Title: Dead and Gone
Pairing: kind of Sam/Dean. Of the implied variety. If you squint.
Spoilers: Totally for All Hell Breaks Loose Part I. If you don't know what happened at the end of that, you might not want to read this.
Disclaimer: For me to play with? Yes? If you recognize anyone in this, then they aren't mine. I wish they were. Kripke, wanna split them fifty/fifty? Please?? Anyway, I not making any $$. Please not sue?
A/N: Very not beta'd. Sorry. hangs head in shame
In our line of work death is fairly commonplace. I don't mean to downplay it. And I don't mean to make is sound like it don't mean nothin' when it happens. But you got to understand – we lose people who're close to us all the time. Some of us more'n others.
You also haveta understand that I've always had a soft spot for the Winchester boys. I met their dad, probably two years into his huntin'. Someone or another had pointed John Winchester in my direction and I told him a bit of what he needed to know. There was something about him, earnest and serious and yet something still of innocence to him. Maybe it was the boys, clingin' to him like leeches and makin' him seem like he was more'n an old soldier in an old war.
Sam 'n Dean were so young then. Dean was already developin' his dad's seriousness and Sam was the happiest baby'd you'd ever seen. The kid would gurgle and be a kid as long as his brother was nearby but if you took Dean outta the equation, well then that Sam'd raise holy hell.
They probably reminded me of what I'd lost, which is why it's so damn hard to see Dean like this. I had a son, once. My kid, he wasn't a good kid but the shit he was into wasn't as bad as all that. Enough to give me my fair share of grey hairs. Then one day he didn't come home no more. After sixteen months of waitin' and hopin' the law showed up with the sorry news that my boy was gone. Three weeks later, my marriage ended. I won't lie, I got caught up in my own grief and wasn't too sorry to see the missus go. I miss her now, though. Sometimes. It's probably best she's gone though, she never would hold truck with what I mess with on occasion.
Turns out my boy got mixed up with the wrong people. He was just good enough to have been left outta most of it, except for that last time. They were callin' up minor ghosts and ghoulies and tryin' to use 'em to scare the panties offa the local girls. It worked some, then they got somethin' they couldn't handle. Six boys dead in a night and my boy was one of 'em.
So I got my start. John's start was with the death of his wife. He showed me some pictures of her, she was a pretty thing. You can see some of her in Dean and the tilt of her eyes in Sam. At least, that's what John kept tellin' me. "Bobby," he'd say, "Bobby, I'm so damn lucky to have this much of her left." I always tended to brush it off as the booze talkin'; John wasn't the kind of man to bare his heart like that.
I've been blind with the Winchesters, I know I have. I treated the boys like they was my own flesh and blood. When John passed, it was hard. Seen the older boy mopin' and goin' silent like he had when his momma had died. Seein' the younger pinin' for the brother he knew and the father he'd lost. I had an idea then that things weren't quite right. Probably knew before then, those boys always were inseparable.
Now we're here. Sam's dead. Gone an' cold an' been that way for three days. Dean ain't ready to let go of him just yet an' I don't know how to say he needs to without having that Winchester temper turned on me. I don't mean it to be rude, but how do you tell someone it's time that they buried the most important person in their life?
Dean's mopin'… it's worse than anything I've ever seen. You'd think he was mournin' for a spouse. As soon as I think it my mind trips over the word. I slip back in time to that Trickster case, tellin' them they're like an old married couple. Here I thought I was jokin'. Damn. Oh, damn. Dean ain't never gonna take a suggestion about buryin' Sam. Not now, not ever. I have to try it, though.
I try plyin' the bastard with food. I made sure we had plenty of strong whisky. And when I finally screw up the courage to say somethin' Dean threw me out. Outta that dirty, dusty shack in Cold Oak; a place that's already too haunted. I knew he wasn't gonna take it well.
Unfortunatly, I know their history better than anyone. I know that Dean ain't gonna take this lyin' down. He's gonna try to get his brother back. His Sam. While his tears didn't break me, the sure weight of knowledge is pressin' me down. I leave. I pack up my stuff and head out on foot. Dean'll need the Impala, he's got further to travel than I do.
Is it wrong of me to want him to fail? I don't know which scares me more, the idea that those boy's'll never come 'round my place again. In which case, one day I'm gonna have to make a trip back down here to take care of two corpses. Serious waste, that.
But what chills me to the bones is the idea that one day I'll open my door to the Winchesters again. Dean'll knock on my door and sure as rain I'll let him and Sam through my door again. Both of 'em smilin' like nothin' has ever happened. Like I haven't seen Sam dead 'n gone.