walk down to the small garden Father Priam keeps, and it's there that David finally gets up his nerve.
"Dean,"
"Yeah?" Dean doesn't look up right away.
"You save people, right?"
"I try." He turns his head and looks at David.
"I've been trying to remember-"
"Don't,"
"You saved me, right? You brought me here, didn't you?"
"Uhh,"
"That's why you always talk to me, you're always checking up on me. Making sure I'm okay. Asking me if I'm happy here."
"David..."
"You're like, my hero."
For once, Dean is speechless. David moves forward and without really thinking he hugs him. Dean hugs back and pats him twice. "Okay, that's enough."
"I'd probably be dead-"
"David! Stop it, okay? Just stop it. Let it go."
David waits a few moments and apologizes. Dean brushes him off and says, "This was a bad idea, I'm gonna get out of here..."
He takes off an hour later and David goes up to his room and locks himself in there the rest of the day. He throws the books in a corner.
***
It's been a week and his shock at what Dean did has turned into anger and frustration at what happened. Why did Dean have to leave? Why couldn't he have just stayed like he said he would?
David shakes it off; his mind tends to wander when he thinks about Dean. He'll be listening to Father Priam speak and then Dean will creep into his head, and his attention is elsewhere. He forgets about being hungry or thirsty or whatever it is he has to do at any given moment.
When he finally decides his curiosity has the best of him, he starts reading the books Dean gave him. His mind needs intellectual stimulation, craves it, keeps him awake at night.
There's a name though on all the books, that jumps out at him. Property of Sam Winchester.
Winchester rattles around his brain setting off tiny sparks until David finally made the necessary logic leap. Dean's last name was also Winchester. Dean and Sam Winchester. How were they connected?
Father Anthony and Father Priam knew. Sam was Dean's younger brother.
"Died two or three years ago, before you knew him. He took it pretty hard." Father Priam nodded. "Lost his father in '07 I think, and his mother when he was a child. Sam was all he had left."
"Did either of you know Sam?"
"Only what Dean would tell us. He never came by, no."
David thanked him for the information and as he was about to leave, Father Anthony added, "Dean must really think a lot of you, to give you something that belonged to Sam."
"I guess so-"
"I think he's quite fond of you." Father Anthony had a twinkle in his eye that monks should not have. David flushed and Father Priam turned an interesting shade of pink but otherwise remained silent.
***
David leaves the optometrist with a prescription for eyeglasses. He got pulled over for speeding and when the cop found out he was half-blind, he gave him a ticket and an order to see an eye doctor within 90 days.
David is fuming when he gets back, (the bus takes forever,) he has to get money to buy glasses and Father Priam will probably want to drive him and make him pick out the most sensible pair. As if he didn't already look enough like a freak. He's only going to wear them for driving, but still!
There was no warning. Dean is just there in Father Anthony's office, leaning back in his chair, his leg propped up on the desk. He's gesturing his arms wildly and saying "But I don't get why I gotta call you Father Tony and Priam gets to call you Brother? I wanna call you Brother Tony."
Father Anthony laughs, "We refer to one another as 'Brother' but are known to others as Father."
"So it's really that bad if I call you Brother?"
"Yes, it's disrespectful." David can't help interjecting, and he feels like he's Father Priam, waggling his finger back and forth at Dean.
Dean shrugs, "Well, forgive me Father?"
"Of course, Dean." Father Anthony looks at David. "How did it go?"
David worries his lip, "I need glasses." He looks at Dean, "For driving."
Dean doesn't laugh or make fun, just nods. Father Anthony's already reaching into his desk, pulling out a strongbox. "I swear I'll pay you back-"
Father Anthony tut-tuts his protests and hands him the money. He technically works for the monastery for free room and board. He gets a stipend sometimes, but it's not very much.
"Is Father Priam around? I need a ride back into town." David asks.
Father Anthony shakes his head, "I'm afraid he's out this afternoon, took the car down to St. Luvic's for a conference."
"Oh, I guess I'll go tomorrow."
"Nonsense, Dean wouldn't mind giving you a ride, would he?"
"'Course not," Dean stands. "C'mon David, let's get you a monocle or something cool."
David sighs inwardly and nods. The only reason that David agrees to go with Dean is because the sooner he gets his glasses, the sooner he can drive again and have some semblance of freedom. And though he'd never admit it, he really does want to ride in the Impala. It's just such a pretty car, all sleek and black and powerful.
So he folds his arms and follows Dean outside. Dean's still going on about how much cooler a monocle would look then a pair of glasses, "I mean, it's just the one eye, right? Why have the extra lens? It's wasteful David. You have to get a monocle, for the sake of the environment."
