Sam/Dean Mini Bang 2011: All Roads Lead to You (Part 2)
back to Part 1
(Please see masterpost for warnings)
Sam woke up to the sound of the shower running and the absence of Dean. It was weird, if only for the fact that he was almost always up before Dean, and was therefore unaccustomed to waking up alone. Quite frankly, he wasn’t sure how Dean did it.
After a few minutes in his lazy sprawl, his husband rejoined him. Warm, wet washcloth in hand, Dean cleaned the mess off his stomach without a word, and kissed him when he was done.
“I gotta go to work, babe.” Dean informed him, lips still brushing against his as he spoke.
“I know. Go. Have fun.” Dean smiled at that. They were both rather fortunate in that they truly enjoyed their jobs.
“I will.” Dean pulled away, and left the room. Sam took that as his cue to get up. No doubt Dad would already be up and waiting for him.
He reluctantly slid out of bed and raided the closet for something to put on. While his clothes were perfectly acceptable for his job and for going out, he had very little in the way of lounging clothes. On his rare days off, it was likely he would end up wearing little to nothing.
Settling on a bigger pair of Dean’s sweats and his old AC/DC t-shirt, Sam lazily dressed and made his way through his bathroom routine. Teeth brushed: check. Hair combed: check. Toilet seat down after use: check. (Sam’s rule, but Dean didn’t mind.)
He exited the bathroom feeling a great deal more awake than when he entered, and smiled when he smelled the coffee brewing in the kitchen. His father was leaning against the counter, steaming mug in hand, and a strange expression on his face.
“What?” Sam asked, curiosity getting the better of him.
“Since when do you like AC/DC?” John replies.
“Never. This is Dean’s.” His father smirks a bit.
“Your mom used to wear my t-shirts sometimes. Except they were far too big on her. That shirt looks too small on you.”
Sam laughed. “I don’t think I’ve worn Dean’s clothes since I had caught the flu when I was…fourteen maybe?” Sam smiled as he poured himself his own warm beverage. “It was a comfort thing, and they definitely were too big on me then.”
John looked confused. “I don’t remember you catching the flu.”
“You wouldn’t.” Sam turned back to him, leaning on the opposite counter. “You were gone for about two weeks hunting a particularly tricky shapeshifter with Caleb. I got sick the day after you left, and was better by the time you got back. Dean made me lots of soup.” He smiled at the memory, almost loosing himself in it before looking back to his father.
John’s brow furrowed momentarily before he murmured, “Sorry I wasn’t there.”
Sam nodded with a sudden understanding that his father’s statement wasn’t just about the time he got the flu. It was for all the times he wasn’t around when he should have been. It was for his first fifteen years of life, and every year after he sent them away. Sam couldn’t help but turn away at the sight of his father near tears.
“Would you like-” Sam spoke slowly, hoping like hell this was the right thing to offer. “Would you like to see mine and Dean’s wedding video?”
“Yeah,” John admitted. “I would.”
Sam took his mug with him into the living room, and John followed suit. The DVD was in a decorative box beside the television. After placing the DVD in the player, Sam sat down beside his father on the sofa.
John watched as Sam walked down the aisle; Dean’s face was one of sheer awe. A whisper exchanged between them before the pastor began. Smiles lit their faces, and the ceremony began.
Much to John’s delight, the pastor announced that the grooms had prepared their own vows. Dean went first, voice shaking a bit, but steady by the end of his first sentence.
Sam, He paused, you know I’m not really good with words…I’m kind of more of an ‘actions speak louder’ type of guy, so I hope you’ll bear with me while I try not to mess this up too bad. A few members of the audience laughed. I have been so in love with you for so long…I don’t think I could ever live without you. I knew, even as I asked you for this, that we’d be together anyways. But I couldn’t help but want to give this to us…to you. I promise you, that from here on out, I will give you everything I have, everything I am, and then some. Because nothing has ever meant more to me than you. He kinda choked up on the last line, but Sam squeezed his hand, and the ceremony proceeded.
Dean, Sam started, a great deal more confident than his soon-to-be husband had been. If there has ever been one thing in my life that I could count on, it’s you. You’ve always watched out for me, had my back…fended off the jerks at school who only saw the socially awkward boy I used to be. You’ve been there for me, which I appreciated. I always looked to you when I couldn’t handle what life was throwing at me. When I was a teenager, it blindsided me, how one day I realized that I loved you. It felt like the most natural thing in the world. And you loved me back, too.
You’ve always given me everything, while I gave very little in return. So today I give you my life, as you are my reason for living. I give you this in the hopes that we can walk through life together, and as one. I look at you, and still feel like the lovestruck teenager. I feel every bit as in love with you now as I did back then, and then some. You take my breath away sometimes, De, and I couldn’t have been happier when you asked me to marry you.
The both of them looked close to tears, as Bobby, who was standing beside Dean, handed over the rings.
John couldn’t help but notice how gently Dean took Sam’s hand to slip the ring on. Without thinking about it, John glanced over at Sam’s hand, where that very ring remained. Sam caught him looking, but said nothing.
Dean smiled, “With this ring, I thee wed.”
When it was Sam’s turn to place a ring on Dean, he was just as delicate. “With this ring, I thee wed.”
