Taking his beer, John stormed up the stairs. When he entered the bedroom Bobby offered him, he took the time for look around for the first time. Double bed and an empty dresser. Sparse. Nothing outside of the furniture. Nothing to show that this was the ‘safe home’ Bobby claimed he shared with his boys. Curious, he wandered around the upstairs, hoping to find a clue to the men his sons had become. Entering the other bedroom, the one he’d assumed Dean would be ‘bunking’ with Sam in while he was there. One look and John knew Dean wasn’t bunking in there with his brother. This was their room. A couple pairs of shoes, obviously one belonging to Dean and one to Sam sat beside the door. A few items of two different size clothing were lying around the room. Two ratty, obviously unused duffels in the corner. Lived in. By two men. This was his sons’ room. As in both of them. And in the middle of it was one of the largest beds John had ever seen. A bed big enough to accommodate two large men. All John could do for a few minutes was stand there. What the fuck could he do about it? They were all, Bobby included- which really shocked him- acting like it was perfectly okay. ***********************************
The remaining three men in the kitchen let out a collective sigh when John headed upstairs. The brothers turned to Bobby for a moment, trying to get some inclination as to his mood. “Two of you…..” Finally, the older hunter sighed and sat down. After a long drink that drained half his bottle, he shrugged. “I figured you’d get the hint I knew.” “Yes, sir,” both men answered and the silence grew awkward. Finishing his beer, Sam sighed. “Research?”Bobby shrugged. “I got nothing. But I’ve spent most of my time dodging his questions. Wasn’t going to give him too much info. Just in case.” Standing, he stared at his boys. “Either way I’m not telling a story that ain’t mine to tell.”“Gonna have to sooner or later.” Sam’s voice was almost a whine.
“I say later.” Moving past his brother, Dean tapped him on the arm. “Got more important things to worry about than rehashing the past six years of our shitty lives.” ************************************
John finally headed downstairs to find the other three men engrossed in research- Bobby in the books, Sam on his laptop, and Dean thumbing through some files on the sofa. Looking up, Bobby decided to try to set a mood. “Feel free to grab a book.” John knew all three were gauging his reaction. Was he as interested in finding out what brought him back as they were or not? It grated on him to not be calling the shots, but if he gave Bobby any flack, it could start something with Sam or Dean that he hadn’t decided how to handle yet. “Where are you on it so far?” “I’m on my eyes crossing and I’m starving.” Standing, Dean started for the kitchen. “Sammy?” “In a minute. Got an idea I want to poke around.” “What kind of idea?” John’s tone was more of a demand than a question and Dean turned to him sharply. “He’ll tell us when he’s got it more pinpointed.” The tone doubled as a warning to not push. “Might need to run into town.” Dean knew that meant Sam was looking into spells, but he just nodded. One glance at Bobby told him the older hunter was on the same thought he was. John caught the shared glances between Bobby and his oldest, but he managed to keep his reaction neutral. With no idea what was going on in Sam’s head, there was no way for him to get a plan of action. And it got under his skin that he was apparently the odd man out with his sons. Even though he knew logically that, for them, he had been gone for six years and God only knew WHAT had happened in that time, for him it still felt like yesterday, and his role had suddenly been totally changed without him having had any say in it. Fidgeting, he turned to the door. “Gonna take a walk.” With a sigh, Sam got up and followed Dean into the kitchen. It wasn’t twenty minutes later John entered the kitchen, but the scene in front of him stopped him. Dean at the stove, Sam leaning casually against the counter next to him- almost near enough to be touching the length of their bodies- and Bobby sitting at the kitchen table with a beer. “Needs salt.” Bobby grumbled. “Back off, old man. I know what it needs.” Dean held the spoon up in a mock threatening gesture, but Sam grabbed his arm and shoved the spoon in his own mouth. “How about some of that sea salt?”“It’s healthy.” Bobby and Dean teased the youngest at the same time and they all three laughed. With a glare at his brother, Dean grabbed the salt out of the cabinet and dumped some in the pot. The casual banter along with the boys obviously knowing their way around Bobby’s kitchen brought it home to John. This was their home. They were comfortable here, and most likely had found a place they could relax. “Beer?” He realized Sam was holding out a beer in his direction. With a nod he took it and sat at the table with Bobby. A few minutes later, Sam handed out full bowls to everyone and they ate. It wasn’t exactly a relaxed environment, but it wasn’t hostile, either. John was desperate to ask the boys questions, but he knew from the way Dean had shot him down earlier regarding Sam’s ideas it wouldn’t be easy to get answers out