"I am not wearing a monocle, Dean." David says and opens the passenger door. The seat is all the way back.
Dean scoffs and slides into his side easily, looks up at David and makes a circle with his index finger and thumb in front of his face. "Yeah, I'm not digging it so much anymore. Let's get you some x-ray specs."
David shakes his head and sits down, pulls the door shut and realizes that his knees haven't hit the dash. In fact, he's quite comfortable. "You always keep the seat this far back?"
Dean pulls out onto the road, "Yeah, I run a little side business driving around basketball players and giants."
David snorts.
"Ah! See, I knew that'd get you."
"What are you talking about?"
"Nothing." Dean flips on the music and David loses himself in the grinding guitars and the pounding drums. It's not the art school 70's punk rock he's been listening to, but it's a distraction.
"Hey, if you smile I'll let you pick the music."
David gives Dean a cross look. He knows he's supposed to be upset at Dean, but he really can't remember why. Details still escape him, sometimes he just has to trust his feelings.
"And if you cheer the hell up and actually try to have some fun with this, I might-might…" Dean stops at the traffic light and looks directly at David, "Let you drive on the way back, a little."
David feels stubborn and torn. Normally he would leap at the chance to drive Dean's Impala, he's fully aware of how gorgeous the car is. But he's supposed to feel lousy today. He needs glasses and has to take a handout from Father Anthony to get them, and he should feel horribly guilty and angry at himself for being half-blind and-
And Dean's smile is infectious. He spends most of the ride into town cracking jokes at David, by the time they get to the optician, he's grinning.
***
David wiggles the glasses on his nose. They're simple wireless frames, and so lightweight that he keeps worrying that they're not on. They make everything magnified and he gets a little dizzy when he looks over the edge of the lens and back again.
Dean is talking to him while he sits in the driver's seat. Making sure David knows the proper protocol for driving his car, and that he will hunt him down and skin him alive if anything happens to his baby. David nods and places his hands on the wheel.
"Okay then," Dean saunters over to the passenger side and closes the door. "Go for it."
David turns the key and the car fires to life. The engine purrs so nice and the lift is amazing. They're pealing down the highway in no time, and David's hand automatically goes to the radio knob, finds his favorite college-rock station. Dean whines a little as the sounds of Jesus and Mary Chain fill the car, but David ignores him.
Dean sits back and seems to let his tension go, David can see him looking over at him. A lot. It's almost distracting the way Dean looks at him and David bites his lip.
Dean leans his head back and his eyes just slip shut. There's no yawn, no signs of his fatigue from before, he just conks out. David wonders when the last time he slept was.
David gets back at to monastery but he lets Dean sleep. He doesn't want to wake him up just yet. He crosses his arms and pillows his head on the steering wheel. Watches the rise and falls of Dean's chest, listens to the deep, heavy breathing.
It's close to a half-hour before Dean opens his eyes.
"Where did I come from?" David blurts out.
"Huh?" Dean is groggy and shakes his head.
"Where did you find me?"
Dean blinks and rolls his head back against the seat, "California." Dean finally says. "Found you in California."
California's a big place, Dean can't manage to give him any specifics when he tries to ask. California could be his home. He could go there and try to find somewhere familiar. Dean starts to nod off again.
"Dean? You need me to help you upstairs?"
Dean opens the side door and gets out. "Nah Sammy, I got it." He sways on his feet.
David gets out and loops his arms around Dean. He must still be half-asleep, thinking he was his brother.
"Anything else you wanna tell me while you're feeling open, Dean?" David laughs.
"Mm sorry."
"Sorry for what?"
"I shouldnt've let you go without more've a fight."
David nods as he walks Dean to the guest rooms. "You're talking to Sammy, right?"
"I'm so sorry. I couldn't keep my promise." David walks Dean up the stairs.
"I'm sure Sammy knows-" David says opening the door.
"Sammy's gone. But that's okay."
"Yeah?" David lets him down on the nicest bed he could find, Dean lies on his back, flat.
"It's okay, you're here now."
David never, ever tells Dean what he said to him that day, because David forgets it about an hour later. He knows Dean was talking to him, about something, and then fell asleep. The little details of the conversation vanish. Something about his brother. Oh, well.
***
Next part
There are no more words left, because I HAVE USED THEM ALL IN THIS FIC.
Um, it's really long. My spin on Amnesia!fic. Enjoy!
*is dead*
Title: A Priori
Author: memphis86
Pairings/Characters: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 17,672 overall, 5,884 this part
Disclaimer: Not mine! I promise to put them back when I'm done.
