Unexpected Destinies Chapter 6
Title Unexpected Destinies
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: up to and including Exile on Main St., AU from the end of season 5
Warnings: AU
Word Count: 2,307
Summary: Sometimes ignorance really is bliss.
PAST
Sam sighed and looked at their grandfather as if they'd had this conversation before and suddenly Dean didn't want to be here. He didn't want to hear this, but he couldn't tear his eyes away from them. With a sudden horrible clarity he knew that he wasn't going to like what came next no matter how much he wanted to know why Sammy hadn't come to him or just let him know that he'd gotten out.
"Samuel," Sam stated as if trying to stop it before it even started.
"No, Sam, I mean it. I've given you some time to get used to being back and Dean to get settled into his new life, now don't you think it's time you told him the truth?"
"No," Sam said flatly and it was like a sucker punch to the gut for Dean. "This is what he wanted, the life that he wanted."
Dean felt his jaw drop at the words. How could Sam say that? Sure, he'd wanted to settle down and have a family, a normal life, but not like that. Not at the expense of Sam. The whole time he'd been in Cicero, the whole time he'd been with Lisa and Ben, he'd wanted nothing more than to have his brother back. To know that Sammy was not only okay, but happy as well. Maybe then he'd have been able to just settle down and be happy, but not like it had been. Never like that and how on Earth could Sam even think that it could have been okay like that? With him thinking that his little brother was undergoing relentless, eternal torment?
Not to mention the fact that he'd been completely unable to find a job. Or at least not one he could face doing long term anyway. Everything had been so mundane and mind numbing, not to mention the fact that he'd missed being able to genuinely help people, but all of those jobs required a higher degree than the crappy GED he had. Not that he had any desire whatsoever to try and rectify that. He'd always hated school with its inane classes and pointless rules and had taken pleasure in dropping out to help Dad on hunts or to look after Sam. Hell researching had been better than having to put up with one more lecture on how he'd never get anywhere in life if he didn't 'apply' himself. He did apply himself, just to what was important.
The simple line froze Dean in place. To what was important. Amazing how radically the meaning of those simple words had changed since then. At the time, what was important had been Dad, Sam and hunting, saving people. Now, although Sam had still been on the list, the rest had seemed to have fallen away, either out of necessity or just due to a change in his priorities. Or at least so he'd thought until he'd been unable to find a job that didn't involve helping people and that appealed to him. Lisa had suggested going back to school long enough so he could apply to the police academy. The suggestion had left him flabbergasted for a moment before he'd nearly died of laughter. Just the thought of him becoming a real LEO, with his criminal record, had been too much.
"People can hunt and have a stable family life," Samuel stated. "Just because your father moved you around all the time doesn't mean that it has to be like that."
"Yeah, and look how well that worked for you."
A muscle twitched in Samuel's jaw and Dean could briefly see the pain and guilt in his eyes before it was hidden. "I'm not saying that it's without risks, what happened to Deanna and me is proof enough of that, but that doesn't mean that it has to be like that. The Campbells have been doing this for generations, I was serious when I said that your ancestors were on the Mayflower, killing vampires. They were hunters, Sam. You come from generations of hunters, hunters with families."
"It's still a greater risk," Sam insisted.
"Than what? An average person who's never hunted? Yes, though you and I both know that they're not entirely safe from the supernatural either. But riskier than it is for a hunter that's stopped hunting? No, that I don't think is true. Just look at what happened to your family."
"That was different, Azazel targeted us because of me."
"No, he targeted you because of your mother, he was choosing the parents, he had no other way of making the deals in time as it takes ten years for them to come due."
Dean blinked at that. What his grandfather said was true, Azazel couldn't have known what the kids would be like, hence the reason he'd probably had so many of them. It was just that with the whole Lucifer vessel thing he'd lost track of that. But what were the odds of Azazel selecting the one child marked to be the devil's vessel, even it was merely one among many he chose? He'd never liked coincidences and this was far too great a one for his tastes. If it was true, though, it could explain why Sam had been one of Azazel's favorites as the demon had probably sensed some of it within his brother.
"Besides, he never would have met your mother at all if she hadn't been hunting, so my argument stands."
"He selected her while she was still doing it, it was just bad luck that the consequences occurred so much later."
