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phantismaFandom: Supernatural, Keeper!Verse
Title: Losing Sam, Arc 3.2 (All Keeper Verse Here, including Arcs 1 & 2)
Rating: R
Word Count: 37,625 (total arc)
Pairings/Characters: Sam/Dean (long term established wincest), John, Dana (Dean's daughter) Missouri, OFC & OMC
Summary: Dean is out numbered...and Dana steps in.
A/Ns & Warnings: This story pics up after arc 2 as written by![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
shotofjack. It would never have happened without her. From the original concept to her beta, this fic owes a good amount to her. It isn't quite tomorrow here yet, but it will be soon...and I have no idea what time I'll crawl out of bed tomorrow, so I figured I'd post this first chapter now as a New Year's gift to Keeper fans. Expect a chapter a day until it is finished.
Dana stopped on the sidewalk, her eyes sweeping the front of the house, while she scanned it with other senses. Her father’s anger bled out through the windows. Sam was asleep on the couch.
Her father was in the garage. She changed her path and let herself in the side door to the garage. Dean was fighting with the weed whacker. Before she could speak up, he roared, bringing the whole thing down on his work bench, then using it to send stuff flying. He screamed, bashing the weed whacker against tools and clutter and whatever he could reach.
Dana threw up a blanket between them and the house, not wanting his temper tantrum to upset Sam. He turned suddenly, probably feeling his fury bounce back at him.
His face was contorted, anger unlike anything she’d ever seen from him. She backed off a step while he panted and threw the weed whacker to the ground. “It’s broken,” he said after a while.
She nodded. “I’ll say.”
He scratched at the back of his head and turned away. His anger reverberated around the garage. It wasn’t backing off. He wasn’t calming down. If anything he was just getting revved up.
“Dad…did something happen?” She took an experimental step forward, reaching out to check on Sam, but he seemed to still be asleep.
Dean picked up a box of engine parts that had managed to survive the weed whacker, staring into it for a while. Dana stepped even closer. “Is it about Sam?”
He whirled, his eyes shooting green fire that she would have felt without any psychic ability, and she ducked as the box of parts went flying, missing her by inches. “Okay…I’ll take that as a yes.”
She reached for him, but he shook his head, slamming out the door into the back yard. She followed, nearly plowing him over where he’d stopped dead in his tracks, staring.
No one had touched the yard since the day they found Sam laying there. The grass that remained was overgrown. The holes no longer smoldered, but the air still smelled vaguely of ozone and sulfur.
The sound of her father’s scream shook her, shook the trees and psychically rippled out for several miles. Even the dampening blanket didn’t stop it. Sam was awake.
Dean doubled over, beating his fists against his legs as he screamed, pouring out his fury and pain. He was going to start hurting himself soon, and he was already pressing against Dana’s nerves. She wrapped her arms around him and reached inside, not really connecting with him, just looking for the tiny little button that would—there! He went limp in her arms, unconscious.
“Dana?” Sam sat up, looking around. He could feel her between him and Dean. He felt Dean go quiet, then the back door opened and Dana came in, closed off and concentrating. She got almost to the stairs before he saw why. Dean floated a foot or so off the ground, out.
She settled him to the floor at the base of the stairs and exhaled slowly. “What set him off like that?” she asked, her eyes running over Sam as if making sure he was okay.
“He’s angry.”
“No shit.” Dana shook her head and stepped over her father, joining Sam on the couch. “He tore the garage up. He was trying to blow the backyard into the Sampson’s house with just his voice. I’d say angry is a mild description.”
Sam sighed and reached for her hand, reaching for her mentally. I need to go away for a while, and he doesn’t want me to go.
He felt her stiffen, felt fear race across her thoughts before she brought it under control. Go where?
Sam showed her what Missouri had shown him. “They can help.” He felt her poking around a little and let her. He knew she’d understand. She could see the damage that was still there, could see beyond the things that seemed to blind Dean.
“He can’t go with you.” Dana said a little breathlessly, understanding dawning on her.
