Fic: Denton, Chapter 1 (part 1)
Denton
Summary: There is something they never talk about, Dean and his father. Never had. Sam of course, doesn't know anything about it. It was always supposed to stay that way. And with dad gone, it should have been easier than ever. Set in Season 2 and preseries, Dean is 16, Sam 12.
Rating: PG13
Words: 2479
Warnings: None.
My biggest thanks to HeroInTraining who fixed my grammatical mess.
All mistakes left re of course my own!
2007
They're staying at the roadhouse for a few days.
A hunt has left Dean limping with a very sore knee and Sam decided he was tired of being the only one listening to Dean complaining about not being allowed to walk around, so he drove them here.
And it's nice with a little downtime and catching up with Jo and Ellen, but as Dean thinks, if he hears one more fight between those women, he's walking to Bobby's no matter how bad his knee is.And it's times like these that Dean really loves his brother. Sam, who’s nearly been dancing around with joy because Dean's been taking it easy with his injury, seems to finally have caught Dean's hints about being bored, when he asks if Ellen got a case.
“Three people missing from their houses down in Georgia,” Ellen says and reaches for a news clipping. “Apparently they've had some problems with door knockings lately. People dying from blood loss without any wounds and half the town seem to be suffering of night terrors.”
”Well, that's strange,” Sam says, smiles at Dean proud of himself, and reaches for the paper. Before he has the chance to grab it though, Dean smacks his hand away.
”Not strange enough,” Dean says.
“Well, it doesn't sound normal.”
“Sam, of course people got nightmares if there's a knocking murderer on the loose”
“I think we should check it out anyway, it sounds like something is going on,” Sam says and holds his hand out for the clipping.
Dean blocks it. “And even if it was we wouldn't have the time.”
”What are you talking about? You're the one going stir-crazy.” Sam looks confused.
Dean ignores him. “We're busy Ellen, but thanks for asking”.
Sam just looks at Dean like he's lost his mind, “Dean, we got nothing -”
“- Do I have to write it on my forehead before you get it, Sam? We're busy.” Dean answers and calmly takes a sip from his beer.
Ellen looks at him curiously, but puts the clipping down. “Alright, if you're busy... I'm sure someone else feels up to a trip to Denton.”
“Dean..” Sam says, but Dean cuts him off.
“Thanks Ellen.”
Sam starts pouting and Dean is satisfied. Imagine if Sam would have remembered...
“Hold on...” Sam says, and Dean's heart starts pumping blood way too fast for his liking.
“Denton?....Denton, Georgia...weren't...Dean weren't we there as kids?” Sam asks.
“How am I supposed to know? We lived in hundreds of places.” Unfortunately Sam catches his lie pretty fast. Ellen doesn't look very impressed either.
“Yes, we did!” Sam continues. “We were there for like two weeks a summer, hunting a Vrykolaka. I remember it now.”
Dean shrugs.
“And a Vrykolaka, Dean, it fits into the case.” Sam slaps his forehead like he was stupid not to think of it before.
Dean takes another sip of his beer, “Yeah, maybe.”
“But we killed it, right?”
Dean doesn't say anything. Big mistake.
“We didn't?”
“Give it a rest, Sam. We took care of the Vryko-whatever. You don't remember?”
“I was twelve. Took care? Does that mean kill?”
Dean shrugs again. He really wants this conversation to stop.
“He left cases before,” Sam says.
“Yeah, all the time,” Dean says ironically. “Dad asked if the Vry-thingy would please stop and then we left.”
“Yeah, that really sounds like dad.” Sam rolls his eyes. “Come on Dean, something happen?”
“Well, there was this chick...”
“Dean!”
“Jeez, Sammy. You're asking even more questions than when you were twelve.”
Dean doesn’t have to see Sam’s face to know it certainly look like he’s twelve, serious stubborn face, eyes shooting daggers.
“I don’t remember much Dean, except how it was weird how we just left. And if the Vrykolaka is still there it’s our responsibility, we have to stop it.”
“No, we don't,” he answers, sounding exactly like dad.
They both stare at each other for a while before Dean raises the biggest question of the day. “How can you possibly remember the name of that thing?”
Sam, however, just glares at him and says he's going to bed.
“You feel like talking?” Ellen says as she pours him another one. Dean just glares at her, hoping she'll get the point.