"That's exactly what I'm saying, you never know what you've done during your time as a hunter that will come back to haunt you later. Maybe it's already happened. Maybe something has already marked Dean for vengeance and it's just bidding its time for whatever reason. In that case his being out of the life won't actually matter, it won't save him and the ones he's with, in fact it might hurt them as he'll have lowered his guard and have no one to watch his back."
Dean shuddered at the thought of having been at Lisa's in that type of scenario. It was something he'd never fully allowed himself to consider, but it had been there, at the back of his mind, most likely influencing his behavior he now realized. No wonder he'd been able to feel truly relaxed if he'd, even subconsciously, been pondering what he could be bringing down on Lisa and Ben.
Again he was aware of the fact that he wasn't allowing himself to think about what Sam was saying and, more importantly, about why he might be saying it. But, well, denial and shoving aside that which he didn't want to think about had served him well so far, so Dean now saw no reason not to continue doing so now.
"You don't know Dean," Sam started, almost dismissing all their grandfather had just said. "If he finds out I'm back, he'll just leave Lisa and Ben, no matter how much he might like being there. He'll just give it all up, not even considering a compromise like what you did."
"That's a little egocentric, don't you think?" Samuel replied.
"No, it's not. Dad basically conditioned Dean as far as I'm concerned and it's so ingrained now that he still follows it unquestioningly."
Though there was pain, Dean finally felt something else, namely anger. The ghost of one of their old arguments was enough to fan the flame a little. Why did Sam always have to come down so hard on Dad? All the man had ever done, all he'd ever wanted, was to protect his family and ensure that the thing that killed Mom didn't come after them too as he'd always feared it might. Or rather that it didn't come after Sam. And so what if he felt that looking after his little brother was important, it was because he loved him, not some darker thing like Sammy was currently trying to make it out to be.
"Look," Sam sighed. "I know you've met Dean, but you don't really know him. Trust me on this, it's better that he doesn't know that I'm back. Bobby, that friend I mentioned before who knows both of us really well, agrees with me on this."
The revelation was like a bombshell and Dean could only stare at his brother as the pain, once again, ripped through him. Bobby knew? Bobby knew that Sam was back- that Sam had been back for nine weeks now- and he hadn't told him? Over the years, he'd come think of the older hunter as almost a second father and he'd have liked to think that Bobby thought of him as a son. That he might understand him.
Obviously he'd been wrong. Horribly wrong.
"I don't get why you continue to insist on trying to contact this guy."
It was the male voice from before, the one that had been teasing Sammy, and Dean turned to find a man a bit older than himself standing in the doorway. Even without knowing what he did, he'd have been able to peg him as a fellow hunter. He'd never quite figured out what it was about the hardcore hunters, the ones who were in it for life, but there was something.
"Christian-" Samuel began.
"No, I'm serious. You keep pestering Sam about him and I just don't get it. I mean he clearly couldn't handle the life, so why bother dragging him back into it?"
The words struck Dean like bullets. Couldn't handle the life? He'd handled the life just fine and for over two and a half decades, thank you very much. So what if he wanted something more? That didn't make him any less of a hunter.
"Dean," Castiel said, laying a hand on his charge's shoulder. "Perhaps we should go, you don't need to hear this."
"Yes, Cas, I do," Dean forced out between gritted teeth.
"Dean."
"Cas."
If it wouldn't have meant taking his eyes off Christian and his grandfather, Dean would have met Castiel's gaze head on to let the angel see his determination.
"Because he's a hunter and we need everyone we can get," Samuel stated. "You've seen what's starting to emerge from the shadows."
"We're handling it," Christian replied. "Besides, we need people we can trust and he'll be rusty. And it doesn't sound like he was all the good of a hunter to begin with."
The impact of the words was like a physical blow. Given that this Christian was arguing with Samuel about his worth to them, there was only one person where he could have gotten that assessment of his hunting skills from.
Sam.
It was a wonder that he could still feel the hurt from his little brother's seemingly endless betrayals, Dean thought. Yet hurt it did, badly. Suddenly it was two years ago and he stood facing Sam, both of them pumped up on the siren's venom, spewing filth at each other, aiming to hurt as much as possible. He could still remember everything his brother had said, all of the barbs he'd thrown and, the worst thing was, he knew that there was truth to all of them. He only had to look at what he'd said to know that, which meant that everything Sam said held some truth to it.