Sam nodded dropping his eyes. “He…got so mad. But Missouri’s right, Dana. I rely on him too much. And look what it’s doing to him. He doesn’t sleep. He barely eats…and he thinks he’s hiding it, but he hurts. His whole body aches.” He sighed and looked over her shoulder to Dean on the floor. “I’m doing that to him, and so help me, I can’t stop taking when he offers it. I…want him…”
She put a hand on his and wrapped her mind around his in a hug. “He’ll understand Sam. Not now…maybe not for a while. But he will.”
“I love him so much. I can’t stand it if he hates me.”
Dana smiled and shook her head. “He doesn’t hate you, Sam. Could never hate you. You know that.”
Sam nodded. “You should probably get him upstairs and more comfortable. Might want to back it up with a sedative so he’ll sleep for a while.”
“I’ll get him settled in and then I’ll start dinner. You need anything?”
Sam shook his head. “I think I’ll doze some more. The work with Missouri wore me out.”
Dana got her father settled into bed and headed into her own room to change. She pulled out her phone and called Missouri. “Sam told me what you have planned,” she said without any preamble.
“I think it’s best.” Missouri said. She sounded tired.
“What do you need?”
“He’ll need some basics, like any trip. And I’ll need a few personal things…stuff that’s uniquely Sam.”
“I can do that.” She chewed on her lip. “My father can’t come. What about me?”
Missouri sighed. “Darling, you’ll be starting school before Sam’s even close to ready to come home.”
“This is going to take that long?” No wonder her father was furious.
“Your uncle Sam needs time to heal and space to do it in. He can’t be worried about you or your father while he deals with that kind of pain.”
“What about protection?”
“He’ll be safe, Dana. I give you my word.”
“When?”
“Tomorrow morning. I’ll be there by nine.”
That didn’t give her much time. “I’ll be here to help you get him in the car.”
She hung up and dialed her Papa. “Has your father calmed down yet?” he asked in way of hello.
“So I take it you know what’s going on?” She pulled her hair out of its pony tail and sighed. “He’s really angry, Papa. I’ve never seen him like that.”
She could hear him sigh. “Sam thinks he has to do this.” Dana said.
“I know. We talked about it. You need me to come over?”
She didn’t like to admit it, but she didn’t think she could handle both of them alone. “I’ll put the lasagna in the oven.”
“I’ll close up the garage and be over when I’m done.”
She’d taken a good look inside Sam’s head, and she couldn’t say she was happy with what she saw. There was evidence of what he and Missouri had done earlier in the day. But other areas, where there had been healing and progress, were messy with ragged edges and holes…walls that she had helped him build were sagging and it was almost as if he didn’t notice.
Neither she nor Missouri were affecting any long term repair. They were missing something. She raked a brush through her hair and headed downstairs to start dinner and check on Sam. Remmy was whining at her father’s door as she reached it, scratching on it and whining.
“He needs to sleep. Go lay with Sam.” Below her, Aristotle raised her head and put it possessively on Sam’s legs. Dana scooped Remmy up and he immediately started squirming, his little butt pushing out of her arms until she was forced to let him down. He went right back to scratching and whining. She opened the door and he raced like a little brown blur to the bed, jumping and clawing until he’d managed to get on top. Then he circled three times before laying in a tight little ball at her father’s side.
She watched her father sleep, looked at him. His face was pale. He was thin. Dark circles smudged under his eyes. She scanned over him, feeling for something more serious. Sam was right, he was worn…close to breaking, maybe even more than the day he’d let Sam nearly suck him dry.
He was tense, even in sleep. Struggling. He was fighting the drugs, she realized belatedly. Her touch had worn off and he was fighting his way up. She moved to sit on the bed, reaching out a little more firmly. Their connection was never what hers was with Sam, but she got it established and put herself in his head, pushing him back toward sleep firmly.
Sam. Need to get to Sam. He pushed against her.
Sam is fine. You need to rest.
