The Soldiering Life

Part 3

Note: Sorry about the wait. My inspiration has been running dry lately. Well, enough of that. Enjoy the chapter.

Location: Campbell Compound. January 24, 1995.

Today was Dean's sixteenth birthday, but he honestly did not remember that. He was too busy jumping out of bed and rushing to get dressed and prepped for another day of hell in high school to be distracted by something like his birthday.

Thankfully, Dean had a family to remember these things when he couldn't be bothered to.

"Hey, Casanova, why are you in such a hurry this morning?" Gwen called out from down the hallway as she watched Dean comically pull on his boots as he chewed on a piece of toast in his mouth.

Dean shot a nasty glare at his cousin before finally straightening out his laces and standing up straight. He took a bite out of the slightly soggy piece of toast and chewed on it hastily.

"In case you forgot, we have school, princess," he snorted softly, but relaxed and waved at Christian as he came down the hall behind Gwen.

Christian blinked owlishly behind his glasses as he looked up from his English reading and noticed his cousins loitering in the hallway again.

"Dean, did you forget that it's your birthday again?" the blond asked with a sleepy sigh. Christian knew he had hit the nail right on the head when Dean tensed up and froze right in front of them.

Dean raised a brow and frowned faintly as if in thought. "Huh. So it is. Guess that means I get to drive today," he crowed joyfully and shot his cousins a wide grin. "Come on, let's see if gramps will let us borrow the truck."

The dark blond had turned on his heel and was about to dash down the hall when he was stopped dead in his tracks by the sight of Samuel standing right behind him. Dean stared at Samuel with wide hazel eyes for a moment before he quickly backed up a step and laughed nervously.

"Hey. Morning, Grandpa Samuel. We were just about ask if we could borrow your truck," Dean smiled sheepishly before remembering the piece of toast in his hand and taking another bite out of it to relax himself.

"We?" Gwen questioned as she walked up to Dean and punched him lightly on the shoulder.

"Come on, just back me up guys," Dean groaned softly. He turned his head to look at Christian when he felt the other teen's hand on his shoulder. But at the sight of his cousin's mischievous smirk, Dean scowled.

"Sorry, Dean. Me and Gwen have to go get some breakfast. Tell us how things go with Samuel," the bespectacled teen winked at Dean and walked off towards the kitchen with Gwen right beside him.

"Traitors," Dean grumbled under his breath before he returned his focus to his grandpa and looked to the older male with bright, questioning eyes. "So, uh, mind if I borrow the truck?"

As soon as Samuel began to shake his head, Dean deflated. The teen was about to ask why, but any question that he had come up with died as he spotted the amused smile on his grandfather's expression. Dean arched a brow, but kept his mouth shut, knowing most of the signals that said Samuel was about to talk and this was one of them.

"I think that truck is a little too old for you, Dean. She's good, but she's not yours, you hear me?" Samuel said with a meaningful glance.

Dean was slow on the uptake, but once the information clicked into place, he was jumping on it and looking up at Grandpa Samuel with wide, shocked eyes. "Holy shit. Are you giving me a car?" the teen asked, his tone full of disbelief and excitement as he cracked a grin.

"Dean Campbell, you watch your mouth, young man!" Deanna called from the kitchen, he sharp ears never missing a curse or blasphemy that passed from her grandson's lips.

"Sorry, Grandma Deanna!" Dean hollered back before returning his eager attention to Samuel once again.

Samuel snorted softly at his grandson's antics, but reached into his jean pocket and drew out a set of car keys, his daughter's, Mary's, bracelet wrapped around the key ring like the protective charm it was. He watched as Dean zeroed in on the familiar sound of the bracelet's charms jingling and chuckled as the sixteen year old visibly paled and then flushed red at the sight of the even more familiar keys.

"The Impala?" Dean breathed out reverently, his voice barely a whisper and shaky as he tried to process the information and work through his shock.

"I think Mary would have wanted you to take the Impala, Dean," Samuel replied with a kind smile and took Dean's hand, setting the highly revered keys down in the teenager's slightly sweaty palm. "Take good care of her. She's yours now."

Though Dean could feel his heart drop to his stomach, the feeling was gone before he knew it and an elated grin split his face as he clutched the keys tightly in his hand.