Summary: He wakes up half-blind, not able to remember anything. Then Dean Winchester shows up to complicate things.
Author's Notes: Divided into 4 posts linked to one another within chapters. Meant to be read as a whole. More notes at the end.
Part 1|| Part 2|| Part 3|| Epilogue & Notes
A Priori
He woke up in a bed that wasn't his own.
There's really nothing else to say. Not much else happened when he woke up that first time. The room was small and the bed was narrow. It was too short and his feet hung over the edge.
So it wasn't his.
He curled his longs legs up to his chest and went back to sleep.
***
Hours pass and he moves in and out of consciousness, until he cracks open an eye and sees a stranger sitting in a chair beside his bed.
The old man is wearing simple black robes and reading a torn copy of some book. He squints and tries to make out the title but his eyes are-
One of his eyes is bandaged shut, he hadn't noticed until now. He puts shaking fingers to his face and feels around the edge of the bandages and presses lightly against the skin.
It's the first sensation of pain that sets all the others off. Like waking up a switchboard, all the lights and nerves shooting in all directions. It's in spikes and pulses of pain, and not just his eye, but his arm and his legs and his chest and he screams hoarsely.
The old man has dropped his book and holds him by the shoulders. He cries out, "David! David!" but whoever David is, he doesn't come.
When the adrenaline tapers off he falls back down on the mattress, panting. Everything still hurts and his brain is beating against his skull.
The room goes black.
***
Awake again, the man is kneeling against the bed; whispered prayers are warm puffs of air in his ear. He is accompanied by a younger man who places a glass of water to his lips. He drinks what he can bear to swallow.
When he could sit up, the old man rose from his side.
"David?"
He doesn't say anything but looks at the younger monk.
Monks, they're both dressed as monks. He realizes he's in a monastery. He sees the stained-glass pictures on the windows, the cross, the wood, the telltale ascetic features of his room. It screams of simplicity and piety, even the air smells of it. He feels the weight of the religious overtones that hang in the room, and he feels unworthy of them, like a sudden pang of guilt. The pictures of Saints stare at him. He doesn't deserve this.
"David Johnson. That's you." The younger man says to him.
He presses his lips together into a thin line, licks them.
"David?" The old man asks him again.
"Yes?" He replies in a weak voice.
The old man smiles.
***
There is a doctor who explains things the next day.
He had been in an accident, a horrible one he was lucky to have walked away from. There was brain damage. Amnesia, significant long-term memory loss, short-term memory functions were also affected. His left eye was probably blinded, they would know for sure when the bandages could come off.
Most of the other injuries, the sprained ankle, the cuts and bruises, would heal sooner. But the memory thing; it would require patience and practice to fix. He may not ever get back all of his memories but he could teach himself to regain as much of his brain functions as possible.
He had been identified by an ID card in his wallet, an out-of-state driver's license. The photo is kind of scratched up and he can't really see any details of his face, but the monks swear it's his. His name is David Johnson, though calls and letters to his home address went nowhere.
It was obviously a fake ID, David thought, turning it over in his hand. The monks and the doctor seemed not as inclined to care.
The monastery, St. Basil's, is located just outside of Katonah, Ohio. The town is small and well-to-do, the countryside is gorgeous, though prone to flooding when it rains. There are muddy patches and banks marring the green of the land, he sees them when they drive back.
The old monk, Father Anthony, tells him he can stay there as long as he wants to. He says, specifically, that St. Basil's is a refuge for people like him.
There are other people like him?
***
Father Anthony was right; all the people who walked the halls of St. Basil's had an equally strange or horrifying sob story. They were all victims of tragedy, staying there to try and piece their lives back together. David spends hours listening to their stories, and then transcribing them into the notebooks the monks gave him. It's an exercise to help re-train his short-term memory. He reads them back the next day to Father Anthony and Father Priam.
After retelling the particularly heartbreaking story of a woman whose husband had his heart torn out and eaten by a wild animal, Father Priam smiles and tells David he should be a writer. David mumbles a thank you and locks himself in his room. He burns the notebooks in the hearth the next morning.
***
When the bandages come off his left eye, things don't look any better. The doctor frowns as he moves his flashlight back and forth.
"I'm afraid it's not good news."
The doctor leaves to prep some machines so they could test it, but David already knows he's blind in that eye. He'd spent two weeks with it bandaged shut, and managed just fine. He steps over to the mirror and finally gets a good look at himself.
He hadn't wanted to look too closely before, still having trouble recognizing the stranger looking back. But there he was; tall and broad, long limbs and huge hands, shaggy brown hair and one hazel eye, the other startlingly different. Bright and red around the skin, the iris so light gray that it's practically white, the pupil nothing more then a pinhole.