She got a blast of his anger again and pulled back. And if you don’t stop that, I won’t let you near him. He can’t handle that.
The drug was pulling on him and it wouldn’t take much to pull him back under. He’s leaving in the morning, do you want him to go without getting to say goodbye?
Dean ripped himself up from under the influence of the drug, sitting up and reaching physically for her. She grabbed him to keep him from falling out of the bed. “Dad, stop.”
“Let meyup.” His words slurred and his eyes didn’t focus.
“I will put you down again.”
He tried to look at her, swayed a little and held on to her. “Don’t want him to go.”
She nodded, brushed against him mentally. “I know Dad. I know. But I think it’s best.”
She felt the anger swelling again and fingered the trigger that would knock him back out. Need you to calm down.
He sagged a little. She helped him lay back down. “I’m going to make dinner. Papa’s coming. We’ll eat and have a nice evening together. You’ll keep this under wraps. Sam’s hurting enough, he doesn’t need you ripping new holes in his head with this.”
Dean looked shocked at the thought. He shook his head. “Don’t hurt Sam.”
“He’s hurting, Dad. This isn’t helping. Now, do I need to put you down, or are you going to sleep?”
Remmy shifted so that he was in the circle of Dean’s arm, his head on Dean’s shoulder. “Sleep.” Dean said, his eyes closing.
“Good. I’ll come get you when dinner’s ready.” She kissed his forehead and left him to sleep, pausing at the top of the stairs and throwing out a dampening blanket to keep her boys separated while they worked out what was going on.
Dana heard the front door and poked her head out of the kitchen, beckoning her Papa as quietly as she could. He paused at the couch, leaning over to check Sam before joining her. He kissed her forehead and she wanted to lean into him, but didn’t.
“Dinner should be ready soon.”
“Where’s your father?”
Dana huffed and turned to the oven. “Sleeping.”
“Dana.”
She rolled her eyes. “I…sort of…put him down. He was going to explode. Then I drugged him to keep him down.” She looked up at him. “He scared me Papa. He’s never scared me before.”
“You want me to go get him?”
She nodded. “Yes, but not yet. I need to talk to you.”
John crossed his arms and leaned against the counter. “Go on then.”
The last two hours had seen her doing things she didn’t like, but this was her family and she was going to take care of them. All of them.
“Sam explained, sort of. What he could. I read some of what Missouri gave him, but even that is starting to break down all ready. So I talked to her, then I did a deep reading on Sam.” She dared a look at him. So far he didn’t seem angry. “I did some research on the place, and the people. Actually called and talked to one of them.”
“And?” John prodded when she paused.
“I think Sam’s right. But I think Dad’s kind of right too. I don’t like the idea of Sam so far away without one of us there.”
“Missouri said he had to go alone.” John countered.
“There’s a campground, it’s rough, but doable. Not up close to where Sam will be, but close enough. A good hunter could keep an eye on him and not get in the way.”
John shook his head. “Dean’s in no condition—“
She raised her hand. “I agree. He needs about three weeks of sleep and food and more sleep before he’d even come close…and Sam’s already told me he can’t stop on his own.”
John frowned at her. “Can’t stop what?”
“Dad gives him…energy…little shots of energy. He’s only supposed to do it for a minute and only first thing in the morning, but he does it off and on all day. Whenever Sam looks like he needs it…and Sam said he can’t help but take it, because he needs it and he wants it and it’s kind of like an addiction.”
“So what is it you’re suggesting?” John asked.
“You and me. We can take turns. I can mask my presence so he won’t even know I’m there. Your psychic signature is already pretty light.”
“And what does Missouri think of this plan?”
She shrugged. “Didn’t plan on telling her.”
She watched him process the information. She felt Sam waking up. “We can talk about it later. For now, let’s get dinner on the table. Get Dad up, and remind him to play nice. I’ll help Sam.”
John opened the door to Dean’s room. Dean opened his eyes as if he’d just been waiting for someone to show up. Remmy licked at his face, then burrowed under the pillow.