Their hands lingered together before they turned to the pastor. By the power vested in me by the State of California, witnessed by your friends and family, I now pronounce you husbands. You may now seal your vows with a kiss.
Dean gave a mischievous grin before cupping his husband’s cheeks in his hands, and pulling him down for some tongue action. How very Dean, John thought. Sam snaked his hands around his husband’s waist, and the applause resounded through the hall.
But the recording wasn’t over.
The scene changed to what John assumed to be the reception hall. A few tables with candles in the center circled around a dance floor and a stage. The wedding wasn’t all that large, but the room made the wedding party look a lot larger. Some of their friends said some words to the camera about how wonderful Sam and Dean were together. Bobby recounted the tale of when he caught the boys making out in his spare room (which John kinda laughed at.)
And then the grooms entered, and thanked everyone for coming. It was time for the first dance.
Dean placed his hand in Sam’s slightly larger one as the music started. Sam wrapped his arm around Dean’s waist, and Dean slipped his around Sam’s neck. As they began to sway, Justin Timberlake’s voice cut in:
When the visions around you,
Bring tears to your eyes
And all that surround you,
Are secrets and lies
Dean smiled as they moved together, content to let Sam have the lead. John was slightly surprised at this, but after a moment of thought, he reminded himself that for Dean, Sam’s wants and needs always came first.
I'll be your strength,
I'll give you hope,
Keeping your faith when it's gone
The one you should call,
Was standing here all along…
John didn’t pay any attention to the chorus, too much in awe of the way that Dean placed his head atop Sam’s shoulder. It was a momentary thing, but still so seemingly out of character that John had to notice.
I've loved you forever,
In lifetimes before
And I promise you never...
Will you hurt anymore
I give you my word
I give you my heart (give you my heart)
This is a battle we've won
And with this vow,
Forever has now begun...
John didn’t take his eyes away from the screen during the entire dance. He sat through various people, some he knew, some he didn’t, wish his sons the best of life as a message to the camera. And then the DVD was through.
Sam once again left the couch, returning the DVD to its proper place before spinning around to face his father.
“So…” Sam smiled, taking in the stunned appearance of the once hardened John Winchester.
“It’s a lot different knowing you boys are married and actually seeing the wedding. Just…why don’t we play poker or something?”
Sam smiled knowingly; his dad didn’t do the touching, emotional stuff all that well. “Sure Dad, I’ll go get some cards.”
*******
Dean came home to the sounds of laughter and shuffling card, accompanied by the smell of stir fry. He shrugged off the top of his coveralls and tied them around his waist before slipping into the kitchen and up to the table.
He couldn’t help but smile at the sight before him; his dad, who had a nasty habit of brushing off Sam when they were kids, was actually sitting at the table, very involved in the poker game he and Sam were in the midst of. Dean snuck up behind Sam and wrapped his arms around him, placing a delicate kiss to his cheek.
“Hey, babe.” Dean smirked, momentarily clinging tighter before letting go.
“Hey! Dinner’s done and on the stove. Dad and I ate a while ago.” Sam abandoned the cards to look at him. Their father didn’t seem to mind.
“I’ll eat in a few. I need to go shower. Oh, and after dinner I have to pack.” He then addressed his dad, “When are we heading out?”
“Well, we don’t need to be there until maybe 1700 hours, so I think if we leave around noon, we don’t have to rush.”
“Mmh,” Dean hummed, “I guess that means I get to sleep in.”
“Unfortunately, I have to go back to work. I’ll be up early.” Sam informed him. “I have to meet with the DA.” Dean scowled.
“You better wake me before you leave.” Sam smiled, pulling Dean into another kiss before replying, “Always.”
John coughed slightly, his moderate discomfort still apparent despite his acceptance and understanding. Dean drew away and headed for the bedroom. He had a lot to do before he could go to bed.
*******
Sam puts the finishing touches on his tie before returning to the bed to wake Dean with kisses. The first is to his forehead, which earns Sam a swat (he’s learned to dodge it). When Dean settles, Sam places a second to the bridge of his nose, earning him a slight smirk. The third, placed delicately to Dean’s lips, does the trick, and he opens his brilliantly green eyes.
“Morning, Sammy.” Dean breaks into a full-fledged grin.
“Dude, your breath reeks! Please tell me you brushed your teeth last night!” Sam sighs, backing up. Dean pulls him back down by the blue silk around his neck.
“Course I did. You’re ruining the moment!” Dean presses his lips against his husband’s, trying not to laugh at Sam’s qualms with morning breath.
“I didn’t know we had moments.” Sam reluctantly pulls away, heading for the door. “And I have to leave. I’m running a bit late.”
“Awww, baby! You can’t stay a little longer!” Dean huffed, finally sitting up.
“No! I have to go!” Sam grins, pulling the bedroom door nearly shut before opening it again to say, “Be careful tonight, De.”
Dean rolled his eyes.
“I mean it! I don’t wanna have to get the med kit out when you get home!” Neither of them bothered to mention the “if”. They both knew that hunting was dangerous, and even the most benign hunt could be your last.
“Chill, Sammy, no one’s getting hurt tonight.” Sam returned to kiss Dean again, desperation and worry clinging to his lips like it hadn’t since they were teens.
“I do mean it, Dean.” He whispered, “You get yourself killed, and I’ll bring you back just to kill you again. And I know how to hide a body.”