“Oh no, Dean. That look didn't work for your dad and it won't work for you.”
Denton, Georgia 1995
When Dean sees the sign that says they've arrived in Denton he almost jumps out of the car because he's so relieved.
It's been a long, long drive. Sure, they always have long drives, but this has been one of the worst.
Being the summer, John Winchester has, like usual, decided it means that they have the time to get to places far away. No need to think of school and stuff, just a whole summer of driving around and hunting.
Dean doesn't mind the hunting, not at all. It's the driving. Or no, it's the driving with Sam.
Sam's grown up in the car. He's used to it, way more used to it than other kids. Really, put most twelve year olds in a car for twelve hours straight and it won’t be pretty.
Sam is good at it. He mostly just.. reads. Or talks, and talks even more. But when they've been stuck in the car twelve hours a day for four days, in the middle of the summer in a very hot car - not pretty. Complaining because it's too warm, not being able to read because it's too hot, being carsick because of the heat, and hungry, and thirsty and bored and to Dean’s annoyance hardly sleeping at all due to non-functioning AC’s and weak fans in motel rooms, which means he's been cranky as well.
Not like Dean's been acting very great. To be honest it's not been just Sam. They've probably both been a pain in the ass, Dean thinks. Well…not probably. Dean's been warm and angry and hungry and thirsty and bored as well. And fighting with his brother.
Dean glances at his dad who looks tired and pissy, which is actually an improvement from earlier.
Nope, Dean can't say he enjoyed this trip.
It's been quiet the last twenty minutes. Dad had screamed at them that they better shut up or they could walk the last bit, and it worked.
It was only luck that dad didn't hear Sam mumble that anything would be better than staying in the car. Or maybe he pretended he didn't hear because he didn't feel like sending them out in an area close to the hunt when it's pitch black outside.
Dean spots a motel further up and decides it's safe to look back at his brother. Sam however is fast asleep, four days of exhaustion finally catching up with him. Dean is grateful because it was about time, but couldn't it have happened a few hours ago, or days, instead of right when they're at their destination? It would have meant at least a few hours of peace and quiet in the car.
Dad turns of the road and parks close to the check-in. Gives Dean a look that could mean either stay here without moving a muscle or wake your brother and grab our stuff. Dean decides to go with the first option while dad walks away and sticks his head out to catch some of the breeze in the warm summer night.
When dad comes back Dean steers a partly still sleeping Sam to their new home.
The room is sticky and warm with a very sad and old turned-off fan standing in the corner. Dean prays it will work.
He leads Sam to a bed who sit down on the side, scrunches his face, looking more miserable than ever and looks up at him “Deeean, it's too hot.”
Dean pats him on his knee and smiles. It's impossible to be angry at a half asleep Sam, especially when he actually got all right in the world to be complaining right now. The room is warmer than he could have imagined.
“I know, Sammy. It will be better soon, okay? I'll get the fan going and then it will be comfy in no time.”
Sam just nods tiredly and lays his head on the pillow, feet still dangling from the side of the bed, to watch Dean turn the fan on.
It takes some time and some curse words before the ancient once-upon-a-time-white fan start to spin with a loud whining noise.
Dean grins in victory and turns to his brother who seems to have missed his success and is instead once again sleeping.
“What the hell is that sound?” Dad walks in with some bags and closes the door behind him.
Dean points to the fan and dad sighs.
“Great.” Dad slides a hand across his face and actually gives Dean a tired small smile. “Alright Dean, get some sleep. I'll fix the protection.”
And Dean goes to the bed, picks Sam's legs up from the side and takes his shoes off before undressing himself and laying down on top of the blanket next to his brother.
It's a miracle and a proof of Dean’s own exhaustion that Dean falls asleep, with the light, Dad fixing, Sam's heavy breathing next to his ear and that damn whining noise.
But sleep he goes, for at least a few hours before Sam starts kicking, turning and muttering that it was both quieter and less hot in the car.
Dean agrees.
2007
“I don't expect you to share your soul with me Dean, but at least give me some heads up if another hunter will take the case.” Ellen rest her elbows on the counter and leans in to get closer to Dean.
“Ellen....I...” Dean looks down.
“If you need me to put this in the trash, I will.”
Dean looks up, surprised how she could read his inner thoughts. Psychic Ellen, who knew.