“You look like shit.” John said.
“Dana dropped me.” Dean said, sitting up. “Left me with a fucking headache.”
“From what I hear you needed it.”
“She send you up here to lecture me?”
“No, she sent me up to get you for dinner…if you think you can handle that without blowing up.”
“It isn’t right. Sending him off alone.” Dean sat up, turning to put his feet on the floor.
“It’s what Sam wants. Maybe what Sam needs.” John countered, crossing to support Dean as he stood up.
Dean shook his head. “He needs me Dad.”
“I know he does Dean. Maybe he needs you just a little too much.”
Dean pulled his arm away. “What is that supposed to mean?”
John sighed and shook his head. “Have you seen yourself lately? I mean really looked at yourself?”
“I’m fine.” Dean said. He wavered a little on his feet, then sat down again. “I’m fine.”
John snorted. “Yeah, right.”
“Fuck you.”
“Are you going to come down and eat?”
Dean stared at the carpet, fuming. John watched him slowly pull it all inside, watched him take a deep breath and pull a calm expression over his face. “Fine.” He stood again, and let John support him down the stairs. By the time they got to the bottom, Dana had dinner on the table and Sam was in his seat.
Dean slipped quietly into his, squeezing Sam’s hand lightly. Sam seemed to relax, sighing softly. Dean’s face relaxed as well. Dana slipped into her chair and John took his customary place. “It looks good Dana.”
It was a quiet dinner, with Dean and Sam largely engaged in private and silent communion, Dana watching them and fretting and John trying to decide what to do.
“Papa, I promised Missouri I would get Sam packed up. Could you bring his suitcase in from the garage for me?” Dana asked softly as she rose to clear the table.
Dean stiffened, and Sam reached for him, pulling him in close and whispering to him. John nodded and stood. It was going to be a long night in the Winchester household.
PS: I'm posting tonight because I start my new job tomorrow, and I figured it was easier to do it tonight than run out of getting ready time in the morning and leaving ya'll hanging until I get home.
Title: Losing Sam, Arc 3.2 (All Keeper Verse Here, including Arcs 1 & 2)
Rating: R
Word Count: 37,625 (total arc)
Pairings/Characters: Sam/Dean (long term established wincest), John, Dana (Dean's daughter) Missouri, OFC & OMC
Summary: Dean is out numbered...and Dana steps in.
A/Ns & Warnings: This story pics up after arc 2 as written by
shotofjack. It would never have happened without her. From the original concept to her beta, this fic owes a good amount to her. It isn't quite tomorrow here yet, but it will be soon...and I have no idea what time I'll crawl out of bed tomorrow, so I figured I'd post this first chapter now as a New Year's gift to Keeper fans. Expect a chapter a day until it is finished.Dana stopped on the sidewalk, her eyes sweeping the front of the house, while she scanned it with other senses. Her father’s anger bled out through the windows. Sam was asleep on the couch.
Her father was in the garage. She changed her path and let herself in the side door to the garage. Dean was fighting with the weed whacker. Before she could speak up, he roared, bringing the whole thing down on his work bench, then using it to send stuff flying. He screamed, bashing the weed whacker against tools and clutter and whatever he could reach.
Dana threw up a blanket between them and the house, not wanting his temper tantrum to upset Sam. He turned suddenly, probably feeling his fury bounce back at him.
His face was contorted, anger unlike anything she’d ever seen from him. She backed off a step while he panted and threw the weed whacker to the ground. “It’s broken,” he said after a while.
She nodded. “I’ll say.”
He scratched at the back of his head and turned away. His anger reverberated around the garage. It wasn’t backing off. He wasn’t calming down. If anything he was just getting revved up.
“Dad…did something happen?” She took an experimental step forward, reaching out to check on Sam, but he seemed to still be asleep.
Dean picked up a box of engine parts that had managed to survive the weed whacker, staring into it for a while. Dana stepped even closer. “Is it about Sam?”