Dean shuddered at the implications. “You couldn’t kill me, you love me too much.” Dean couldn’t help but kiss him again. “Ugh! Go to work, before I can’t let you go!”
Sam shuffled out of the room, and a few minutes later, Dean heard the apartment door open and close. He set his alarm for 10:30 and settled back down to sleep a while longer.
*******
The drive to Nevada was near silent, but it was okay. The silence wasn’t thick or oppressing; in fact, it was the opposite. Dean hadn’t felt this free to speak to his father in a long time. Even before he and Sam left, he’d been getting a bit skittish about their relationship. Going behind his father’s back was big, and he wasn’t sure that John hadn’t figured it out long before he let on.
He used to be rather paranoid, but it felt nice that Dad was willing to take him hunting, despite all that happened in the past. Electric Light Orchestra blaring from the truck’s speakers, he felt really good.
They arrived plenty in time to hit up a local diner before sundown; Dean ordered the bacon cheeseburger, and John the old-timer burger with extra onions.
“Since when do you get onions, Dad?” Dean can’t remember a time when John didn’t adamantly protest the presence of the vegetable on his sandwiches.
“Taste buds change, I guess.” He shrugged, scanning the scenery outside the window. “Let’s make dinner quick, Dean. It’ll be dark soon and I don’t want to be out there all night.”
“Alright,” Dean agreed, “wanna go over our intel one more time while we wait for our food?
“Sounds good.” John returned his attention to his son and pulled out the folder containing all the information he’d collected.
*******
Sam returned from work to an empty house. Which, of course, was a bit unusual. But knowing exactly where Dean was right now didn’t help. It made him nervous. He sighed as he set his stuff down and changed out of his suit and into his skinny jeans and black, v-neck shirt. He didn’t even think about it, but those were the clothes he wore when he was heading out to his favorite gay bar in Lavender Heights. Usually, he took Dean with him, but he’d been there by himself before, too. It seemed like a perfect distraction for this evening, so he went with it.
In the bathroom, he lined his eyes with black eyeliner, not too thick or too thin, but just enough to make his feline eyes stand out. He ran his fingers through his hair with some water to let it fall into his face a bit, a stark contrast from the more controlled ‘do he donned at work. Grabbing his wallet and his keys, he left the apartment again, intending to have a nice night out. Hopefully, without Dean to protect his virtue, the guys would keep their hands to themselves.
*******
Pulling up to an abandoned building on the run-down side of town, John parked his truck and went to grab a gun for himself out of the weapons compartment in the back. Dean was quick to follow, pulling out the piece he kept in the waistband of his jeans to check the ammo and turn the safety off. There would be no more talking for here on out.
John handed Dean an extra clip of silver bullets, and placed one in his jacket pocket. The air was warm, thus making a jacket impractical for most people, but pockets were somewhat of a necessity for hunters. Dean knew this as well; slipping back on the old, secondhand leather jacket his father had gifted him with at seventeen. Second to the impala, it was the greatest material gift his father had ever given him.
The hunter and his son could hear the werewolves fighting inside. Too many for one area, Dean thought, for how territorial they get. They entered the building as silently as they could, propping the squeaky door open so as not to have to move it again. John headed up the stairs where the noise was coming from, and Dean looked around on ground level.
Finding nothing, and no were’s in sight, Dean headed back to the front and up the stairs. His father had remained out of sight, waiting on him, and signaled to him that he counted five werewolves in the room. John motioned that he’d take the three on the left, leaving Dean the two on the right. Both steadied their aim and fired as quickly and accurately as they could. John hit all three of his marks in quick succession, no time for the creatures to tell what was happening. Dean hit one, and missed the heart on the other. It charged for him.
Quickly thinking, John shot the thing before it could reach his son. They both knew that the hunt was over, but still looked around to see if there was anything else they needed to take care of. Finding nothing, they headed back to the truck.
*******
Sam sat at the bar and ordered himself some chili-cheese fries and a beer. Contrary to what Dean tells everyone, he loves junk food just as much as the next guy. He just eats it sparingly. Unfortunately, he has a nasty habit of overindulging when he’s stressed.
Suddenly, a young man wearing jeans tighter than Sam’s and a band tee slipped into Sam’s personal space. “This seat taken?” He asked, failing to hide his nerves.
“Sorry, kid.” Sam smiled, holding up his left hand, “My husband may not be here with me, but I’m already taken.”
“Oh.” The guy stammered, “Well, can I sit with you anyways. My friends have been nagging me to come over and say hi ever since you walked in.” He indicated a small group in the back, all covertly staring at them.
“Sure. Why not. I’m Sam.” Sam put out his other hand, which the man promptly shook.
“I’m Taylor.” He smiled, taking the stool next to Sam’s. He called the bartender over, and ordered a beer for himself. It came a minute or two after Sam’s food.
When Sam leaves, he’s in a considerably better mood than when he first arrived. Taylor was fantastically conversational, and as it turns out, he works at the same shop Dean does. He only does basic repairs, though. Lost in his own thoughts, he didn’t notice that the four men who were previously on the opposite sidewalk were headed his way.
“Hey!” one of them shouted. Sam nearly jumped out of his skin, snapping his head up for his eyes to meet them.