"I look like one of those dogs." He says aloud to no one.
***
David keeps to himself, mostly. He runs chores for the monks, carries heavy things, caskets of wine, and helps clean the monastery.
Father Priam was trying to encourage him to take writing classes at the local community college but he didn't want to speak with people anymore. Ever since the bandages came off, he'd felt exposed. He didn't like the staring, didn't like explaining how he got his head knocked up so bad that he went half-blind and has trouble remembering things.
He can't recall his parent's names and only assumes he's 29 because it's what is written on his fake driver's license. Which he knows is fake. So he doesn't even know what to believe about himself. He accepts the lies because it's easier then looking for truth. There's no leads for him to follow, Father Anthony and Father Priam didn't know him from Cain before.
There are moments when he gets close, when he stands in front of the mirror and says his name over and over. "David Johnson. David Johnson. Day-vid. Johns-son." And he starts feeling familiar and smiles. "D-D-D-ee." And he catches himself and stops.
David doesn't have depth perception and he never dreams. Ever.
***
There's not much else for him to do in his downtime but read. David devours every book in the library and reads the bible cover-to-cover. He particularly likes the Book of Job and asks Father Anthony if that means anything.
Father Anthony has a twinkle in his eye and asks him if he thinks it means something. David decides he hates people that answer questions with questions. He likes yes or no answers.
It's raining on a Tuesday, pouring down in buckets and he and Father Priam are quietly discussing the parable of the Prodigal Son when the doors slam open and three drenched figures run in.
Father Priam stands up with David as they watch them dry off. It's a man in a leather jacket, a woman in a wet flowered dress and a small cardigan; beside her a young girl in overalls hugs her leg. The woman carries a shoulder bag and a child's backpack. The man has nothing.
Father Anthony comes out of his office and claps his hands together. He approaches the man who shakes his hand and is drawn into a simple hug. Father Priam stops David from approaching them. David hadn't realized he was moving away from the pew.
He hears bits and pieces of the conversation, recognizes the emotions and tones of voices; the room carries echoes well enough. Father Anthony greets the man like an old friend, shakes the woman's hand and pats her daughter's head. Tells them they are welcome to stay as long as they need to. The man asks something of Father Anthony and he nods and walks away with him.
Father Priam walks towards the women and lets David trail along this time. He introduces himself and asks their names.
The woman nods and answers, "Sheila Smith, and this is my daughter Elena."
They chat for a while, avoiding mentioning the tragedy that must have brought them here. Father Priam smiles and turns to David and whispers. "The names?"
David hates this. It's in his head but he can't catch it on his tongue exactly and he blurts out "Cee, Cee-something? Um, Smith and-" David scrunches his face tight and the little girl laughs.
"Elena!" She coos and David wants to die. Father Priam leads them away to their quarters and explains David's condition. Through the echoes he can hear Elena asking about his eye.
Father Anthony walks back into the hallway, his conversation trailing off "…right here if you wanted to see him."
The man nods and smiles, he's soaking wet with short light hair and a scar along his forehead. He walks with a limp and has a bottle of wine underneath his arm. He holds out a hand to David.
"Dean Winchester."
David nods and shakes his hand. "I'm David."
Dean gives him an odd little smile. "Hi, David."
***
David comes to understand Dean Winchester is not one of the victims St. Basil's helps; rather he brings people that need help to them. Dean doesn't speak much about who he is and where he comes from other then the basic facts. He gives David yes or no answers and David likes him more and more. Not just because of the fact that he doesn't dance around things, or say cryptic shit like the monks; but because Dean is letting him drink his wine. Father Anthony and Father Priam never drink and David always feels too awkward to ask.
Dean is funny, he smiles and cracks jokes and makes fun of the gnarly scar running across his head, and calls himself "gimpy" because of his leg. David decides he likes him a whole lot.
The only faux pas he commits is when he tries to call David, "Davey". David politely corrects him and says that he prefers his full name, and Dean chuckles and says okay.
Dean then starts to question David, about what he does at St. Basil's. What he plans to do further down the road. How he deals with what happened to him. David feels a rapport with Dean that he can't explain; so he doesn't feel weird about answering that he really doesn't know what he wants to do. He tells him things are only a little easier for him every day, but it's pretty fucking horrible to begin with. David opens up about his fears and his anxieties and his frustrations with his memory and Dean just listens and pours out the rest of his wine, and licks the neck of bottle where some had trickled down. David's stomach flips a little.
"Hey David, just one more question, are you… Are you happy? I mean, not just happy here, but are you happy? In general?"
