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A little AU ficlet set around Home and Faith.


He looks at her over the car bonnet as she sits with his bother dispensing little pez pieces of wisdom for Sammy to gobble up with faithful amen’s not seeing in all his ‘seeing’ that the so precious words have already melted away in sugary nothing. He took her high handed crap and faux Mrs Mama routine cause Sammy was walking a fraying high wire and what Sammy needs Sammy gets even if it is half truths and ‘we’re in the club wink wink nudge nudge’ were not gonna pick you for our team today Dean tactics.
He had her number from the minute that poor schmuk with the straying wife walked out the door, one grifter knows another and she could see enough to see that.
So he played the slapstick and let her get on with the verbal dodge ball that seemed to take the load of Sammy’s shoulders for a while. Sammy always hated to be the last kid picked on the schoolyard games. Dean prefers the shadows to the lime light he had quite enough light at the age of four, running down the stairs the negative image of his mother etched on the back of his eyelids in permanent ink scrunching his thin back over the bemused bundle in his arms hearing the hunger and heat and terrible terrible snarling laughing light that gnashed in fury as it tried to breach the shade and shield he provided his bother.
Sammy never needed perfect grades or college tassels or stamped entry into the psychic’s network for Dean to know he was special, Dean knew that from the morning his mother woke him with that glow in her eye and the whisper of secret that became a bump and then a new brother.
He just doesn’t have time for this shit.
He may not be the smartest tool in the box or even the best solder, his material loves are weapons a journal and bad music all wrapped in a car that rattles if he slams the door too hard. And every one of those things is second hand. Each and every item thrown away by his dad or a stranger for him to pick up, shake out and pretend that he chose them first
The only time he truly came first was from the womb, that gift given by his mother and even then he knows deep down that he was the practice run, the buffer between Sammy and the world, then the buffer between Sammy and his Dad.
[Honour thy Father and Mother]
He doesn’t mind his place, he works hard to do the best he can with the role he’s given, works hard to learn the Latin and master the weapons required for his dads crusade, works even harder to make sure Sammy gets the right lunch food and clothes so the other kids won’t laugh even if it means that for much of his teenage years he looked like a hick clown. He created the confidence and repitare of cool rebel so that he’s Sammy’s cool older bother rather than an embarrassment and another stumbling block in Sammy’s never ending crusade for the normal that was just as fierce and obsessive as Johns journey into the abnormal.
He may be an amateur in needing his home made EMF reader that he used to be so proud of but now shields with his hand because he knows it embarrasses his brother, he may not get the pre cog dreams or visions, and he may still stick strange herbs into his mouth to taste, but Dean knows when he’s been strung a line, he knows a half truth or a distraction even if it is delivered in a breathy ‘this house is clean’ carnival gypsy voice and he knows when John Winchester is near by.
He is the EMF reader for his family, his intuition for their needs and proximity was honed sharp as his bowie over a thousand hunts and kitchen wars, he is the family negotiator, the diplomat, the physical, emotional and spiritual buffer between his father and brother, but buffers wear thin and eventually the kid has to kick the stabilizers of the bike.
He has spent the last six months getting Sammy through the Winchester revision boot camp, training his body and mind back into the set required for the hunt. Teaching him how to work as one of a pair smoothing his grief. He has made himself into a mimic of his father so that when the time comes for Sammy and John to end this crusade the transition will be as smooth as possible.
He watches as she gets off the front step of their old house and finally looks him in the eye opening her mouth to admonish him to look after his brother. He watches as Sammy says goodbye to the nice lady they drove hundreds of miles to save [oh shit we’re in Kansas again] He smirks as she finally really looks at him and he realizes that he may have managed to render the woman blessedly speechless. The pallor the fake tan that he has perfected over two years hides, the small wheeze that only a stethoscope will pick up. The military buzz cut that concealed the sheen of a scalp exposed by chemo he had done during one of his long solo hunts when John was in a little side job of his own and the shadows that have started to show up on screen again.



She didn’t take Deans hand when they first met scratching him off as unimportant and he takes some satisfaction from the little stumble she makes as she realizes what she missed. If there is one thing Dean knows how to do it is shield. Shield his brother from harm, his father from familial guilt and his mind from just about any one, even himself when the time is right, He knew what his mother meant when she told Sammy she was sorry. He didn’t need any more than the one word she gave him; there was a bible in her glance.
So as his brother continues to exchange pleasantries with a woman they all know they will never see again Dean looks hard at Ms Mosley and with out saying a word lets her know loud and clear that she has been walking around with her metaphorical skirt tucked firmly in her panties. He gets that her first loyalty is to John, he gets that she looked right over him so she could poke closer at his brother. That’s fine with him, he has never had the time for friends, and Sammy is amazing. What he won’t accept is that she knows more than she is telling about what’s going on with his brother. He will give her time to deal with his father, but she is to make sure and clear that John knows that this is his one and only free pass. After this the clock is ticking, his energy grows less as the line of pill bottles grows longer, the life style they were set on and the sense of impending ‘something’ means that the round of chemo he needs to get through this little lot is a financial and fiscal impossibility. He barely pulled enough time and scams together the last time and that was without having a little brother he is trying to protect, train and walk through the grieving process looking over his shoulder. He throws in a few mental swear words in revenge for the mop incident, then breaks eye contact to grin over at his brother. Finally hustling Sammy into the car he looks back at her as she pulls a smile onto her face and accepts the ‘See you soon ‘ for the promise it is. He still has time yet, still some grains of sand to fall and he wants to see some more of America with his brother, but when the time comes Missouri will ensure that John is where he needs to be for the baton pass.

Date: 2006-05-30 12:53 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] drc1.livejournal.com
Hi B.,
I don't watch Supernatural and I don't read SN fanfic but it's nice to see you post.:-) I hope everything is fine and you are well.
S.

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February 2011

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