“Hello,” Sam nodded, assessing the situation. He wasn’t sure yet if he should run, or make conversation. Sometimes it’s hard to tell.
“My buddies and I,” The evident leader of the group started, “we couldn’t help but notice that you just came out of that club over there.”
Sam started to realize that this wasn’t a time for friendly conversation. He needed to get back to his car before they started something. Only having had two beers, he wasn’t anywhere near drunk enough to pick a fight. But he was also just enough intoxicated to make his reaction time a bit slower…concerning if he did end up in a fight with them.
“Yeah, I did leave from the club. I’m just gonna head home.” Sam tried to move through two of the men to his right, one taller than him and built; the other, plump but overbearing. They moved to make his passage difficult. Sam tried to pass between the leader and stretch, and had no more luck than he did on his first attempt.
His heart started to race a bit as he realized he was probably going to fight his way through.
“Let me through.” He tried, putting all the authority and control he could manage into it as a last ditch effort before resorting to throwing punches. The third man, shorter and leaner than the rest, placed a firm hand upon his shoulder as the leader spat, “You’re not going anywhere, you filthy queer. Me and my buddies don’t like your kind. It’s time you learned to quit spreading your filth in our city!”
Sam quickly grasped the wrist of the man behind him (who he dubbed “shadow”, for the fact he hadn’t seen the guy’s face yet) and spun around, taking him to the ground before throwing his right hook to leader’s jaw. Beefy and Stretch wrestled him roughly to the cement, pinning his shoulders and arms as best they could while Shadow grabbed his legs.
Combined, they had just enough weight on him to effectively keep him down. He struggled fruitlessly to break free, twisting and bucking to try to throw them off. Leader loomed over him, disgust evident in his face.
“I told you you weren’t going anywhere.” A solid blow to his ribs with a steel-toed boot, by the feel of it, made itself known immediately. “Struggling is just going to make it worse for you.”
Sam turned his head, a last ditch effort to protect some part of himself, as fists rained down upon his exposed anterior. He closed his eyes, focused on the breathing as best he could, and blocked out the pain. He was so far away…so lost within himself. When he finally returned, he was looking up into the eyes of a very worried Taylor. His head rested in the younger man’s lap, and he vaguely registered being told not to move; that the paramedics were on their way.
Sam’s eyes slipped closed again as the darkness overtook him.
*******
John put his guns back into the special weapons compartment in the back of the truck before heading to the cab. Dean simply returned his to the back of his pants. Despite the number of werewolves they took out, the job had been easy. Neither man cared to think about Dean’s faulty aim. It was barely 10:00 pm when they got back on the highway.
“You did good back there, boy.” John smiled, patting Dean on the shoulder.
Dean smirked back, “Thanks, Dad.”
“Maybe, uh, we can hunt again sometime.” John hazarded. Truthfully, he’d enjoyed having Dean at his side again. It would feel weird to go back to hunting solo after the night they had.
“Maybe. But right now, I’m eager to get home to my husband.” He rested his head in the palm of his hand, propped up on the windowsill. So content in his thoughts of Sam, he nearly missed his father calling him a “sap.” But he didn’t mind; it was 100% true. He’d always be sappy when it came to Sam.
Speaking of, Dean’s phone rang, the guitar rift emanating from the speaker of his mobile device easily cutting through the song on the radio. The caller ID identified it as Sam.
“Hey, Sammy, we’re heading back now.”
“Not Sam. It’s Andrew, from the firm.” A rush of panic settled uncomfortably at the pit of Dean’s stomach at those words.
“Why do you have Sam’s phone?” John perked up at that and quickly turned down the radio to listen.
“I’m at the hospital, and one of the nurses gave it to me to call you. Sam got here by ambulance about an hour ago, but they’re not telling much.”
Dean roughly rubbed his hand over his face before asking, “What do you know?”
“They’re saying that he was attacked by some guys after leaving that club you guys go to. They won’t tell me about his physical condition since I’m not family, but I do know they brought him up for surgery.”
Dean’s breathing quickened as he listened to Sam’s co-worker speak. This was not happening. This couldn’t happen! Sam knows how to defend himself, and he never gets sloppy drunk, so he couldn’t have been too gone to fight.
“I’m in Nevada, but I’m headed back now. I’ll be there as quick as I can. Which hospital?”
“Sutter General.”
“Okay. Uh, if you do get to see him, let him know I’m on my way.”
“Alright, Dean. Just…drive safe, okay? It’ll do Sam no good if you get in a wreck on the way over.”
“Will do.” With that, Dean hung up the phone and took a breath before turning to his father.
“So?” John prompted, alternating from looking at the road and his son.
“Sam’s been attacked. He’s at the hospital, and in surgery.” John pulled over at the sight of Dean’s panic.
“Dean, talk to me.” He shook Dean’s shoulders. Meanwhile, Dean was struggling for breath, white knuckling the edges of the seat. He shook his head in response. “You need to breathe, Son. He’ll be alright. We’re gonna get there. Just breathe.”
He began to rub circles into his son’s back in an attempt to soothe. He’d never seen Dean have a panic attack before, so he didn’t know what else to do. “Sammy will be fine, Dean.”
That seemed to break through to him, and his breathing became a bit less strained. “Let’s get back to California, huh? I’ll bet that he’ll be waiting for us when we get there.”