David screws his face up and he can't answer. Dean mumbles "Nevermind," and finishes off his drink.
Elena and her mother walk by and she points and says with all the conviction of a mean little schoolgirl "Mommy, he has the evil eye too!" Her mother shushes her and scoots her along faster, offering David a sympathetic smile.
David wants to run to his room but Dean just scoffs and says "What a bitch!"
David fixes him with a strange look. "Dean, she's like seven."
"Still not an excuse to be a bitch. Dude, that eye is awesome. You look like one of those dogs. Or David Bowie. Hey! That could be your new nickname, David Bowie."
David smiles.
"Ask me again."
"What?"
"Ask me again if I'm happy."
"Are you happy?"
"Right now, yeah. Right now I am."
Dean nods, "That's good to know."
***
David doesn't think too much of Dean's probing questions for him, he hasn't had someone he could even begin to think of as a friend in so long, he's just glad for the chance to spend time with him. He walks Dean to his car and waves as the black Chevy Impala speeds off.
When he goes back inside, Father Priam asks, "What was his name?"
"Dean Winchester. From Lawrence, Kansas. He took 3 bottles of wine but drank one here. He drives a black Chevy Impala." He's awesome, David doesn't add.
Father Anthony smiles and offers David some fresh grapes and Father Priam gives him a satisfied little nod.
***
David thinks about what it means to be happy. He reads the bible more and continues to devour the library in search of what could make him happy. He thinks about what it means to lead a good life. What ethics are, and the limits of reason. He feels like a scholar but yearns for the company of others to discuss. Father Anthony never gives straight answers, and Father Priam treats him like a child without realizing. He turns back to writing and tries to find his happiness.
He decides that he likes being social and he starts talking to people again. He leaves the monastery to run errands and sits in coffee shops writing and people-watching. He chats up customers and the waitstaff knows how he takes his coffee. They also become patient with him when he forgets that he's already ordered his food, they've figured out that he doesn't actually want 3 cups of coffee and 2 tuna melts.
Children still point at his eye but he laughs and thinks about David Bowie.
David has the closet thing to a dream he's had in months. It's Dean in front of his Impala, turning to him and smiling. David wants to push him against the car but he can't move.
Two weeks later, Dean shows up.
***
It's a clear day this time, sunny and warm. David is in the cloisters, reading Emerson. He hears footsteps against the stone floor and looks up to see Dean and Father Anthony. Dean is without his leather jacket this time, covered in what he hopes is road dust but looks a bit nastier. He's got a small bag slung over his shoulder and he walks by quickly towards the guest quarters. He flips David a small wave and Father Anthony turns to speak with him.
"Dean's back." He says and Father Anthony nods.
"He's brought some people with him again, would you like to-"
"Is he staying with us?"
"For tonight, yes--I had to talk him out of sleeping in his car. Dean wants to make it up to Anchorage by Friday. I told him to at least stay for a while and get some rest, fill up the car and take some supplies."
"Is that where he lives?"
"Not really, he travels around."
David laughs, "He sleeps in his car?"
"When he sleeps at all."
"What does he do, exactly?"
"Dean does good things for people. He helps them when they need it."
"Like you and Father Priam?"
Father Anthony laughs, "He has a more hands-on approach then we do, but yes."
"So, he's like some kind of hero?"
"To some people..." Father Anthony stands up and motions for him to follow. "I promised him a case of wine this time, would you help me carry it upstairs?"
***
David brings the wine out when he knows Dean's there. He hasn't showered yet and is covered in filth, the hood of his car is popped and he's rummaging around, looking for something with a flashlight. David clears his throat and Dean turns and hits him with a smile, and dejá vu washes all over David.
"Hey, Dean."
"Hey, David." Dean leans back against the car and nods towards the case, "You can put that down wherever, I need to borrow your hands."
David swallows and puts the wine down near him and walks over to Dean, who hands him is flashlight and he shines it over the hood as Dean dives back in.
"Father Anthony said you were spending the night."
"Yeah maybe, quick bite and a shower first. I gotta get all the way up to Alaska by Friday."
"What're you doing there?"
"Ahhh, just some lousy job, can you move to the left? Thanks."
"It's gonna be cold there." Dean turns and gives him a weird little look before David realizes how stupid and obvious that comment was.
"Yeah, it's pretty cold in Alaska."
"Velvet Underground..." David mumbles and Dean either doesn't hear him or ignores him, and he gets back to work. David thinks he's such a freak, that he can remember a random line from a song but he can't remember when he heard it. He feels like a teenager again, or what he assumes he was like as a teenager. Awkward and fidgety, not knowing how exactly to say what he wants to, everything coming out in wrong little spouts of words.
