Soul Hunting
Abby Ebon
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Note; much thanks must be given to undyinghunter for inquiring after this story being updated and letting me ramble on about some of my ideas for Sam and Dean.
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Sam doesn't know how Dean does it, but he finds a motel that takes his ill-gotten money, and Sam has never been so grateful for something so simply normal and common place as the economy at work. It's the little things like that that make all the difference, Sam thinks. Dean hasn't really changed, he's hair would be military short if not for the fact that he could not care less so long as it's out of his way. When it does, he'll cut it to be short, the spikes standing up like ruffled fur.
Dean looks like he could be a bad guy, a criminal, and maybe it's true that he earns that look, just a little, he pulls credit card scams – but Sam can't really think of that as wrong, it's credit cards companies that are responsible for ruining families because of fickle spending habits; those companies all but encourage that behavior, that debt.
Sam has seen a lot of monsters, who are evil or at least morally wrong, but it's just somehow worse to see companies of people taking advantage of – using and abusing financially and inevitably emotionally and socially – their own kind, crimes against humanity are so often real people hurting real people. It just seems wrong, that, especially with what Sam and Dean and Dad have gone though to save these very same people, to kill the real monsters in the dark no one wants to see.
Dean also plays poker, for money, and sometimes he does it just for kicks, for the fun of it; other times, he needs the money and plays high risk. Sam thinks he's just that good at playing people, Dean knows people – he just does – he needs to in order to work.
The work that Dean does, 'the job' he calls it, is protecting people, risking his own life and limb to put down something that's hurting (and more often) killing people. Sam thinks that Dean has always known what Dad was doing, when they were growing up and Dean was practically raising Sam on his own, Sam thinks Dad told Dean before Dean should have known that there were real monsters in the real world and not just on the television, Sam though, he had to have Dean tell him – he didn't know, didn't begin to suspect until things that should have added up to a 'real life' didn't.
His life wasn't how the television showed 'real life', television, Sam had known even then, was entertainment, but there was truth in lies, and so truth in it. He'd always suspected there was a reason for how odd Dean sometimes was about shows about monsters, before Sam knew - how he'd roll his eyes and snort at a 'mistake' a monster made, how he outright changed the channel when girls went down the stairs in the dark, or when he didn't leave the room before the end - how he'd look outright pained when the monsters hinted at getting away and good guys died and sacrificed and bled – when Sam knew, well, Dean's reactions sort of made sense.
It was Dad that Dean saw as the slayer of monsters, the doer of good deeds, and the hero.
Sam could never quite agree, for Sam, Dean was the hero: he'd raised Sam while Dad single-mindedly went out after things that killed ordinary unsuspecting people. When Dad was supposed to be raising him, teaching him, it was Dean that did it –taught him to drive and defend himself and fire a gun without making him freak about it like Dad never failed to intimidate him, that blood was a bond between family – that it made them strong. It was Dean that fed Sam, that went out and bought clothes when his were tearing and outgrown, Dean that rebelled against Dad in small ways – giving him a forth of July, a Christmas, a birthday – Dean defined the word big brother, for Sam, Dean was family – and Dad was…practically a stranger.
A stranger that ran Sam's life – and ruled Dean, Dad was who Dean obeyed, he should have been the 'good son', and was in every way that Sam saw that counted – but Sam…Sam knew he was Dad's favorite, and there was something wrong with that – that Dad could love Sam, but treat Dean like a shadow servant.
Sam hated Dad's orders, and that Dean obeyed without fail, without question. Dean did not even think to question Dad, or resent Sam. Sam hated himself, and hated and disobeyed Dad for Dead.
Maybe if Sam showed him how, Dean would rebel, just once. But, no – he never did. Not even when Sam told Dad he was going to school – a real college – not when he walked away and Dad told him to never come back. Sam had no intention of doing so – but he'd thought, had hoped that…that Dean would come with him, would follow him. Dean had raised him, and protected him like it was instinct and nature and the reason why he did the job, following in Dad's footsteps, protecting people to protect Sam.
Sam had realized that he had taken it for granted that Dean would follow him, and when he hadn't – Sam had hated Dad, for taking Dean away from where he belonged – at Sam's side. Sam had also realized that Dean had never really made the choice, Dad had made it and Dean had obeyed.
If Sam knew that if he ever forced Dean into of making such a choice, in Dean's eyes, it'd be all but betrayal of Dad and who Dean thought he was – how he defined himself.
Sam wasn't surprised then, when Dean called Dad first thing after finding a safe place.
"Dad," Dean started sitting on the mattress and staring at the television, "its Dean, Sam's with me. There aren't any signs, but everyone is acting like pod people," Dean gives a short and bitter bark of laughter, of course he doesn't say that aliens are invading people's bodies and taking over minds – but he's thinking it.
