FIC - What Now? 4/?
Oct. 30th, 2011 05:58 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
verucasalt123
title: What Now? 4/?
pairing: Sam/Dean
rating: R/NC-17 eventually, there will be Wincest at some point
summary: Pre-series. Sam ends up with a baby, and copes as long as he can on his own. Additional chapters will be added as they show up in my brain.
A/N: So I am finally getting around to at least the idea of some Wincest. Man, I hope y’all don’t give up on me, I promise I’m trying to move the story along. Again, thank you all for your kind words and wonderful feedback.
“No plans of going back? Really?” Dean responded, one eyebrow quirked up, and a wicked gleam in his eyes.
“Dean, don’t give me any shit, okay? It’s not practical. Just working and taking care of Jay on my own is almost more than I can handle, in case you couldn’t already tell since I fucking called you in a panic. I’m pathetic already, practically desperate, and clearly in way over my head. Adding in school is not an option. I doubt I could get my scholarship back, and even if I could, what would it matter? I have to work. Even if I took night classes, what would I do, leave Jay here alone? Conjure money from thin air to pay a babysitter at night? Take him to class with me?”
“Dude, okay, I’m not judging here. Chill. You think I don’t understand the difference between an ideal situation and a real situation? Who do you think you’re talking to?”
“All right. Let’s just take a break from this for a minute. You haven’t told me anything about you or Dad, what you’ve been doing. Catch me up. Please.”
Dean ran his hand over his face, sighed, and looked back up at his brother. “I’m still hunting. Dad’s still hunting. But we’re working solo. We don’t hunt together anymore.”
“How long has that been going on? I didn’t think it was really all that safe to hunt alone, Dean, I don’t get it.”
“After you left, Sam, things just were never the same between me and Dad. After a few months, we decided to split up. He has help when he needs it on hunts, and so do I. We both have people we can call if we have to.”
“So my leaving tore the two of you apart so badly that you’re both in more danger than you would have been otherwise? Awesome. Goddamnit. I’m so fucking”
“Shut up, Sam. What I hate is that you’ve been here all these months with Jay feeling like you couldn’t call us. Couldn’t call me. I’ve just been doing what I’m used to. You’ve been tossed into a whole new world completely on your own. I know you better than I know myself, Sam. That stubborn, independent streak of yours…hell, you had it by the time you were Jay’s age. Calling me and saying you weren’t okay on your own is a big deal. You’re trying to put on a show now, but when I first got here, you were telling me the truth. For you to admit that you can’t do this on your own, Jesus, you must have been completely end of the line. That’s what‘s important here.”
“My choices, though, Dean. All mine. I decided to leave. I decided to do…all of this. I won’t ever see Jay’s mother again, I’m sure, but the things I did to convince her to give me this baby…I could have let her have the abortion and gone on like nothing happened. This is all me. I thought I could do it, my stupid arrogant ass, and now I don’t know if I can, and on top of that, I’ve dragged you into it, which only proves I’m as selfish as I ever was.” Sam didn’t elaborate about any other reasons he might have had for wanting his brother back in his life.
“Yeah, right. Wanting something better for yourself than hunting was selfish. Sacrificing the education you worked your ass off for so that you could raise this baby was selfish. Sam. Listen to yourself. For Christ’s sake, try to see this from my point of view. Okay, it’s true, you’re stubborn. You came by that trait honestly. And I spoiled you fucking rotten as a kid, so maybe you’re used to having what you want. But this? What you’re doing now? This is what you’re supposed to do. Take responsibility for your actions. Call someone who loves you when you need help. That’s not selfish, you fucking moron, it’s normal. Isn’t that what you always told me you wanted? Normal?”
Sam hated himself for it, but he was crying again. His brother just said that he loved him. “This is so fucked up, Dean. I don’t know what to do. I’m afraid that I won’t be able to keep it up, won’t be able to take care of Jay like I should. Anytime now he’ll be able to push himself up and I won’t be able to keep him in that bassinet anymore. I have to buy a crib, and those are expensive. The baby books say you shouldn’t buy things like cribs second-hand. It might be dangerous.”
“There you go with the baby books again”, Dean replied with a grin. Then he sighed and his expression turned serious once more. “We can figure all of this out, man. I’ve got some ideas, we can talk about it tomorrow. And don’t think for a second we’re done talking about you going back to school. Can the bitchface, that conversation is not over. For now, let’s just try to get caught up.”
Dean got up and cracked open two more beers, handing one to Sam as he sat back down on the couch. “Last month, I decapitated a vampire with a circular saw. It was awesome.”
Sam laughed, really laughed, seeing the spark of pride in his brother’s eyes, feeling that satisfaction Dean always reveled in after a job well-done. “No way! Kick-ass, man. Remember the time we ran out of bullets and grenade-in-a-can’d that werewolf?”
“Hell yeah! I also remember you aced a calculus test the next morning. Monster-hunter by night, mathlete by day. You totally had the ultimate alter ego, Sammy, better than Bruce Wayne.”
“My life’s a little different now I guess,” Sam said, but without any sadness to the words. “Three weeks ago Jay projectile vomited all over the guy in front of us in line at the grocery store. It was the highlight of my day.”
“Hey, man, you’re out of hunting but still getting splattered with bodily fluids every time you turn around. Some things just don’t ever change, that’s for damn sure.” Dean held up his bottle and clinked it against Sam’s, a gesture that was familiar ever since Dean had given Sam his first beer when he was fifteen and had to have a gash in his shoulder stitched up after a salt and burn that didn’t turn out to be as uncomplicated as they thought it would.
For the next hour or so, they just traded stories, Sam telling Dean about the crazy Guatemalan dude he rode around with in the construction company’s truck between job sites, Dean regaling him with tales of narrowly escaping angry pool players when they realized they’d been hustled. It felt nice. Drinking beer, laughing, filling in the gaps until it almost felt like they hadn’t been separated from each other for years. Being together was just as comfortable as it had always been. Like it was the way they belonged. Sam knew it couldn’t last, but he wasn’t going to waste their time together thinking about the inevitable goodbye. He was going to soak it up, commit every second to memory, and appreciate however much time they had.
It seemed to him like Dean was just as relived as he was to be back in touch. Sam couldn’t sense any resentment or anger from his brother, just genuine affection, concern, and maybe something wistful, he couldn’t quite identify it. If he had to guess, it was probably the same as what Sam was feeling (at least in part), that they’d missed out on a lot of each other’s lives and didn’t want that to happen again.
Either way, the next day was Sunday, which meant another whole day for the three of them to be together. As Sam arranged his extra pillow and one spare set of sheets onto the couch for Dean, he thought maybe they’d take Jay to the park in the morning after breakfast. He mentally congratulated himself for picking up a box of instant pancake mix and a tiny bottle of fake syrup the last time he’d gone shopping. He wheeled Jay’s bassinet back into the bedroom and fixed a bottle that would surely be needed somewhere between 3 and 4am, putting it in the fridge and hoping he could get through the inevitable middle of the night feeding without disturbing his brother’s sleep.
“Dean. You need anything? Got enough, uh, covers and stuff?”
“Go to bed, Sam. I’m fine, I’ll see you in the morning.”
Sam settled into his bed, checking one last time on Jay, who was sleeping soundly. He then proceeded to will away the ridiculous instinct to cry himself to sleep with the idea of something he never thought he’d have again – seeing Dean in the morning.
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