of them. He hoped in their own time they’d finally tell him what the missing parts of their lives had been. So he’d tried to hide his aggravation and keep the conversation light. After dinner, as Bobby washed, Sam dried, and Dean ran commentary, John finished another beer and wandered outside. Glancing out the window, Sam turned to the other two men. “Dad’s in the yard.” His eyes met Bobby’s. “What has he said to you about what he remembers?” The older man shook his head. “He hasn’t been real talkative.” Sam snorted. “’Course not.” “Well,” before Dean could reply, Bobby continued. “I wasn’t doing a lot of sharing, either. ‘Side from the two of you were still alive, I wouldn’t tell him anything ‘bout either of you.” Realization crossed Sam’s face. “Thank you.” “Not my story to tell, son.” The youngest hunter’s eyes met his and Bobby mentally kicked himself for treating the freshly re-ensouled kid so badly that something so small as calling him son brought such a look of grateful relief to his eyes. “Gonna have to cross that one.” Dean watched the exchange silently, also grateful to Bobby for moving past his initial anger and mistrust of his brother. “Gonna have to hide the weapons first.” With a sigh, Sam opened another beer and sat down. “Got that right, Sammy. Daddy’s gonna skin you alive.” Lucifer’s voice whispered in his ear. “Good times.” The second the youngest Winchester’s body tensed and his eyes went to side Bobby looked over his shoulder to Dean. Responding to the alarm in Bobby’s eyes, Dean sat next to Sam and bumped his shoulder against the trembling body in the chair. “Sammy.” “Getting worse.” Taking a deep breath, Sam looked at the other two men and reached out to grip his brother’s wrist. “We need to deal with this now and get it over with.” Dean knew the way Sam thought their father was going to react to his actions was a large part of why his hallucinations were getting a stronger hold on him. “You’re saying we need to talk?” With a wry grin, Dean responded to Sam’s attempt to shake it off. “Gonna have to share and care, Sammy.” But his eyes met Bobby’s in silent understanding. If John even thought of reacting the way Sam was obviously terrified he would, one of them was going to kick his ass. Nodding, Bobby let Dean know they were on the same page. The youngest took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. “Now?” “You tell me.” “I’d rather wait till morning, if that’s okay.” His emotional state combined with being exhausted from the long drive was letting Lucifer get the upper hand and he wasn’t sure he could deal with it. “Done. Let’s grab the bags and head up.” Instinctively, Dean knew they were in for a bad night. John was back on the porch when they came out. Sam was looking shaky and Dean had his hand on the taller man’s shoulder. A thought of what that innocent looking touch would turn into the second they were upstairs grated on John. But he knew if he said a word about it, there would be hell to pay with all three men. As they grabbed their bags and headed back inside, they both turned to their father. “Gonna turn in. Long day.” Dean’s tone was neutral. “Thought we were gonna catch up.” John tried to sound the same, but his tone had an edge to it. “It can wait till tomorrow.” Nudging his brother, Dean headed inside before John could try to stop them. The last thing he wanted was for their father to see one of Sam’s episodes right now. Hearing the boys head upstairs, Bobby went to the door. “You look like a man that could use a drink.” “Let my guess; you’re buying as long as the conversation doesn’t include my sons.” With a shrug, Bobby headed for the cabinet where they stored the whiskey. “And people said you were thickheaded.” As much as he hated to give up on finding out what the hell had happened while he was gone, he had a feeling he was going to need Bobby as an ally when it came to the boys.***************************************
The house was silent. Bobby and John had stayed up an hour or so after the boys and put away a fair amount of liquor. The scream echoed through the house and sent John instantly to his feet and alert. The screams increased in volume and a crash made him run towards the sound. Without a second thought, he shoved the bedroom door open and stopped short. Sam was on the floor, curled up onto a ball, screaming. The older Winchester was sitting a couple feet away, begging him to come back. With no idea what the hell was going on, he understood Sam was in trouble. Even as he stepped into the room, Dean held his hand up to stop him without turning to him. “Stay back.” Before John could say a word, his oldest turned back. “Sammy, come on, kiddo. Snap out of it. I know you can. Come on; I’m right here.” Moving a little closer, he seemed to know that his brother was calming, even if it didn’t seem that way to John. Speechless, he watched Dean move closer, continuing to talk to Sam in a soft voice. “Dad, go downstairs. Anyone else just makes him worse.” Realizing he was being dismissed, it was on the tip of his tongue to argue, but he realized Dean knew exactly what was going on and how to handle it, even if he sounded like he was on the verge of tears. “Come on, kiddo. Just me. Just you and