"Thank you, Grandpa Samuel," Dean managed to bark out with grin that hurt more than anything he had been through before because it just wouldn't leave his face. As he walked away, body trembling with nerves and adrenaline, he still couldn't believe that he was inheriting the Impala.

All of the Campbell children revered the Impala, but none more so than Dean. Not even Christian or Gwen could hold a candle to how much their cousin loved the classic beauty whose engine purred them to sleep on more than one occasion.

Dean loved every centimeter of the Impala, even her flaws and blemishes, because each one was from a memory he shared with his family. And they made her even more beautiful than any other '67 Impala out there.

The trio's initials were lovingly carved into the Impala's interior with a knife Dean had snuck out of Samuel's weapon stash.

Legos, also courtesy of Dean, were shoved into her vents so that they rattled every time the A/C or heat was turned on.

Christian had shoved a plastic army man into her ash tray and no one had ever been able to free the green soldier-shaped toy.

Gwen even added her own touch. The first perfect Devil's Trap she ever drew is on the inside of the trunk, protecting all of the children's most prized possessions and weapons from any nasty demon who would try to break in.

So, even as Dean walked out into the garage and looked at the Impala, shining with a fresh coat of wax and just waiting for him to get inside and drive away with her, he reminded himself that she wasn't just his baby.

She was Mary's before she was ever his.

And now, she was Christian's and Gwen's too, because he knew he would be traveling across the country, hunting everything that went bump in the night with his favorite cousins.

And that thought was what made Dean all the much more grateful to Samuel as he got behind the steering wheel and watched the other members of the trio get in right after him.

Location: Pontiac, Illinois - Suburbs. June 16, 1997.

Eighteen and freshly graduated from high school, Dean felt that he'd earned the right to go out on a road trip across the country by himself. He left the Campbell Compound with a duffel bag full of clothes, money, and various other necessities and left only a note behind saying that he was going to be gone for about a week.

Dean had already driven for two days straight in the Impala, listening to her engine rumble as he drove her down roads that were a little more dirt than asphalt. He knew he'd have to give her another tune up and clean out all the dirt that's gotten on her, but he's happy. And he's in Pontiac, just like he said he would be.

Within the community of the Campbell family, it was a well known fact that Dean had something of a crush on a boy that he met when he went on his first hunt back in Pontiac. It was also a well known fact that Samuel had to open a P.O. box for a twelve year old Dean so that he could write and receive letters with said boy without revealing the location of their base of operations.

What wasn't well known, however, was that Dean had been exchanging letters for the past few months trying to organize the date and location for when he would be able to meet up with Jimmy Novak again.

So, there he was, a Dean Campbell who was six years older and more than a few inches taller, parking his baby near by the park where he had first met Jimmy. He got out of his car with a confident swagger that came second nature to him and a pleased smile perched on his cupid bow lips.

But all of that was dropped and long forgotten when the dark blond saw a man about his age sitting, waiting for him, on that same white park bench he had been sitting on all those years ago. He hadn't been expecting him to be out this early in the morning, but he was sort of glad that no one else was around to disturb them.

Dean paused mid step and looked down at himself. He made sure his faded jeans were all in one piece and his black tee wasn't too wrinkled and the dark blue shirt over it was on straight. He double checked his boots laces and made sure they were tied tight before he looked up again. But he quickly reeled back when he came face to face with Jimmy, who had apparently been watching him with an amused smile.

"Trying to impress me, Dean?" Jimmy asked and chuckled softly at the bright red blush that painted itself across Dean's cheeks.

But, looking at his pen pal, Jimmy felt a little overdressed in his black suit and blue tie. He hadn't been sure what to wear, however, and his mother had pushed him out of the house with his suit case in this after growing tired of his incessant rambling about meeting with Dean again for the first time in six years.

"Uh…you could say that," Dean mumbled, unwilling to admit that he had indeed been trying to impress Jimmy.

The brunet offered his friend a beatific smile that oddly reminded Dean of rich brown wings and a deep voice carrying him off to sleep with what sounded like a lullaby. But Dean shook his head and smiled sheepishly, pushing the mostly forgotten memories to the back of his mind, because the more he tried to think about them, the more he felt like a part of his brain was going to be scratched out.