Dean turns some more screws and fiddles around a bit before declaring, "Done!" and slamming the hood down. He's got an accomplished look and snatches the flashlight back. "I'm going to go take a much-needed shower. Tell Father Tony I like my steak rare."
David laughs and grabs the case again and asks, "Should I put this away?"
"Yeah in the back," Dean opens the backseat door and frowns at the lack of room, starts moving things around and David just pops the trunk like it's nothing. There's a false bottom and he pulls it up just as Dean yells, "Don't!"
It's incredible the sheer amount of stuff he's got stashed in there. Machetes, boxes of bullets, smaller knives, some clean and some stained with god knows what. There are guns of every kind and shape and size. It's like a museum of weaponry. Dean's behind him stammering to explain it all. David turns around and stares in his panicked eyes.
"Wow... You really are some kinda hero, right?"
Dean shuffles his feet and looks down muttering and nodding.
***
Dinner is quiet and cordial; when Father Anthony and Father Priam retire, Dean gets up and starts heading out. David follows him all the way to his car, practically begging him to reconsider.
"You're not staying? Really?"
"If I start now I can clear a couple hundred miles before I need to stop."
"If you stay, you could drive most of the way tomorrow."
"Nah, I better go. Wouldn't want to wear out my welcome."
"I'm sure Father Anthony would love for you to stay."
"David, I have to go, okay?"
"Okay." And David feels like a brat, but he just wants to stomp his feet and whine at Dean and make him stay .
"I'll come by again when I need to. Look, you're okay, right? You're doing better? You're happy here?"
"Yeah..." David looks around, up at the sky and tries to concentrate on the web of stars instead of meeting Dean's eyes. Not having depth perception is a funny thing, he knows they're far away but they don't always look so hard to get. Like he could reach his hand up and pull down a couple.
"Then that's all that matters," David says something under his breath, "What was that?"
"Said, I'd be happier if you stuck around." David feels his face burn a little and quickly adds, "I mean, to talk and, you're funny. To have, around. Here."
Dean claps David on the shoulder and looks him right dead in the eye. "I promise, I'll come by and stay a whole day. Around. Here."
Dean drives into the night and David thinks about Alaska. Dean was going to Alaska.
***
David asks Father Anthony about the people Dean's helped. How he helped them, why he did it. Father Anthony is still cagey about giving him exact answers and Father Priam gives him no answers at all. In fact, Father Priam balks when David refers to Dean as "some kind of hero". David quickly realizes that Father Priam does not care for Dean Winchester one bit. It just makes him like Dean even more.
He tries questioning the old man Dean brought with him as delicately as he can. His eyes are tired and the old man says to David that he wouldn't believe him if he told him the truth. David presses on and finally the old man looks at him and asks:
"Do you believe in ghosts?"
He doesn't wait for an answer before launching into a story about how he met a woman when he was young and had an affair with her. She was married and the husband went made with rage; killed her and then shot himself.
The ghost of the jilted man had been calling to him for decades, thinking if it could seek vengeance, it would be at peace. Dean had sent the ghost away, saved him and his grandchildren who had been visiting him. The children were with a family friend; he was at St. Basil's to make peace with what he did. How his actions and in-actions had lead to the death of his beloved, and the destruction of an innocent soul.
After all that, David has to lie down for a few hours. He doesn't think about Dean for weeks.
But the dreams start to signify Dean's arrival, and this time he pictures Dean handing him a stack of books.
***
It's so bright and hot outside David drives into town and buys sunglasses and iced coffee. He's got the radio on loud, they're playing Talking Heads and he sings along horribly off-key.
When he pulls into the driveway, Dean is there, leaning against the hood of the Impala. He's got a square green bag at his feet and a knowing smirk. David resists the urge to jump out of the car and run to him, by the time he walks over to Dean he's got this big stupid smile on his face.
"Y'know I was thinking I could just make my escape and you'd never know the difference. But then I thought I could probably scam another free meal outta Father Tony if I stuck around and entertained his errand boy."
It's only the third time he's ever seen Dean, but David feels okay to tease him back. "Tell the truth Dean, your leg gave out and now you're stuck there waiting for me to come help you."
"Hey! Don't tease the gimp. If you live in a monastery you can't tease gimps, it's a rule."
David laughs and Dean stands up, reaching into his bag. "Father Tony told me you were running out of things to read. I've been trying to get rid of these for a while." He hands him a few books.
"Wow, thanks." David turns them over, they're worn and he flips through a few pages. "Law books?"