“He…he was at the club, Dad. There’s no way this wasn’t a homophobic attack.” John didn’t have anything to say to that. He was too pissed off now that he’d gotten Dean to calm down.
He sped, and hoped like hell there were no cops or state troopers on the way.
*******
Sam woke to the beeping sounds of machines, and the feel of Dean’s warm hand in his. The second he opened his eyes, Dean was up and out of his seat, leaning over him in a way that made it so he didn’t have to move to see him.
“Hey.” Sam croaked, noting how bad he sounded. “How’d the hunt go.”
“We kicked ass.” John piped in, making his presence known.
“That’s great.” He smiled before closing his eyes again.
“Hey, Sammy, don’t fall asleep on me. I…I need for you to stay with me.” Dean’s voice wasn’t so steady, now that Sam thought about it. He opened his eyes to see that Dean was crying.
“De?” Sam asked, bringing his other hand up to wipe away the tears, “Why’re you cry’n?”
“They hurt you, Sam. You had internal bleeding, broken ribs, broken arm and leg…” Dean trailed off.
Just then, one of the two nurses from the ward gave them a dirty look, and heaven help her, John saw it.
“Hey!” He called, “You got a problem?” She walked in, all attitude, rather unbecoming for a nurse.
“Yeah, I do. I’d rather not see a couple of faggots all over each other, if that’s alright.”
“These ‘fagots,’ as you called them, are my son and his husband! They have as much right to console each other in the hospital as any other married couple!” John looked about ready to punch her before Andrew, Sam’s coworker, and a blonde haired nurse stepped in.
“Rachel, the head nurse wants to see you.” She bit out, before turning back to John. “You’re Sam’s father, right?”
“Yeah.” He forced his voice to be somewhat more normal; this nurse hadn’t done anything wrong, after all.
“Rachel had been Sam’s nurse, but after what we all just saw happen, I’ll be taking over. I assure you it won’t happen again, and she will face consequences.”
Meanwhile, John saw Nurse Rachel pass by again, belongings in hand, looking rather angry.
“What can you tell me about my boy?” John returned his attention to the new nurse.
“I can tell you that his surgery went well, but I’ll have to get his doctor if you want to know more.” John nodded, and she departed. Andrew stepped further into the room.
“The cops just picked up the guys who did this. They got enough DNA evidence off of Sam to confirm that they were repeat offenders already in the system. I think, given the evidence and the willingness for the witness to testify, it’s likely none of those guys will see the outside of a prison gate for a very long time.” Andrew informed them without being prompted. Dean nodded once before placing his head back down on Sam’s bed. Sam said nothing, but returned to running his fingers through Dean’s hair as he had been doing before Andrew stepped forward.
“You’re a lawyer, right?” John asked.
“Yes, sir.”
“Are you gonna make sure that it happens?” John inquired. If need be, he’d ensure they never hurt anyone again, but getting a lawyer to do it would be easier.
“No, actually. Since Sam and I work together, it’s conflict of interest. I’ve called a friend of mine down in San Francisco to defend Sam.”
This answer seemed to appease John, and Sam let out a weak “thank you” before Andrew left the room.
John turned back to see Dean delicately placing his lips to Sam’s while he brushed a tear off his husband’s face. But he knew that the tears were not all Sam’s. Saline trails glistened on Dean’s face, which Sam drew his good hand up to wipe away, returning the favor. John felt like an outsider in this all-consuming love so prominently on display by his sons. But that was okay; he was just glad that they were both alive, and safe within each other’s grasp.
Epilogue
(Please see masterpost for warnings)
Sam woke up to the sound of the shower running and the absence of Dean. It was weird, if only for the fact that he was almost always up before Dean, and was therefore unaccustomed to waking up alone. Quite frankly, he wasn’t sure how Dean did it.
After a few minutes in his lazy sprawl, his husband rejoined him. Warm, wet washcloth in hand, Dean cleaned the mess off his stomach without a word, and kissed him when he was done.
“I gotta go to work, babe.” Dean informed him, lips still brushing against his as he spoke.
“I know. Go. Have fun.” Dean smiled at that. They were both rather fortunate in that they truly enjoyed their jobs.
“I will.” Dean pulled away, and left the room. Sam took that as his cue to get up. No doubt Dad would already be up and waiting for him.
He reluctantly slid out of bed and raided the closet for something to put on. While his clothes were perfectly acceptable for his job and for going out, he had very little in the way of lounging clothes. On his rare days off, it was likely he would end up wearing little to nothing.
Settling on a bigger pair of Dean’s sweats and his old AC/DC t-shirt, Sam lazily dressed and made his way through his bathroom routine. Teeth brushed: check. Hair combed: check. Toilet seat down after use: check. (Sam’s rule, but Dean didn’t mind.)
He exited the bathroom feeling a great deal more awake than when he entered, and smiled when he smelled the coffee brewing in the kitchen. His father was leaning against the counter, steaming mug in hand, and a strange expression on his face.
“What?” Sam asked, curiosity getting the better of him.
“Since when do you like AC/DC?” John replies.
“Never. This is Dean’s.” His father smirks a bit.
“Your mom used to wear my t-shirts sometimes. Except they were far too big on her. That shirt looks too small on you.”