"Call back. Please. I –we – need you on this one." Dean thumbs off the cell phone, and the silence seeps in-between them like a cold chill. Sam knows he should be saying something, but he doesn't – he can't.
Dean doesn't say a word either, but makes another call, knowing the number by heart.
"Bobby, hey, it's Dean." If Sam closes his eyes, and thinks 'of course' he can be forgiven. Dean is very capable of avoiding the obvious when he wants to be, it's how they've survived each other living in such close quarters of motel rooms and the Impala's interior.
"Yeah, I'm fine, really – I've got Sam with me, listen, I know this sounds crazy, but we have a hunt that's like that movie with pod people." Sam turns the television on, because he's curious – sure – but he doesn't want to be the nosy little brother, so he watches the television blankly, it's a news station, and the sound is down – because while Sam can pretend to give Dean this privacy, he does want to know what Dean says.
"Invasion of the Body Snatchers, yeah – Sam called me for backup, it's happening at his school and -" Dean glances at the television absently, and then goes abruptly quiet. Sam actually sees what he's looking at on the screen. The news has always been a barrier of bad news, of the bad side of everything, like miserable real people want to imagine that this is real life and as bad as it gets – that's a lie, a delusion, like the way they don't see the real monsters in the dark and this is their way of fooling themselves.
"Bobby," Dean shocks him, sounding so broken - his world falling apart, 'the job' he's worked all his life has just twisted up on him; it hurts Sam to hear that dissonance in his brother's voice. It's like Dean thinks there isn't any hope, they've already won – but Sam won't let them, and he'll make sure Dean doesn't give up on them.
"Turn on the news, channel twelve, are you seeing what I am?" Dean asks like he's hoping he's seeing things.
"Humanitarian, but those aren't humans – look at their eyes, the silver rings in-between the pupil and the iris – it's them, the pod people. My god, Bobby, how long has this been going on?" Dean tears his eyes away from the screen, the announcements at the bottom, of hunger aide, and elderly care, and new breakthroughs in medical fields. It's all positive in a way the news and people can't be when they try to be honest about how bad the world is and lie to themselves at the same time.
"Yeah, yeah, I got a pen and paper - Harvelle's Roadhouse, huh? Alright, we'll meet you there." Dean doesn't ever say goodbye, call it a hunter superstition – or just a Dean one, but Sam doesn't think he's ever heard Dean outright say it or 'good night' or 'bye' over the phone. Dean isn't one to let go so easily. Saying 'bye' for him, it's too much like giving up and giving in and telling the person on the other end that they're dead in the end just like you.
"Get some sleep, Sam; we've got an early start tomorrow." Dean turns on the other bed, and Sam hears him undressing even if he doesn't look and Dean has his back to him. It makes it easier to say what's on his mind.
"Why'd you call Dad?" Sam asks, softly, though he knows Dean can hear him.
"We spilt up a while back, I took a hunt around here – Dad, well, you know how he is, he followed a led about Yellow Eyes." It strikes Sam that it's just like Dad to leave Dean to hunt on his own, to be so irresponsible with his son's life.
"Dad let you hunt on your own?" Sam can't stop himself from saying, unable to hide the disbelief and sickening opinion he now has for Dad, it's as low as Dean's is high.
"I'm twenty-six. You left, and Dad never babysat me before – why would he start now?" It's defensive, as Dean always is when Sam brings up Dad's failings and imperfections.
'Your job kills people – innocent people – every day, and hunters fall!' Sam wants to say, but the protest dies behind his lips before it's spoken. Dean shouldn't be hunting without someone watching his back – Sam never imagined that Dad would let Dean go hunt alone; if it had ever occurred to Sam that that might end up being the case, and he knows that if he had known, he would have reconsidered leaving as he had.
"Dad hasn't checked in." Dean lets those words fall between them, and it's like saying 'he could be dead', Sam might not think much of Dad – but Dad has one rule he's never broken, and that's checking in – even on a hunt where the mind-set demands a single-minded obsession – Dad always checked in, no matter how late. He drilled into Dean's head that rule, so it's almost a law to the Winchesters, one that Sam never saw the wisdom or reason to disobey.
"He will." Sam says, because he has to believe that – and Dean needs to hear it.
With that reassurance ringing true between them, the stress of weeks of suspecting and looking for monsters in human disguise and trying to watch his own back and search out some proof for what had only been suspicions until recently, catches up with Sam. He falls asleep as he's listening to Dean's even breathing and waiting to hear if Dean would talk to him.
He doesn't, and Sam falls asleep - safe.