"Yeah, they've been lying around for too long. Thought you could give 'em a good home."
David is fully aware that hugging them to his chest like a 12-year old girl isn't scoring any cool points with Dean.
***
He convinces Dean it's too nice of a day to be inside, so they take a walk around the grounds. David moves slowly and Dean accuses him of coddling him in a mocking tone. They walk down to the small garden Father Priam keeps, and it's there that David finally gets up his nerve.
"Dean,"
"Yeah?" Dean doesn't look up right away.
"You save people, right?"
"I try." He turns his head and looks at David.
"I've been trying to remember-"
"Don't,"
"You saved me, right? You brought me here, didn't you?"
"Uhh,"
"That's why you always talk to me, you're always checking up on me. Making sure I'm okay. Asking me if I'm happy here."
"David..."
"You're like, my hero."
For once, Dean is speechless. David moves forward and without really thinking he hugs him. Dean hugs back and pats him twice. "Okay, that's enough."
"I'd probably be dead-"
"David! Stop it, okay? Just stop it. Let it go."
David waits a few moments and apologizes. Dean brushes him off and says, "This was a bad idea, I'm gonna get out of here..."
He takes off an hour later and David goes up to his room and locks himself in there the rest of the day. He throws the books in a corner.
***
It's been a week and his shock at what Dean did has turned into anger and frustration at what happened. Why did Dean have to leave? Why couldn't he have just stayed like he said he would?
David shakes it off; his mind tends to wander when he thinks about Dean. He'll be listening to Father Priam speak and then Dean will creep into his head, and his attention is elsewhere. He forgets about being hungry or thirsty or whatever it is he has to do at any given moment.
When he finally decides his curiosity has the best of him, he starts reading the books Dean gave him. His mind needs intellectual stimulation, craves it, keeps him awake at night.
There's a name though on all the books, that jumps out at him. Property of Sam Winchester.
Winchester rattles around his brain setting off tiny sparks until David finally made the necessary logic leap. Dean's last name was also Winchester. Dean and Sam Winchester. How were they connected?
Father Anthony and Father Priam knew. Sam was Dean's younger brother.
"Died two or three years ago, before you knew him. He took it pretty hard." Father Priam nodded. "Lost his father in '07 I think, and his mother when he was a child. Sam was all he had left."
"Did either of you know Sam?"
"Only what Dean would tell us. He never came by, no."
David thanked him for the information and as he was about to leave, Father Anthony added, "Dean must really think a lot of you, to give you something that belonged to Sam."
"I guess so-"
"I think he's quite fond of you." Father Anthony had a twinkle in his eye that monks should not have. David flushed and Father Priam turned an interesting shade of pink but otherwise remained silent.
***
David leaves the optometrist with a prescription for eyeglasses. He got pulled over for speeding and when the cop found out he was half-blind, he gave him a ticket and an order to see an eye doctor within 90 days.
David is fuming when he gets back, (the bus takes forever,) he has to get money to buy glasses and Father Priam will probably want to drive him and make him pick out the most sensible pair. As if he didn't already look enough like a freak. He's only going to wear them for driving, but still!
There was no warning. Dean is just there in Father Anthony's office, leaning back in his chair, his leg propped up on the desk. He's gesturing his arms wildly and saying "But I don't get why I gotta call you Father Tony and Priam gets to call you Brother? I wanna call you Brother Tony."
Father Anthony laughs, "We refer to one another as 'Brother' but are known to others as Father."
"So it's really that bad if I call you Brother?"
"Yes, it's disrespectful." David can't help interjecting, and he feels like he's Father Priam, waggling his finger back and forth at Dean.
Dean shrugs, "Well, forgive me Father?"
"Of course, Dean." Father Anthony looks at David. "How did it go?"
David worries his lip, "I need glasses." He looks at Dean, "For driving."
Dean doesn't laugh or make fun, just nods. Father Anthony's already reaching into his desk, pulling out a strongbox. "I swear I'll pay you back-"
Father Anthony tut-tuts his protests and hands him the money. He technically works for the monastery for free room and board. He gets a stipend sometimes, but it's not very much.
"Is Father Priam around? I need a ride back into town." David asks.
Father Anthony shakes his head, "I'm afraid he's out this afternoon, took the car down to St. Luvic's for a conference."
"Oh, I guess I'll go tomorrow."
"Nonsense, Dean wouldn't mind giving you a ride, would he?"
"'Course not," Dean stands. "C'mon David, let's get you a monocle or something cool."