Sam laughed. “I don’t think I’ve worn Dean’s clothes since I had caught the flu when I was…fourteen maybe?” Sam smiled as he poured himself his own warm beverage. “It was a comfort thing, and they definitely were too big on me then.”
John looked confused. “I don’t remember you catching the flu.”
“You wouldn’t.” Sam turned back to him, leaning on the opposite counter. “You were gone for about two weeks hunting a particularly tricky shapeshifter with Caleb. I got sick the day after you left, and was better by the time you got back. Dean made me lots of soup.” He smiled at the memory, almost loosing himself in it before looking back to his father.
John’s brow furrowed momentarily before he murmured, “Sorry I wasn’t there.”
Sam nodded with a sudden understanding that his father’s statement wasn’t just about the time he got the flu. It was for all the times he wasn’t around when he should have been. It was for his first fifteen years of life, and every year after he sent them away. Sam couldn’t help but turn away at the sight of his father near tears.
“Would you like-” Sam spoke slowly, hoping like hell this was the right thing to offer. “Would you like to see mine and Dean’s wedding video?”
“Yeah,” John admitted. “I would.”
Sam took his mug with him into the living room, and John followed suit. The DVD was in a decorative box beside the television. After placing the DVD in the player, Sam sat down beside his father on the sofa.
John watched as Sam walked down the aisle; Dean’s face was one of sheer awe. A whisper exchanged between them before the pastor began. Smiles lit their faces, and the ceremony began.
Much to John’s delight, the pastor announced that the grooms had prepared their own vows. Dean went first, voice shaking a bit, but steady by the end of his first sentence.
Sam, He paused, you know I’m not really good with words…I’m kind of more of an ‘actions speak louder’ type of guy, so I hope you’ll bear with me while I try not to mess this up too bad. A few members of the audience laughed. I have been so in love with you for so long…I don’t think I could ever live without you. I knew, even as I asked you for this, that we’d be together anyways. But I couldn’t help but want to give this to us…to you. I promise you, that from here on out, I will give you everything I have, everything I am, and then some. Because nothing has ever meant more to me than you. He kinda choked up on the last line, but Sam squeezed his hand, and the ceremony proceeded.
Dean, Sam started, a great deal more confident than his soon-to-be husband had been. If there has ever been one thing in my life that I could count on, it’s you. You’ve always watched out for me, had my back…fended off the jerks at school who only saw the socially awkward boy I used to be. You’ve been there for me, which I appreciated. I always looked to you when I couldn’t handle what life was throwing at me. When I was a teenager, it blindsided me, how one day I realized that I loved you. It felt like the most natural thing in the world. And you loved me back, too.
You’ve always given me everything, while I gave very little in return. So today I give you my life, as you are my reason for living. I give you this in the hopes that we can walk through life together, and as one. I look at you, and still feel like the lovestruck teenager. I feel every bit as in love with you now as I did back then, and then some. You take my breath away sometimes, De, and I couldn’t have been happier when you asked me to marry you.
The both of them looked close to tears, as Bobby, who was standing beside Dean, handed over the rings.
John couldn’t help but notice how gently Dean took Sam’s hand to slip the ring on. Without thinking about it, John glanced over at Sam’s hand, where that very ring remained. Sam caught him looking, but said nothing.
Dean smiled, “With this ring, I thee wed.”
When it was Sam’s turn to place a ring on Dean, he was just as delicate. “With this ring, I thee wed.”
Their hands lingered together before they turned to the pastor. By the power vested in me by the State of California, witnessed by your friends and family, I now pronounce you husbands. You may now seal your vows with a kiss.
Dean gave a mischievous grin before cupping his husband’s cheeks in his hands, and pulling him down for some tongue action. How very Dean, John thought. Sam snaked his hands around his husband’s waist, and the applause resounded through the hall.
But the recording wasn’t over.
The scene changed to what John assumed to be the reception hall. A few tables with candles in the center circled around a dance floor and a stage. The wedding wasn’t all that large, but the room made the wedding party look a lot larger. Some of their friends said some words to the camera about how wonderful Sam and Dean were together. Bobby recounted the tale of when he caught the boys making out in his spare room (which John kinda laughed at.)
And then the grooms entered, and thanked everyone for coming. It was time for the first dance.
Dean placed his hand in Sam’s slightly larger one as the music started. Sam wrapped his arm around Dean’s waist, and Dean slipped his around Sam’s neck. As they began to sway, Justin Timberlake’s voice cut in:
When the visions around you,
Bring tears to your eyes
And all that surround you,
Are secrets and lies
Dean smiled as they moved together, content to let Sam have the lead. John was slightly surprised at this, but after a moment of thought, he reminded himself that for Dean, Sam’s wants and needs always came first.
I'll be your strength,
I'll give you hope,
Keeping your faith when it's gone
The one you should call,
Was standing here all along…
John didn’t pay any attention to the chorus, too much in awe of the way that Dean placed his head atop Sam’s shoulder. It was a momentary thing, but still so seemingly out of character that John had to notice.
I've loved you forever,
In lifetimes before
And I promise you never...
Will you hurt anymore
I give you my word
I give you my heart (give you my heart)
This is a battle we've won
And with this vow,
Forever has now begun...