He whirled, his eyes shooting green fire that she would have felt without any psychic ability, and she ducked as the box of parts went flying, missing her by inches. “Okay…I’ll take that as a yes.”
She reached for him, but he shook his head, slamming out the door into the back yard. She followed, nearly plowing him over where he’d stopped dead in his tracks, staring.
No one had touched the yard since the day they found Sam laying there. The grass that remained was overgrown. The holes no longer smoldered, but the air still smelled vaguely of ozone and sulfur.
The sound of her father’s scream shook her, shook the trees and psychically rippled out for several miles. Even the dampening blanket didn’t stop it. Sam was awake.
Dean doubled over, beating his fists against his legs as he screamed, pouring out his fury and pain. He was going to start hurting himself soon, and he was already pressing against Dana’s nerves. She wrapped her arms around him and reached inside, not really connecting with him, just looking for the tiny little button that would—there! He went limp in her arms, unconscious.
“Dana?” Sam sat up, looking around. He could feel her between him and Dean. He felt Dean go quiet, then the back door opened and Dana came in, closed off and concentrating. She got almost to the stairs before he saw why. Dean floated a foot or so off the ground, out.
She settled him to the floor at the base of the stairs and exhaled slowly. “What set him off like that?” she asked, her eyes running over Sam as if making sure he was okay.
“He’s angry.”
“No shit.” Dana shook her head and stepped over her father, joining Sam on the couch. “He tore the garage up. He was trying to blow the backyard into the Sampson’s house with just his voice. I’d say angry is a mild description.”
Sam sighed and reached for her hand, reaching for her mentally. I need to go away for a while, and he doesn’t want me to go.
He felt her stiffen, felt fear race across her thoughts before she brought it under control. Go where?
Sam showed her what Missouri had shown him. “They can help.” He felt her poking around a little and let her. He knew she’d understand. She could see the damage that was still there, could see beyond the things that seemed to blind Dean.
“He can’t go with you.” Dana said a little breathlessly, understanding dawning on her.
Sam nodded dropping his eyes. “He…got so mad. But Missouri’s right, Dana. I rely on him too much. And look what it’s doing to him. He doesn’t sleep. He barely eats…and he thinks he’s hiding it, but he hurts. His whole body aches.” He sighed and looked over her shoulder to Dean on the floor. “I’m doing that to him, and so help me, I can’t stop taking when he offers it. I…want him…”
She put a hand on his and wrapped her mind around his in a hug. “He’ll understand Sam. Not now…maybe not for a while. But he will.”
“I love him so much. I can’t stand it if he hates me.”
Dana smiled and shook her head. “He doesn’t hate you, Sam. Could never hate you. You know that.”
Sam nodded. “You should probably get him upstairs and more comfortable. Might want to back it up with a sedative so he’ll sleep for a while.”
“I’ll get him settled in and then I’ll start dinner. You need anything?”
Sam shook his head. “I think I’ll doze some more. The work with Missouri wore me out.”
Dana got her father settled into bed and headed into her own room to change. She pulled out her phone and called Missouri. “Sam told me what you have planned,” she said without any preamble.
“I think it’s best.” Missouri said. She sounded tired.
“What do you need?”
“He’ll need some basics, like any trip. And I’ll need a few personal things…stuff that’s uniquely Sam.”
“I can do that.” She chewed on her lip. “My father can’t come. What about me?”
Missouri sighed. “Darling, you’ll be starting school before Sam’s even close to ready to come home.”
“This is going to take that long?” No wonder her father was furious.
“Your uncle Sam needs time to heal and space to do it in. He can’t be worried about you or your father while he deals with that kind of pain.”
“What about protection?”
“He’ll be safe, Dana. I give you my word.”
“When?”
“Tomorrow morning. I’ll be there by nine.”
That didn’t give her much time. “I’ll be here to help you get him in the car.”
She hung up and dialed her Papa. “Has your father calmed down yet?” he asked in way of hello.