“Vrykolaka's are nasty things. If John Winchester left one alive, it must have been damn good reason too,” she says, rips the clipping apart and throws it in the trashcan.
“Now,” she says before Dean has the chance of thanking her. “You better go stop your brother from researching.”
Sure enough, when Dean comes into the little room they're staying at Sam might be pretending to be asleep, but the computer is flashing its lights like someone just closed it a minute earlier.
Dean glares at it for a moment before climbing into bed. And it doesn't take long before Sam starts talking.
“It was bad, wasn't it? Whatever happened?”
Dean rolls around, sees Sam's angsty form, sighs. “Yeah...”
“I don't really remember much. It gave me dreams, bad ones.That's all I remember. And the name of it.”
“Sam... “
“And I know those dreams it gave me haunted me years after, but the Vrykolaka was gone so there was no reason to be scared, but if it isn't...”
Dean sits up and walks towards his brother, sitting down on the edge of his bed. “If you think that we would have left if it was any danger for you-”
“I’m not scared of being in danger,” Sam says and sits up too. “But other people are, because we left the case open. Dean, we need to finish it off.”
“No. We're not going, Sam, and that's final.”
"You can't just tell me what to do.”
“No,” Dean says and looks into his brother’s eyes. If there ever was a time for him to do the puppy dog eyes, it's now. “But I can beg you to let this one go.“
“Dean…“
“Sam, look, I wouldn’t ask you to stay out of this if it wasn’t important. You must know that.“
Sam looks down at his feet, and Dean can almost hear his brain working.
“Fine, but you owe me an explanation.” Sam answers simply and lays down, kicking Dean with his feet.
Okay, that was easy. Hopefully not too easy.
“Fine, but not now.” He stands up and lay down on his own bed, finishing the conversation with a “Night, Sammy,” hopefully never talking about it again.
Except that he knows Sam. He sighs and rolls over, listening to his brothers quiet breathing. Remembering dad telling him Sam would find out one day, because secrets never stay secrets forever.
He thinks Sam has gone to sleep when his brother suddenly breaks the silence.
“Since when does Dean Winchester beg?”
“Since always, the ladies love it Sammy.”
Continue to Chapter 1, part 2
Summary: There is something they never talk about, Dean and his father. Never had. Sam of course, doesn't know anything about it. It was always supposed to stay that way. And with dad gone, it should have been easier than ever. Set in Season 2 and preseries, Dean is 16, Sam 12.
Rating: PG13
Words: 2479
Warnings: None.
My biggest thanks to HeroInTraining who fixed my grammatical mess.
All mistakes left re of course my own!
2007
They're staying at the roadhouse for a few days.
A hunt has left Dean limping with a very sore knee and Sam decided he was tired of being the only one listening to Dean complaining about not being allowed to walk around, so he drove them here.
And it's nice with a little downtime and catching up with Jo and Ellen, but as Dean thinks, if he hears one more fight between those women, he's walking to Bobby's no matter how bad his knee is.And it's times like these that Dean really loves his brother. Sam, who’s nearly been dancing around with joy because Dean's been taking it easy with his injury, seems to finally have caught Dean's hints about being bored, when he asks if Ellen got a case.
“Three people missing from their houses down in Georgia,” Ellen says and reaches for a news clipping. “Apparently they've had some problems with door knockings lately. People dying from blood loss without any wounds and half the town seem to be suffering of night terrors.”
”Well, that's strange,” Sam says, smiles at Dean proud of himself, and reaches for the paper. Before he has the chance to grab it though, Dean smacks his hand away.
”Not strange enough,” Dean says.
“Well, it doesn't sound normal.”
“Sam, of course people got nightmares if there's a knocking murderer on the loose”
“I think we should check it out anyway, it sounds like something is going on,” Sam says and holds his hand out for the clipping.
Dean blocks it. “And even if it was we wouldn't have the time.”
”What are you talking about? You're the one going stir-crazy.” Sam looks confused.
Dean ignores him. “We're busy Ellen, but thanks for asking”.
Sam just looks at Dean like he's lost his mind, “Dean, we got nothing -”
“- Do I have to write it on my forehead before you get it, Sam? We're busy.” Dean answers and calmly takes a sip from his beer.
Ellen looks at him curiously, but puts the clipping down. “Alright, if you're busy... I'm sure someone else feels up to a trip to Denton.”