David sighs inwardly and nods. The only reason that David agrees to go with Dean is because the sooner he gets his glasses, the sooner he can drive again and have some semblance of freedom. And though he'd never admit it, he really does want to ride in the Impala. It's just such a pretty car, all sleek and black and powerful.
So he folds his arms and follows Dean outside. Dean's still going on about how much cooler a monocle would look then a pair of glasses, "I mean, it's just the one eye, right? Why have the extra lens? It's wasteful David. You have to get a monocle, for the sake of the environment."
"I am not wearing a monocle, Dean." David says and opens the passenger door. The seat is all the way back.
Dean scoffs and slides into his side easily, looks up at David and makes a circle with his index finger and thumb in front of his face. "Yeah, I'm not digging it so much anymore. Let's get you some x-ray specs."
David shakes his head and sits down, pulls the door shut and realizes that his knees haven't hit the dash. In fact, he's quite comfortable. "You always keep the seat this far back?"
Dean pulls out onto the road, "Yeah, I run a little side business driving around basketball players and giants."
David snorts.
"Ah! See, I knew that'd get you."
"What are you talking about?"
"Nothing." Dean flips on the music and David loses himself in the grinding guitars and the pounding drums. It's not the art school 70's punk rock he's been listening to, but it's a distraction.
"Hey, if you smile I'll let you pick the music."
David gives Dean a cross look. He knows he's supposed to be upset at Dean, but he really can't remember why. Details still escape him, sometimes he just has to trust his feelings.
"And if you cheer the hell up and actually try to have some fun with this, I might-might…" Dean stops at the traffic light and looks directly at David, "Let you drive on the way back, a little."
David feels stubborn and torn. Normally he would leap at the chance to drive Dean's Impala, he's fully aware of how gorgeous the car is. But he's supposed to feel lousy today. He needs glasses and has to take a handout from Father Anthony to get them, and he should feel horribly guilty and angry at himself for being half-blind and-
And Dean's smile is infectious. He spends most of the ride into town cracking jokes at David, by the time they get to the optician, he's grinning.
***
David wiggles the glasses on his nose. They're simple wireless frames, and so lightweight that he keeps worrying that they're not on. They make everything magnified and he gets a little dizzy when he looks over the edge of the lens and back again.
Dean is talking to him while he sits in the driver's seat. Making sure David knows the proper protocol for driving his car, and that he will hunt him down and skin him alive if anything happens to his baby. David nods and places his hands on the wheel.
"Okay then," Dean saunters over to the passenger side and closes the door. "Go for it."
David turns the key and the car fires to life. The engine purrs so nice and the lift is amazing. They're pealing down the highway in no time, and David's hand automatically goes to the radio knob, finds his favorite college-rock station. Dean whines a little as the sounds of Jesus and Mary Chain fill the car, but David ignores him.
Dean sits back and seems to let his tension go, David can see him looking over at him. A lot. It's almost distracting the way Dean looks at him and David bites his lip.
Dean leans his head back and his eyes just slip shut. There's no yawn, no signs of his fatigue from before, he just conks out. David wonders when the last time he slept was.
David gets back at to monastery but he lets Dean sleep. He doesn't want to wake him up just yet. He crosses his arms and pillows his head on the steering wheel. Watches the rise and falls of Dean's chest, listens to the deep, heavy breathing.
It's close to a half-hour before Dean opens his eyes.
"Where did I come from?" David blurts out.
"Huh?" Dean is groggy and shakes his head.
"Where did you find me?"
Dean blinks and rolls his head back against the seat, "California." Dean finally says. "Found you in California."
California's a big place, Dean can't manage to give him any specifics when he tries to ask. California could be his home. He could go there and try to find somewhere familiar. Dean starts to nod off again.
"Dean? You need me to help you upstairs?"
Dean opens the side door and gets out. "Nah Sammy, I got it." He sways on his feet.
David gets out and loops his arms around Dean. He must still be half-asleep, thinking he was his brother.
"Anything else you wanna tell me while you're feeling open, Dean?" David laughs.
"Mm sorry."
"Sorry for what?"
"I shouldnt've let you go without more've a fight."
David nods as he walks Dean to the guest rooms. "You're talking to Sammy, right?"
"I'm so sorry. I couldn't keep my promise." David walks Dean up the stairs.
"I'm sure Sammy knows-" David says opening the door.
"Sammy's gone. But that's okay."
"Yeah?" David lets him down on the nicest bed he could find, Dean lies on his back, flat.
"It's okay, you're here now."
David never, ever tells Dean what he said to him that day, because David forgets it about an hour later. He knows Dean was talking to him, about something, and then fell asleep. The little details of the conversation vanish. Something about his brother. Oh, well.
***
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