“So I take it you know what’s going on?” She pulled her hair out of its pony tail and sighed. “He’s really angry, Papa. I’ve never seen him like that.”
She could hear him sigh. “Sam thinks he has to do this.” Dana said.
“I know. We talked about it. You need me to come over?”
She didn’t like to admit it, but she didn’t think she could handle both of them alone. “I’ll put the lasagna in the oven.”
“I’ll close up the garage and be over when I’m done.”
She’d taken a good look inside Sam’s head, and she couldn’t say she was happy with what she saw. There was evidence of what he and Missouri had done earlier in the day. But other areas, where there had been healing and progress, were messy with ragged edges and holes…walls that she had helped him build were sagging and it was almost as if he didn’t notice.
Neither she nor Missouri were affecting any long term repair. They were missing something. She raked a brush through her hair and headed downstairs to start dinner and check on Sam. Remmy was whining at her father’s door as she reached it, scratching on it and whining.
“He needs to sleep. Go lay with Sam.” Below her, Aristotle raised her head and put it possessively on Sam’s legs. Dana scooped Remmy up and he immediately started squirming, his little butt pushing out of her arms until she was forced to let him down. He went right back to scratching and whining. She opened the door and he raced like a little brown blur to the bed, jumping and clawing until he’d managed to get on top. Then he circled three times before laying in a tight little ball at her father’s side.
She watched her father sleep, looked at him. His face was pale. He was thin. Dark circles smudged under his eyes. She scanned over him, feeling for something more serious. Sam was right, he was worn…close to breaking, maybe even more than the day he’d let Sam nearly suck him dry.
He was tense, even in sleep. Struggling. He was fighting the drugs, she realized belatedly. Her touch had worn off and he was fighting his way up. She moved to sit on the bed, reaching out a little more firmly. Their connection was never what hers was with Sam, but she got it established and put herself in his head, pushing him back toward sleep firmly.
Sam. Need to get to Sam. He pushed against her.
Sam is fine. You need to rest.
She got a blast of his anger again and pulled back. And if you don’t stop that, I won’t let you near him. He can’t handle that.
The drug was pulling on him and it wouldn’t take much to pull him back under. He’s leaving in the morning, do you want him to go without getting to say goodbye?
Dean ripped himself up from under the influence of the drug, sitting up and reaching physically for her. She grabbed him to keep him from falling out of the bed. “Dad, stop.”
“Let meyup.” His words slurred and his eyes didn’t focus.
“I will put you down again.”
He tried to look at her, swayed a little and held on to her. “Don’t want him to go.”
She nodded, brushed against him mentally. “I know Dad. I know. But I think it’s best.”
She felt the anger swelling again and fingered the trigger that would knock him back out. Need you to calm down.
He sagged a little. She helped him lay back down. “I’m going to make dinner. Papa’s coming. We’ll eat and have a nice evening together. You’ll keep this under wraps. Sam’s hurting enough, he doesn’t need you ripping new holes in his head with this.”
Dean looked shocked at the thought. He shook his head. “Don’t hurt Sam.”
“He’s hurting, Dad. This isn’t helping. Now, do I need to put you down, or are you going to sleep?”
Remmy shifted so that he was in the circle of Dean’s arm, his head on Dean’s shoulder. “Sleep.” Dean said, his eyes closing.
“Good. I’ll come get you when dinner’s ready.” She kissed his forehead and left him to sleep, pausing at the top of the stairs and throwing out a dampening blanket to keep her boys separated while they worked out what was going on.
Dana heard the front door and poked her head out of the kitchen, beckoning her Papa as quietly as she could. He paused at the couch, leaning over to check Sam before joining her. He kissed her forehead and she wanted to lean into him, but didn’t.
“Dinner should be ready soon.”
“Where’s your father?”
Dana huffed and turned to the oven. “Sleeping.”
“Dana.”
She rolled her eyes. “I…sort of…put him down. He was going to explode. Then I drugged him to keep him down.” She looked up at him. “He scared me Papa. He’s never scared me before.”