John didn’t take his eyes away from the screen during the entire dance. He sat through various people, some he knew, some he didn’t, wish his sons the best of life as a message to the camera. And then the DVD was through.
Sam once again left the couch, returning the DVD to its proper place before spinning around to face his father.
“So…” Sam smiled, taking in the stunned appearance of the once hardened John Winchester.
“It’s a lot different knowing you boys are married and actually seeing the wedding. Just…why don’t we play poker or something?”
Sam smiled knowingly; his dad didn’t do the touching, emotional stuff all that well. “Sure Dad, I’ll go get some cards.”
*******
Dean came home to the sounds of laughter and shuffling card, accompanied by the smell of stir fry. He shrugged off the top of his coveralls and tied them around his waist before slipping into the kitchen and up to the table.
He couldn’t help but smile at the sight before him; his dad, who had a nasty habit of brushing off Sam when they were kids, was actually sitting at the table, very involved in the poker game he and Sam were in the midst of. Dean snuck up behind Sam and wrapped his arms around him, placing a delicate kiss to his cheek.
“Hey, babe.” Dean smirked, momentarily clinging tighter before letting go.
“Hey! Dinner’s done and on the stove. Dad and I ate a while ago.” Sam abandoned the cards to look at him. Their father didn’t seem to mind.
“I’ll eat in a few. I need to go shower. Oh, and after dinner I have to pack.” He then addressed his dad, “When are we heading out?”
“Well, we don’t need to be there until maybe 1700 hours, so I think if we leave around noon, we don’t have to rush.”
“Mmh,” Dean hummed, “I guess that means I get to sleep in.”
“Unfortunately, I have to go back to work. I’ll be up early.” Sam informed him. “I have to meet with the DA.” Dean scowled.
“You better wake me before you leave.” Sam smiled, pulling Dean into another kiss before replying, “Always.”
John coughed slightly, his moderate discomfort still apparent despite his acceptance and understanding. Dean drew away and headed for the bedroom. He had a lot to do before he could go to bed.
*******
Sam puts the finishing touches on his tie before returning to the bed to wake Dean with kisses. The first is to his forehead, which earns Sam a swat (he’s learned to dodge it). When Dean settles, Sam places a second to the bridge of his nose, earning him a slight smirk. The third, placed delicately to Dean’s lips, does the trick, and he opens his brilliantly green eyes.
“Morning, Sammy.” Dean breaks into a full-fledged grin.
“Dude, your breath reeks! Please tell me you brushed your teeth last night!” Sam sighs, backing up. Dean pulls him back down by the blue silk around his neck.
“Course I did. You’re ruining the moment!” Dean presses his lips against his husband’s, trying not to laugh at Sam’s qualms with morning breath.
“I didn’t know we had moments.” Sam reluctantly pulls away, heading for the door. “And I have to leave. I’m running a bit late.”
“Awww, baby! You can’t stay a little longer!” Dean huffed, finally sitting up.
“No! I have to go!” Sam grins, pulling the bedroom door nearly shut before opening it again to say, “Be careful tonight, De.”
Dean rolled his eyes.
“I mean it! I don’t wanna have to get the med kit out when you get home!” Neither of them bothered to mention the “if”. They both knew that hunting was dangerous, and even the most benign hunt could be your last.
“Chill, Sammy, no one’s getting hurt tonight.” Sam returned to kiss Dean again, desperation and worry clinging to his lips like it hadn’t since they were teens.
“I do mean it, Dean.” He whispered, “You get yourself killed, and I’ll bring you back just to kill you again. And I know how to hide a body.”
Dean shuddered at the implications. “You couldn’t kill me, you love me too much.” Dean couldn’t help but kiss him again. “Ugh! Go to work, before I can’t let you go!”
Sam shuffled out of the room, and a few minutes later, Dean heard the apartment door open and close. He set his alarm for 10:30 and settled back down to sleep a while longer.
*******
The drive to Nevada was near silent, but it was okay. The silence wasn’t thick or oppressing; in fact, it was the opposite. Dean hadn’t felt this free to speak to his father in a long time. Even before he and Sam left, he’d been getting a bit skittish about their relationship. Going behind his father’s back was big, and he wasn’t sure that John hadn’t figured it out long before he let on.
He used to be rather paranoid, but it felt nice that Dad was willing to take him hunting, despite all that happened in the past. Electric Light Orchestra blaring from the truck’s speakers, he felt really good.
They arrived plenty in time to hit up a local diner before sundown; Dean ordered the bacon cheeseburger, and John the old-timer burger with extra onions.
“Since when do you get onions, Dad?” Dean can’t remember a time when John didn’t adamantly protest the presence of the vegetable on his sandwiches.
“Taste buds change, I guess.” He shrugged, scanning the scenery outside the window. “Let’s make dinner quick, Dean. It’ll be dark soon and I don’t want to be out there all night.”
“Alright,” Dean agreed, “wanna go over our intel one more time while we wait for our food?
“Sounds good.” John returned his attention to his son and pulled out the folder containing all the information he’d collected.
*******
Sam returned from work to an empty house. Which, of course, was a bit unusual. But knowing exactly where Dean was right now didn’t help. It made him nervous. He sighed as he set his stuff down and changed out of his suit and into his skinny jeans and black, v-neck shirt. He didn’t even think about it, but those were the clothes he wore when he was heading out to his favorite gay bar in Lavender Heights. Usually, he took Dean with him, but he’d been there by himself before, too. It seemed like a perfect distraction for this evening, so he went with it.