“Dean..” Sam says, but Dean cuts him off.
“Thanks Ellen.”
Sam starts pouting and Dean is satisfied. Imagine if Sam would have remembered...
“Hold on...” Sam says, and Dean's heart starts pumping blood way too fast for his liking.
“Denton?....Denton, Georgia...weren't...Dean weren't we there as kids?” Sam asks.
“How am I supposed to know? We lived in hundreds of places.” Unfortunately Sam catches his lie pretty fast. Ellen doesn't look very impressed either.
“Yes, we did!” Sam continues. “We were there for like two weeks a summer, hunting a Vrykolaka. I remember it now.”
Dean shrugs.
“And a Vrykolaka, Dean, it fits into the case.” Sam slaps his forehead like he was stupid not to think of it before.
Dean takes another sip of his beer, “Yeah, maybe.”
“But we killed it, right?”
Dean doesn't say anything. Big mistake.
“We didn't?”
“Give it a rest, Sam. We took care of the Vryko-whatever. You don't remember?”
“I was twelve. Took care? Does that mean kill?”
Dean shrugs again. He really wants this conversation to stop.
“He left cases before,” Sam says.
“Yeah, all the time,” Dean says ironically. “Dad asked if the Vry-thingy would please stop and then we left.”
“Yeah, that really sounds like dad.” Sam rolls his eyes. “Come on Dean, something happen?”
“Well, there was this chick...”
“Dean!”
“Jeez, Sammy. You're asking even more questions than when you were twelve.”
Dean doesn’t have to see Sam’s face to know it certainly look like he’s twelve, serious stubborn face, eyes shooting daggers.
“I don’t remember much Dean, except how it was weird how we just left. And if the Vrykolaka is still there it’s our responsibility, we have to stop it.”
“No, we don't,” he answers, sounding exactly like dad.
They both stare at each other for a while before Dean raises the biggest question of the day. “How can you possibly remember the name of that thing?”
Sam, however, just glares at him and says he's going to bed.
“You feel like talking?” Ellen says as she pours him another one. Dean just glares at her, hoping she'll get the point.
“Oh no, Dean. That look didn't work for your dad and it won't work for you.”
Denton, Georgia 1995
When Dean sees the sign that says they've arrived in Denton he almost jumps out of the car because he's so relieved.
It's been a long, long drive. Sure, they always have long drives, but this has been one of the worst.
Being the summer, John Winchester has, like usual, decided it means that they have the time to get to places far away. No need to think of school and stuff, just a whole summer of driving around and hunting.
Dean doesn't mind the hunting, not at all. It's the driving. Or no, it's the driving with Sam.
Sam's grown up in the car. He's used to it, way more used to it than other kids. Really, put most twelve year olds in a car for twelve hours straight and it won’t be pretty.
Sam is good at it. He mostly just.. reads. Or talks, and talks even more. But when they've been stuck in the car twelve hours a day for four days, in the middle of the summer in a very hot car - not pretty. Complaining because it's too warm, not being able to read because it's too hot, being carsick because of the heat, and hungry, and thirsty and bored and to Dean’s annoyance hardly sleeping at all due to non-functioning AC’s and weak fans in motel rooms, which means he's been cranky as well.
Not like Dean's been acting very great. To be honest it's not been just Sam. They've probably both been a pain in the ass, Dean thinks. Well…not probably. Dean's been warm and angry and hungry and thirsty and bored as well. And fighting with his brother.
Dean glances at his dad who looks tired and pissy, which is actually an improvement from earlier.
Nope, Dean can't say he enjoyed this trip.
It's been quiet the last twenty minutes. Dad had screamed at them that they better shut up or they could walk the last bit, and it worked.
It was only luck that dad didn't hear Sam mumble that anything would be better than staying in the car. Or maybe he pretended he didn't hear because he didn't feel like sending them out in an area close to the hunt when it's pitch black outside.
Dean spots a motel further up and decides it's safe to look back at his brother. Sam however is fast asleep, four days of exhaustion finally catching up with him. Dean is grateful because it was about time, but couldn't it have happened a few hours ago, or days, instead of right when they're at their destination? It would have meant at least a few hours of peace and quiet in the car.