me, okay?” As the oldest Winchester finally backed out of the doorway, he saw Dean reach out slowly and touch his brother’s hand. “That’s it. Just me. We’re alone in here; you know that. Nobody else.” Forcing himself to move away, John headed downstairs, not entirely surprised to see Bobby standing at the bottom of the stairs, looking almost as wrecked as Dean had. “What’s wrong with him?” “Nightmares.” Bobby’s tone was neutral. Shaking his head, John headed for the fridge for a beer. “He’s always had nightmares. Nothing like that.” “You saw?” Turning, John leveled an incredulous stare at his friend. “My youngest is screaming like something is tearing him apart and my oldest is about to fall apart trying to get him to snap out of it. Of COURSE I went to see what was wrong!” “Sorry. ‘Course you did. I just….. I fucking hate to hear it. Worse to see it, I know.” Sitting down, he tried to block out the screams that were still carrying down the stairs. “Dean’ll get him back. He’ll always come back to him.” “From what?” For a moment, Bobby stared silently at John. “I can’t, John. Those boys trust me and I’m not going to betray that. Means too much to me.” He stared at his clasped hands on the table and shook his head. “I’m to goddamn tired for this.” Finally the screams stopped. Grabbing two bottles of water out of the fridge, Bobby headed for the stairs. John followed him from a short distance. Going up the stairs, Bobby went to the open door and hesitated. They were still on the floor, but Sam had his head in Dean’s lap and he was quiet. When he caught Dean’s eyes, he nodded and put the bottles down in the doorway before he backed away. He wasn’t surprised to see John standing a few feet away. “Come on. He’s back. They need quiet.” Nodding, John followed Bobby back downstairs. It was taking everything he had to not run back upstairs and check on his sons. “I know, John. You want to run back up there.” He took a drink straight from the bottle and handed it to John. “Tried it a couple times. Got my nose busted once, and set him off worse both times.” “But what is it? What happened to him?” Slamming the bottle on the table John sighed. “I know, you can’t tell me. How often does Dean have to handle this?” “Enough he knows the routine. It sucks- not fair to either of them, but the only way they’re gonna get through it is together.” “Together.” His tone annoyed Bobby. “I’ve had too much to drink and I’m too damn tired. So I’m gonna tell you this. Those boys have had heaven and hell on their asses. The first thing anything with half a brain does is try to split ‘em up to beat them.” Taking another drink, he stared at John. “So if heaven and hell couldn’t tear them apart, don’t make the mistake of thinking you can.” With even more questions now, John started to speak. “Goin’ to bed. Long fucking night.” He got to the door. “I’d give ‘em another twenty before you go back up. It’ll be quiet tomorrow. They’ll both be exhausted and quiet most of the day. Least I hope so.” With that he was gone. For another nineteen minutes, John listened to the quiet. When he couldn’t take it anymore, he climbed the stairs.
Unable to help himself, he moved to the boys’ bedroom door. It was dark except for the small light on the nightstand. He could barely make out their shapes. Dean was propped on a few pillows against the headboard, his arms holding Sam against his chest. John opened his mouth to speak, but Dean saw him and shook his head. Taking Dean's lead, John headed back to bed.
****************************************
Dean hadn't realized he'd fallen asleep at first. He could still feel the heat from Sam's body where he was wrapped around him. But suddenly the room was too bright- it happened so fast it was like daylight before he could react. Even as he tried to move his brother, a familiar voice stopped him."Good to see you, Dean."He knew who it was before they appeared. "Gabriel.""In the flesh, so to speak." With a shrug the archangel moved around the room and stood to face him. "Going to have to be fast. Using this kind of juice will attract too much attention. Need to talk to you and baby bro here.""So talk.""Not like this." Gabriel shook his head. "And I'm not about to get into his head. Don't want to scare him. Just scrape up one of those sigils on the door, and I'll be there." "For what?" "We have a common problem, Leviathans, a common goal, save Castiel, and we can help each other.""How about I meet you somewhere?" Dean didn't want to bring any archangel near his brother."No can do, bucko. Need to close the gate as soon as I'm through it. Stop me from being followed." He could see the hesitation in the hunter's eyes. "Look, I'll give it till the big guy has a chance to get it as together as he gets these days. But we have to talk."His eyes snapped open and Dean started to sit up. But his brother gripped him tighter and he stopped. Running his hand through that long hair, he thought about what he'd seen. Gabriel was dead. But so had all of them been before. Was he back, and did he really want to save Cas? The fact he hadn't invaded Sam's head to avoid hurting him gave a point. Dean knew he could debate it for days, but he was going to meet the archangel.
Chapter 4