As evidenced by what he'd obviously said to Christian.
Their grandfather looked sharply at his youngest grandson and Sam merely shrugged. "He's right, Samuel. Ever since he was brought back from Hell, Dean's been different, weaker. He's no longer been as willing to do what needs to be done and kept ignoring the best solutions as he couldn't stomach them. Or because it wasn't about him doing it."
Castiel's hand was back on Dean's shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly but he hardly noticed, the words cutting him like a knife. It was the siren all over again only this time his brother wasn't under some supernatural creature's influence, he was merely under the assumption that Dean wasn't there. And really, wasn't that exactly when Sam would be most honest? When he could speak freely without needing to worry about hurting his older brother's feelings?
"Just look at the end of the Apocalypse, he resisted my idea forever, desperately trying to find another way, a 'better' way he claimed. In reality he was seeking something to let him shine and it wasn't until Death forced his hand that he finally caved and even then ungraciously. And look, it worked like a charm!" Sam stated. "No, Dean's far better off where he is. Let him play house, we can take care of this."
Dean staggered back and it was only Castiel's arms that kept him up.
"Dean," Castiel all but begged but failed to reach the hunter.
"Sam-" Samuel started.
"He's right," Christian interrupted. "Besides, we work well together, what would he do? We're not exactly in need of a master torturer, now are we?"
Master torturer.
Sammy had told them.
Sammy had told them what had happened in Hell. What he'd done and become. Sammy had told them that which he'd told his brother in confidence, safe in the knowledge that he'd never tell another soul without Dean's permission.
Unable to even think of coping with anything else, Dean turned towards Castiel, but his voice refused to cooperate and he was mute. Luckily the angel seemed to understand what he meant and with the soft touch of fingers, they were gone.
/
"What would he do?" Samuel repeated. "Why he'd hunt with us, of course. I don't know what Sam may have said to you, but what I can say is that Dean is a good hunter. A damn good one."
A.N.: I'm sorry to say that I will be away without internet access the next few days and thus will be unable to update this fic. I will post the next chapter as soon as I'm back.
Chapter 7
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: up to and including Exile on Main St., AU from the end of season 5
Warnings: AU
Word Count: 2,307
Summary: Sometimes ignorance really is bliss.
PAST
Sam sighed and looked at their grandfather as if they'd had this conversation before and suddenly Dean didn't want to be here. He didn't want to hear this, but he couldn't tear his eyes away from them. With a sudden horrible clarity he knew that he wasn't going to like what came next no matter how much he wanted to know why Sammy hadn't come to him or just let him know that he'd gotten out.
"Samuel," Sam stated as if trying to stop it before it even started.
"No, Sam, I mean it. I've given you some time to get used to being back and Dean to get settled into his new life, now don't you think it's time you told him the truth?"
"No," Sam said flatly and it was like a sucker punch to the gut for Dean. "This is what he wanted, the life that he wanted."
Dean felt his jaw drop at the words. How could Sam say that? Sure, he'd wanted to settle down and have a family, a normal life, but not like that. Not at the expense of Sam. The whole time he'd been in Cicero, the whole time he'd been with Lisa and Ben, he'd wanted nothing more than to have his brother back. To know that Sammy was not only okay, but happy as well. Maybe then he'd have been able to just settle down and be happy, but not like it had been. Never like that and how on Earth could Sam even think that it could have been okay like that? With him thinking that his little brother was undergoing relentless, eternal torment?
Not to mention the fact that he'd been completely unable to find a job. Or at least not one he could face doing long term anyway. Everything had been so mundane and mind numbing, not to mention the fact that he'd missed being able to genuinely help people, but all of those jobs required a higher degree than the crappy GED he had. Not that he had any desire whatsoever to try and rectify that. He'd always hated school with its inane classes and pointless rules and had taken pleasure in dropping out to help Dad on hunts or to look after Sam. Hell researching had been better than having to put up with one more lecture on how he'd never get anywhere in life if he didn't 'apply' himself. He did apply himself, just to what was important.