"So, Jimmy, you ready for our road trip?" Dean asked with a confident smile, trying to hide his embarrassment from earlier behind his bravado.

"Huh? Oh. Our road trip. Right. Just let me get my things," Jimmy rambled, suddenly nervous and blushing himself as he ran back to the bench to grab his suit case. He could hear Dean chuckling as he ran back and couldn't help but look at the other teen with a slight frown, his blush a shade or two brighter than it had been previously.

"It's not funny, Dean," the brunet mumbled, fixing sad blue eyes on his friend. But he suddenly froze, his body tense with shock as he felt Dean's lips unexpectedly press against his own.

He's not disgusted. No. Far from it. Jimmy's just shocked. But he slowly pressed his lips back against Dean's and fumbled clumsily into the kiss he had been waiting for since Dean had admitted he liked him two years ago.

Dean reluctantly pulled away from the kiss, a stupid smile on his own lips as he looked into Jimmy's dazed blue pools, amusement shining in his own hazel green eyes. "No. It's not funny. Sorry about that, Jimmy," he said with a kind smile and clapped Jimmy across the back as he led him back to the Impala.

Location: Pontiac, Illinois - Motel. June 21, 1997.

For five long, but unforgettable days, Dean drove himself and Jimmy as far as they could go in the Impala. They talked about everything they couldn't fit into their letters, except for Dean's life as a hunter, of course. While Jimmy talked about his overly religious parents and how it had been hard for them to accept that he was most likely bisexual at first, Dean exchanged stories of being the class clown and starting prank wars with his cousins every chance he got and how his grandparents were worried that he would never be able to take anything seriously.

They had seen everything that they had wanted to see. They even saw the world's largest ball of twine, though it really wasn't that exciting, it was still a pretty interesting sight.

It had been just the two of them, the Impala, and the road. But now, they were back in Pontiac, staying in a cheap motel for the last night of their trip together.

Jimmy and Dean had gotten a room with two queens, but they were sitting on the same bed for now. Their hands were clasped tightly together as they sat beside one another and looked at each other nervously.

Dean was a regular Casanova who could charm the ladies right off their feet and Jimmy was a complete and total virgin who only touched himself on very rare occasions. His first real kiss had been taken by Dean.

But neither of them knew what to do now that they were alone together and on a bed.

"Dean, I-" Jimmy began nervously, timid, baby blue eyes shifting away from their shared gaze as he swallowed down the lump in his throat, but Dean stopped him and followed his gaze.

A hesitant smile appeared on the dark blond teen's lips, complementing the uncertain expression he wore on his pretty face. "It's alright, Jimmy. We don't have to do anything if you're not ready for it," he whispered, trying to take the edge off of Jimmy's nerves and maybe his own because he had never done anything like this with another man before, let alone anyone he honestly cared about.

"No, Dean. I…I honestly do like you and I want to…to try this with you, at least once. Please," the brunet stuttered and begged, gripping Dean's hand a little too tight. But no matter how much he tried, Jimmy couldn't hide the uncertainty he felt and he knew Dean could hear it in his voice. He had always been too honest for his own good and it was coming back to bite him in the ass at the worst possible time.

Dean's reluctant now too, but from the look in Jimmy's eyes, he could tell that the brunet was ready and he wasn't going to deny him anything if he could help it.

"Alright. But we'll take things slow. Just tell me if you want to stop and I'll stop. Got that?" he asked, needing to make sure that he had Jimmy's full consent before they went any further.

"Alright," Jimmy answered, forcing strength into his voice even though he was close to trembling with fear and excitement.

He summoned up the courage to kiss Dean. It was far from the second time they had kissed since beginning their week on the road together, but it was the first time Jimmy had even tried to initiate one. But it was slow and sweet. Something innocent, but intimate, that ignited fires in the pits of their stomachs.

"Lie back," Dean instructed Jimmy, breaking off the kiss and taking charge because he was the more experienced of the two in these types of situations.