Sam would almost regret a good nights sleep, regret not talking it out (or outright fighting) if it weren't for the fact that in a half-rate motel room, he'd felt truly safe for the first time sense walking away from hunting with Dad and Dean. It's the difference in being alone, without Dean, and having Dean beside him, Sam knows and acknowledges as he wakes up with the sunlight spilling into the window.
When he opens his eyes, Dean is smirking at him, having pulled the curtain open so the sun would wake him.
"Rise and shine, Sammy...!" Sam groans and burrows his head under the pillow for momentary respite. Dean laughs and where his brother can't see, Sam rolls his eyes – only then peering up Dean. Sam wonders if Dean really did get any sleep, and if he has, or hasn't, Sam can't tell – and that bothers him, that he can't read his own brother anymore, he covers it with annoyance – that's real, but it's self directed rather then at Dean's antics.
"Did you even sleep?" Sam doesn't know why he asks, because Dean has never answered him when it concerns his own health – as if it shouldn't matter to anyone, not even Sam – as if Dean should be the only one to worry about himself, even if he's always worrying over Sam about the littlest thing.
Dean shrugs and it's with a certain familiarity that they move together to clear out of the motel room. It's a unity that Sam's not surprised he so badly missed, the rest of the day passes surreal - it's déjà vu - as if Sam never left for college, and in it's own way it's disturbing for Sam, that they avoid that gapping chasm between them, the yawning void that threatens to swallow them whole if they acknowledge it.
Sam unconsciously trusts Dean to have his back, because Dean has always done it and that's the way it's always been between them – but Dean, he used to trust Sam to watch out for him, to return the favor. It strikes Sam that maybe Dean is hard to read, not because Sam's forgotten how to do it, or is out of practice, but because Dean doesn't want Sam to see any sign of how he feels.
Sam knows the Dean from before, but this Dean is a familiar stranger to him; Sam is confidant that he can do this, he can learn how to know Dean like he did – but if he does, Sam doesn't know if he'll leave.
Sam wonders if Dean thinks that Sam's changed. Dean doesn't show it if he does, but then Dean isn't one to express his thoughts and emotions openly, save for what signs and hints Sam learned to look for. Sam used to be able to read every subtle expression and mannerism, but they've changed – or maybe, and the thought is troubling and comforting all at once – Sam can relearn to read the signs.
Dean's changed – and probably so has Sam – but some things remain the same.
A sang that never rings truer then when Dean doesn't think anything of answering his phone while driving.
"Dad…?" Dean glances to Sam, as if he isn't sure if his younger brother approves, Sam tries very hard not to show an outward expression, of course Dean's expression closes off, shutters, no one knows Sam like his brother.
A brow furrowing in a way that makes Sam concerned despite himself, Dean silently listens, and Sam wonders what orders Dad is giving. The phone cuts off, and Dean plays with it – and Sam can only tense, eyes raised to the road, ready to shout a warning if the empty road offers a challenge while Dean is distracted, but it doesn't, it never does such is Dean's luck – the conversation, or lack of it - plays for Sam to fill the silence.
It's Dad, and more – static.
Dean plays it backward, and Sam gets chills; a woman's voice, pleading for home, a ghost…probably what Dad's after. Sam closes his eyes, and wonders what Dad's gotten into now, in the middle of an alien invasion no less. It never fails; really, whatever Dad's after is probably in the middle of everything else.
Dean looks to Sam again, as if he's willing to obey Sam's orders now that they can't reach Dad, Sam doesn't want that responsibility, and Dean's life should be his own.
"Where is he?" Sam can't help but ask, staring at the phone as if it can tell him.
"Jericho, California." It let's Sam know that his family has mostly been staying in California, where Stanford is, where Sam is going to college. He isn't sure what to think about it, so he concentrates on the problem on hand – where to go.
"Where is this Harvelle's Roadhouse that Bobby wants us to go to?" Dean doesn't look away from the road as he answers.
"Nebraska." Sam slumps a little in his seat. It just had to be in the middle of America.
"Bobby's in South Dakota." Dean reminds him, as if Sam should have expected this – and he did, a little, because their lives have been one big road trip – or hunting trip, to be more accurate. Sam is all too afraid that if he slips back into the pattern, there will be no getting out – but he reminds himself of worse things, namely aliens – and invasions.
Sam has been raised to kill impossible things, so while he is a bit overwhelmed with the fact of – hello – aliens from space, he doesn't think for a minute that they can't solve this.
Bobby would probably want them to go straight to Nebraska – from California – but Sam isn't used to such distances. A trip to Jericho is out of the way, but at least in-state. Dad might even be around there.
"Jericho it is then." Sam says, and Dean simply grins. It's good to see, Sam thinks.
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Note; the next chapter we'll be at the Roadhouse; skimming over Jericho to get their dad's hunting journal.