“You want me to go get him?”
She nodded. “Yes, but not yet. I need to talk to you.”
John crossed his arms and leaned against the counter. “Go on then.”
The last two hours had seen her doing things she didn’t like, but this was her family and she was going to take care of them. All of them.
“Sam explained, sort of. What he could. I read some of what Missouri gave him, but even that is starting to break down all ready. So I talked to her, then I did a deep reading on Sam.” She dared a look at him. So far he didn’t seem angry. “I did some research on the place, and the people. Actually called and talked to one of them.”
“And?” John prodded when she paused.
“I think Sam’s right. But I think Dad’s kind of right too. I don’t like the idea of Sam so far away without one of us there.”
“Missouri said he had to go alone.” John countered.
“There’s a campground, it’s rough, but doable. Not up close to where Sam will be, but close enough. A good hunter could keep an eye on him and not get in the way.”
John shook his head. “Dean’s in no condition—“
She raised her hand. “I agree. He needs about three weeks of sleep and food and more sleep before he’d even come close…and Sam’s already told me he can’t stop on his own.”
John frowned at her. “Can’t stop what?”
“Dad gives him…energy…little shots of energy. He’s only supposed to do it for a minute and only first thing in the morning, but he does it off and on all day. Whenever Sam looks like he needs it…and Sam said he can’t help but take it, because he needs it and he wants it and it’s kind of like an addiction.”
“So what is it you’re suggesting?” John asked.
“You and me. We can take turns. I can mask my presence so he won’t even know I’m there. Your psychic signature is already pretty light.”
“And what does Missouri think of this plan?”
She shrugged. “Didn’t plan on telling her.”
She watched him process the information. She felt Sam waking up. “We can talk about it later. For now, let’s get dinner on the table. Get Dad up, and remind him to play nice. I’ll help Sam.”
John opened the door to Dean’s room. Dean opened his eyes as if he’d just been waiting for someone to show up. Remmy licked at his face, then burrowed under the pillow.
“You look like shit.” John said.
“Dana dropped me.” Dean said, sitting up. “Left me with a fucking headache.”
“From what I hear you needed it.”
“She send you up here to lecture me?”
“No, she sent me up to get you for dinner…if you think you can handle that without blowing up.”
“It isn’t right. Sending him off alone.” Dean sat up, turning to put his feet on the floor.
“It’s what Sam wants. Maybe what Sam needs.” John countered, crossing to support Dean as he stood up.
Dean shook his head. “He needs me Dad.”
“I know he does Dean. Maybe he needs you just a little too much.”
Dean pulled his arm away. “What is that supposed to mean?”
John sighed and shook his head. “Have you seen yourself lately? I mean really looked at yourself?”
“I’m fine.” Dean said. He wavered a little on his feet, then sat down again. “I’m fine.”
John snorted. “Yeah, right.”
“Fuck you.”
“Are you going to come down and eat?”
Dean stared at the carpet, fuming. John watched him slowly pull it all inside, watched him take a deep breath and pull a calm expression over his face. “Fine.” He stood again, and let John support him down the stairs. By the time they got to the bottom, Dana had dinner on the table and Sam was in his seat.
Dean slipped quietly into his, squeezing Sam’s hand lightly. Sam seemed to relax, sighing softly. Dean’s face relaxed as well. Dana slipped into her chair and John took his customary place. “It looks good Dana.”
It was a quiet dinner, with Dean and Sam largely engaged in private and silent communion, Dana watching them and fretting and John trying to decide what to do.
“Papa, I promised Missouri I would get Sam packed up. Could you bring his suitcase in from the garage for me?” Dana asked softly as she rose to clear the table.
Dean stiffened, and Sam reached for him, pulling him in close and whispering to him. John nodded and stood. It was going to be a long night in the Winchester household.
PS: I'm posting tonight because I start my new job tomorrow, and I figured it was easier to do it tonight than run out of getting ready time in the morning and leaving ya'll hanging until I get home.