The simple line froze Dean in place. To what was important. Amazing how radically the meaning of those simple words had changed since then. At the time, what was important had been Dad, Sam and hunting, saving people. Now, although Sam had still been on the list, the rest had seemed to have fallen away, either out of necessity or just due to a change in his priorities. Or at least so he'd thought until he'd been unable to find a job that didn't involve helping people and that appealed to him. Lisa had suggested going back to school long enough so he could apply to the police academy. The suggestion had left him flabbergasted for a moment before he'd nearly died of laughter. Just the thought of him becoming a real LEO, with his criminal record, had been too much.
"People can hunt and have a stable family life," Samuel stated. "Just because your father moved you around all the time doesn't mean that it has to be like that."
"Yeah, and look how well that worked for you."
A muscle twitched in Samuel's jaw and Dean could briefly see the pain and guilt in his eyes before it was hidden. "I'm not saying that it's without risks, what happened to Deanna and me is proof enough of that, but that doesn't mean that it has to be like that. The Campbells have been doing this for generations, I was serious when I said that your ancestors were on the Mayflower, killing vampires. They were hunters, Sam. You come from generations of hunters, hunters with families."
"It's still a greater risk," Sam insisted.
"Than what? An average person who's never hunted? Yes, though you and I both know that they're not entirely safe from the supernatural either. But riskier than it is for a hunter that's stopped hunting? No, that I don't think is true. Just look at what happened to your family."
"That was different, Azazel targeted us because of me."
"No, he targeted you because of your mother, he was choosing the parents, he had no other way of making the deals in time as it takes ten years for them to come due."
Dean blinked at that. What his grandfather said was true, Azazel couldn't have known what the kids would be like, hence the reason he'd probably had so many of them. It was just that with the whole Lucifer vessel thing he'd lost track of that. But what were the odds of Azazel selecting the one child marked to be the devil's vessel, even it was merely one among many he chose? He'd never liked coincidences and this was far too great a one for his tastes. If it was true, though, it could explain why Sam had been one of Azazel's favorites as the demon had probably sensed some of it within his brother.
"Besides, he never would have met your mother at all if she hadn't been hunting, so my argument stands."
"He selected her while she was still doing it, it was just bad luck that the consequences occurred so much later."
"That's exactly what I'm saying, you never know what you've done during your time as a hunter that will come back to haunt you later. Maybe it's already happened. Maybe something has already marked Dean for vengeance and it's just bidding its time for whatever reason. In that case his being out of the life won't actually matter, it won't save him and the ones he's with, in fact it might hurt them as he'll have lowered his guard and have no one to watch his back."
Dean shuddered at the thought of having been at Lisa's in that type of scenario. It was something he'd never fully allowed himself to consider, but it had been there, at the back of his mind, most likely influencing his behavior he now realized. No wonder he'd been able to feel truly relaxed if he'd, even subconsciously, been pondering what he could be bringing down on Lisa and Ben.
Again he was aware of the fact that he wasn't allowing himself to think about what Sam was saying and, more importantly, about why he might be saying it. But, well, denial and shoving aside that which he didn't want to think about had served him well so far, so Dean now saw no reason not to continue doing so now.
"You don't know Dean," Sam started, almost dismissing all their grandfather had just said. "If he finds out I'm back, he'll just leave Lisa and Ben, no matter how much he might like being there. He'll just give it all up, not even considering a compromise like what you did."
"That's a little egocentric, don't you think?" Samuel replied.
"No, it's not. Dad basically conditioned Dean as far as I'm concerned and it's so ingrained now that he still follows it unquestioningly."
Though there was pain, Dean finally felt something else, namely anger. The ghost of one of their old arguments was enough to fan the flame a little. Why did Sam always have to come down so hard on Dad? All the man had ever done, all he'd ever wanted, was to protect his family and ensure that the thing that killed Mom didn't come after them too as he'd always feared it might. Or rather that it didn't come after Sam. And so what if he felt that looking after his little brother was important, it was because he loved him, not some darker thing like Sammy was currently trying to make it out to be.
"Look," Sam sighed. "I know you've met Dean, but you don't really know him. Trust me on this, it's better that he doesn't know that I'm back. Bobby, that friend I mentioned before who knows both of us really well, agrees with me on this."
The revelation was like a bombshell and Dean could only stare at his brother as the pain, once again, ripped through him. Bobby knew? Bobby knew that Sam was back- that Sam had been back for nine weeks now- and he hadn't told him? Over the years, he'd come think of the older hunter as almost a second father and he'd have liked to think that Bobby thought of him as a son. That he might understand him.