He pressed his hand flat against Jimmy's chest, not really pushing him down, but letting his hand guide him before trailing down to open the buttons on the shirt he had let the brunet borrow. Dean pushed the shirt off of Jimmy's shoulders and pulled it off of him along with the tee underneath. Once they had been tossed carelessly off the side of the bed, the dark blond pressed his lips against the bared pale skin. It was a sort of opened mouth kiss to Jimmy's flat stomach and a swift lick that left a burning trail of saliva in its wake. Dean trailed these kisses up Jimmy's torso and right up to the slender column of the other male's neck. He scraped his teeth lightly against the sensitive skin, but didn't go any further when Jimmy made a small noise in protest.

"Dean," Jimmy whined, his voice breathless and strained. He threw his arm over his eyes, ashamed and unable to look down at Dean as his body was explored by gentle hands. He felt like he was sinning, betraying God in some unfathomable way, but he wanted Dean so badly. Jimmy was at war with himself.

"Do you want me to stop?" Dean asked cautiously, looking up at Jimmy with hesitant jade green eyes because he was afraid that he had ruined something perfect that they had.

"I…please, don't stop," Jimmy whimpered and finally moved his arm to rest it across Dean's shoulders. He bit his lip lightly as he bucked his hips, grinding his clothed erection against the one he could feel growing in Dean's jeans.

Both males groaned at the friction, the heat surging in their groins as they grinded just a little bit harder to get more contact between them. But Dean pulled away, a dark blush staining his freckled cheeks as he looked down at Jimmy with dark, almost forest green eyes.

"Clothes. Off," Dean commanded, his voice a broken edge becoming rougher with desire as he rushed to strip himself of his own clothing. But by the time he had finally stripped himself, boots, socks, and all, he felt like he had been separated from Jimmy for far too long.

Teenage hormones raged and clambered for attention and affection as the two came together. Hunger made their teeth click and clash as they kissed their lips red. Passion made their hands roam and wander the planes of the other male's body, desperate to memorize the others skin like a road map. But lust made them stop and pause and moan the others name as they ground their hips together.

A primal rhythm that neither was familiar with thrummed in their veins. It egged them on, pushed them harder and faster as their breaths became soft whines and grunts mixed with panting and breathy moans.

Dean stopped his hands and let them fall to Jimmy's slender hips, holding them in an almost bruising grip as he felt Jimmy's arms drape themselves over his shoulders.

"Jimmy," the dark blond moaned, his voice breaking as he got to the last syllable. He buried his face in the other teen's neck and could smell Jimmy's scent, at it's strongest and most alluring right where he had pressed his nose. Dean could feel the sweat slicking up their skin as things sort of spiraled into a frenzy of heat, sensation, and un-coordination.

Neither wanted it to end even though they desperately needed relief from the fire of passion that was consuming them alive. They needed solace from the precipice that they faced. But when they were dragged off that cliff, more so than jumped off of it, together, they knew something was broken. Irrevocably so.

After separate showers that were more than a little tense and a long ride back to the Novak Residence in silence, Jimmy refused to talk about what had happened between them and Dean couldn't understand what had been broken. He just knew that they had overstepped a line at some point during their act and that nothing would ever be the same between them.

Location: Pontiac, Illinois. August 21, 1998.

After a year of silence from Jimmy, the other male refused to answer any of his letters completely, Dean found a wedding invitation in his P.O. box. He knew that he should have been angry about this sort of thing coming out of the blue, but he was happy for the guy. And relieved that he hadn't ruined him or something.

So, Dean found himself in Pontiac again, maybe for the last time, in a rented tuxedo and slicked back hair, attending the wedding of Jimmy Novak and Amelia Bennett. He was trying to look his best because Deanna would have murdered him otherwise for being disrespectful to the happy couple.

But Dean didn't stick around for long. He didn't want to be at the reception. He hadn't brought a date. And he didn't want to be around for when everyone started asking who he was or how he knew Jimmy. He was only there long enough to watch the vows being taken and congratulate the newlyweds before he was hitting the road in the Impala again.

Location: Cicero, Indiana. August 22 through 24, 1998.

Dean left Pontiac and didn't look back. He drove down the road, wandering with a heart that ached and gnawed at him viciously in his chest. But he found that he didn't get very far.

The Impala came to a stop in Cicero, Indiana. It was a place he had never been to before, but he had gotten lucky.

After stopping buy a bar and flashing a fake ID, he had hooked up with a yoga teacher named Lisa Braeden and spent the bendiest weekend of his life in her loft.