Dad turns of the road and parks close to the check-in. Gives Dean a look that could mean either stay here without moving a muscle or wake your brother and grab our stuff. Dean decides to go with the first option while dad walks away and sticks his head out to catch some of the breeze in the warm summer night.
When dad comes back Dean steers a partly still sleeping Sam to their new home.
The room is sticky and warm with a very sad and old turned-off fan standing in the corner. Dean prays it will work.
He leads Sam to a bed who sit down on the side, scrunches his face, looking more miserable than ever and looks up at him “Deeean, it's too hot.”
Dean pats him on his knee and smiles. It's impossible to be angry at a half asleep Sam, especially when he actually got all right in the world to be complaining right now. The room is warmer than he could have imagined.
“I know, Sammy. It will be better soon, okay? I'll get the fan going and then it will be comfy in no time.”
Sam just nods tiredly and lays his head on the pillow, feet still dangling from the side of the bed, to watch Dean turn the fan on.
It takes some time and some curse words before the ancient once-upon-a-time-white fan start to spin with a loud whining noise.
Dean grins in victory and turns to his brother who seems to have missed his success and is instead once again sleeping.
“What the hell is that sound?” Dad walks in with some bags and closes the door behind him.
Dean points to the fan and dad sighs.
“Great.” Dad slides a hand across his face and actually gives Dean a tired small smile. “Alright Dean, get some sleep. I'll fix the protection.”
And Dean goes to the bed, picks Sam's legs up from the side and takes his shoes off before undressing himself and laying down on top of the blanket next to his brother.
It's a miracle and a proof of Dean’s own exhaustion that Dean falls asleep, with the light, Dad fixing, Sam's heavy breathing next to his ear and that damn whining noise.
But sleep he goes, for at least a few hours before Sam starts kicking, turning and muttering that it was both quieter and less hot in the car.
Dean agrees.
2007
“I don't expect you to share your soul with me Dean, but at least give me some heads up if another hunter will take the case.” Ellen rest her elbows on the counter and leans in to get closer to Dean.
“Ellen....I...” Dean looks down.
“If you need me to put this in the trash, I will.”
Dean looks up, surprised how she could read his inner thoughts. Psychic Ellen, who knew.
“Vrykolaka's are nasty things. If John Winchester left one alive, it must have been damn good reason too,” she says, rips the clipping apart and throws it in the trashcan.
“Now,” she says before Dean has the chance of thanking her. “You better go stop your brother from researching.”
Sure enough, when Dean comes into the little room they're staying at Sam might be pretending to be asleep, but the computer is flashing its lights like someone just closed it a minute earlier.
Dean glares at it for a moment before climbing into bed. And it doesn't take long before Sam starts talking.
“It was bad, wasn't it? Whatever happened?”
Dean rolls around, sees Sam's angsty form, sighs. “Yeah...”
“I don't really remember much. It gave me dreams, bad ones.That's all I remember. And the name of it.”
“Sam... “
“And I know those dreams it gave me haunted me years after, but the Vrykolaka was gone so there was no reason to be scared, but if it isn't...”
Dean sits up and walks towards his brother, sitting down on the edge of his bed. “If you think that we would have left if it was any danger for you-”
“I’m not scared of being in danger,” Sam says and sits up too. “But other people are, because we left the case open. Dean, we need to finish it off.”
“No. We're not going, Sam, and that's final.”
"You can't just tell me what to do.”
“No,” Dean says and looks into his brother’s eyes. If there ever was a time for him to do the puppy dog eyes, it's now. “But I can beg you to let this one go.“
“Dean…“
“Sam, look, I wouldn’t ask you to stay out of this if it wasn’t important. You must know that.“
Sam looks down at his feet, and Dean can almost hear his brain working.
“Fine, but you owe me an explanation.” Sam answers simply and lays down, kicking Dean with his feet.
Okay, that was easy. Hopefully not too easy.
“Fine, but not now.” He stands up and lay down on his own bed, finishing the conversation with a “Night, Sammy,” hopefully never talking about it again.
Except that he knows Sam. He sighs and rolls over, listening to his brothers quiet breathing. Remembering dad telling him Sam would find out one day, because secrets never stay secrets forever.
He thinks Sam has gone to sleep when his brother suddenly breaks the silence.
“Since when does Dean Winchester beg?”
“Since always, the ladies love it Sammy.”
Continue to Chapter 1, part 2