Obviously he'd been wrong. Horribly wrong.
"I don't get why you continue to insist on trying to contact this guy."
It was the male voice from before, the one that had been teasing Sammy, and Dean turned to find a man a bit older than himself standing in the doorway. Even without knowing what he did, he'd have been able to peg him as a fellow hunter. He'd never quite figured out what it was about the hardcore hunters, the ones who were in it for life, but there was something.
"Christian-" Samuel began.
"No, I'm serious. You keep pestering Sam about him and I just don't get it. I mean he clearly couldn't handle the life, so why bother dragging him back into it?"
The words struck Dean like bullets. Couldn't handle the life? He'd handled the life just fine and for over two and a half decades, thank you very much. So what if he wanted something more? That didn't make him any less of a hunter.
"Dean," Castiel said, laying a hand on his charge's shoulder. "Perhaps we should go, you don't need to hear this."
"Yes, Cas, I do," Dean forced out between gritted teeth.
"Dean."
"Cas."
If it wouldn't have meant taking his eyes off Christian and his grandfather, Dean would have met Castiel's gaze head on to let the angel see his determination.
"Because he's a hunter and we need everyone we can get," Samuel stated. "You've seen what's starting to emerge from the shadows."
"We're handling it," Christian replied. "Besides, we need people we can trust and he'll be rusty. And it doesn't sound like he was all the good of a hunter to begin with."
The impact of the words was like a physical blow. Given that this Christian was arguing with Samuel about his worth to them, there was only one person where he could have gotten that assessment of his hunting skills from.
Sam.
It was a wonder that he could still feel the hurt from his little brother's seemingly endless betrayals, Dean thought. Yet hurt it did, badly. Suddenly it was two years ago and he stood facing Sam, both of them pumped up on the siren's venom, spewing filth at each other, aiming to hurt as much as possible. He could still remember everything his brother had said, all of the barbs he'd thrown and, the worst thing was, he knew that there was truth to all of them. He only had to look at what he'd said to know that, which meant that everything Sam said held some truth to it.
As evidenced by what he'd obviously said to Christian.
Their grandfather looked sharply at his youngest grandson and Sam merely shrugged. "He's right, Samuel. Ever since he was brought back from Hell, Dean's been different, weaker. He's no longer been as willing to do what needs to be done and kept ignoring the best solutions as he couldn't stomach them. Or because it wasn't about him doing it."
Castiel's hand was back on Dean's shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly but he hardly noticed, the words cutting him like a knife. It was the siren all over again only this time his brother wasn't under some supernatural creature's influence, he was merely under the assumption that Dean wasn't there. And really, wasn't that exactly when Sam would be most honest? When he could speak freely without needing to worry about hurting his older brother's feelings?
"Just look at the end of the Apocalypse, he resisted my idea forever, desperately trying to find another way, a 'better' way he claimed. In reality he was seeking something to let him shine and it wasn't until Death forced his hand that he finally caved and even then ungraciously. And look, it worked like a charm!" Sam stated. "No, Dean's far better off where he is. Let him play house, we can take care of this."
Dean staggered back and it was only Castiel's arms that kept him up.
"Dean," Castiel all but begged but failed to reach the hunter.
"Sam-" Samuel started.
"He's right," Christian interrupted. "Besides, we work well together, what would he do? We're not exactly in need of a master torturer, now are we?"
Master torturer.
Sammy had told them.
Sammy had told them what had happened in Hell. What he'd done and become. Sammy had told them that which he'd told his brother in confidence, safe in the knowledge that he'd never tell another soul without Dean's permission.
Unable to even think of coping with anything else, Dean turned towards Castiel, but his voice refused to cooperate and he was mute. Luckily the angel seemed to understand what he meant and with the soft touch of fingers, they were gone.
/
"What would he do?" Samuel repeated. "Why he'd hunt with us, of course. I don't know what Sam may have said to you, but what I can say is that Dean is a good hunter. A damn good one."
A.N.: I'm sorry to say that I will be away without internet access the next few days and thus will be unable to update this fic. I will post the next chapter as soon as I'm back.
Chapter 7