In the bathroom, he lined his eyes with black eyeliner, not too thick or too thin, but just enough to make his feline eyes stand out. He ran his fingers through his hair with some water to let it fall into his face a bit, a stark contrast from the more controlled ‘do he donned at work. Grabbing his wallet and his keys, he left the apartment again, intending to have a nice night out. Hopefully, without Dean to protect his virtue, the guys would keep their hands to themselves.
*******
Pulling up to an abandoned building on the run-down side of town, John parked his truck and went to grab a gun for himself out of the weapons compartment in the back. Dean was quick to follow, pulling out the piece he kept in the waistband of his jeans to check the ammo and turn the safety off. There would be no more talking for here on out.
John handed Dean an extra clip of silver bullets, and placed one in his jacket pocket. The air was warm, thus making a jacket impractical for most people, but pockets were somewhat of a necessity for hunters. Dean knew this as well; slipping back on the old, secondhand leather jacket his father had gifted him with at seventeen. Second to the impala, it was the greatest material gift his father had ever given him.
The hunter and his son could hear the werewolves fighting inside. Too many for one area, Dean thought, for how territorial they get. They entered the building as silently as they could, propping the squeaky door open so as not to have to move it again. John headed up the stairs where the noise was coming from, and Dean looked around on ground level.
Finding nothing, and no were’s in sight, Dean headed back to the front and up the stairs. His father had remained out of sight, waiting on him, and signaled to him that he counted five werewolves in the room. John motioned that he’d take the three on the left, leaving Dean the two on the right. Both steadied their aim and fired as quickly and accurately as they could. John hit all three of his marks in quick succession, no time for the creatures to tell what was happening. Dean hit one, and missed the heart on the other. It charged for him.
Quickly thinking, John shot the thing before it could reach his son. They both knew that the hunt was over, but still looked around to see if there was anything else they needed to take care of. Finding nothing, they headed back to the truck.
*******
Sam sat at the bar and ordered himself some chili-cheese fries and a beer. Contrary to what Dean tells everyone, he loves junk food just as much as the next guy. He just eats it sparingly. Unfortunately, he has a nasty habit of overindulging when he’s stressed.
Suddenly, a young man wearing jeans tighter than Sam’s and a band tee slipped into Sam’s personal space. “This seat taken?” He asked, failing to hide his nerves.
“Sorry, kid.” Sam smiled, holding up his left hand, “My husband may not be here with me, but I’m already taken.”
“Oh.” The guy stammered, “Well, can I sit with you anyways. My friends have been nagging me to come over and say hi ever since you walked in.” He indicated a small group in the back, all covertly staring at them.
“Sure. Why not. I’m Sam.” Sam put out his other hand, which the man promptly shook.
“I’m Taylor.” He smiled, taking the stool next to Sam’s. He called the bartender over, and ordered a beer for himself. It came a minute or two after Sam’s food.
When Sam leaves, he’s in a considerably better mood than when he first arrived. Taylor was fantastically conversational, and as it turns out, he works at the same shop Dean does. He only does basic repairs, though. Lost in his own thoughts, he didn’t notice that the four men who were previously on the opposite sidewalk were headed his way.
“Hey!” one of them shouted. Sam nearly jumped out of his skin, snapping his head up for his eyes to meet them.
“Hello,” Sam nodded, assessing the situation. He wasn’t sure yet if he should run, or make conversation. Sometimes it’s hard to tell.
“My buddies and I,” The evident leader of the group started, “we couldn’t help but notice that you just came out of that club over there.”
Sam started to realize that this wasn’t a time for friendly conversation. He needed to get back to his car before they started something. Only having had two beers, he wasn’t anywhere near drunk enough to pick a fight. But he was also just enough intoxicated to make his reaction time a bit slower…concerning if he did end up in a fight with them.
“Yeah, I did leave from the club. I’m just gonna head home.” Sam tried to move through two of the men to his right, one taller than him and built; the other, plump but overbearing. They moved to make his passage difficult. Sam tried to pass between the leader and stretch, and had no more luck than he did on his first attempt.
His heart started to race a bit as he realized he was probably going to fight his way through.
“Let me through.” He tried, putting all the authority and control he could manage into it as a last ditch effort before resorting to throwing punches. The third man, shorter and leaner than the rest, placed a firm hand upon his shoulder as the leader spat, “You’re not going anywhere, you filthy queer. Me and my buddies don’t like your kind. It’s time you learned to quit spreading your filth in our city!”
Sam quickly grasped the wrist of the man behind him (who he dubbed “shadow”, for the fact he hadn’t seen the guy’s face yet) and spun around, taking him to the ground before throwing his right hook to leader’s jaw. Beefy and Stretch wrestled him roughly to the cement, pinning his shoulders and arms as best they could while Shadow grabbed his legs.
Combined, they had just enough weight on him to effectively keep him down. He struggled fruitlessly to break free, twisting and bucking to try to throw them off. Leader loomed over him, disgust evident in his face.
“I told you you weren’t going anywhere.” A solid blow to his ribs with a steel-toed boot, by the feel of it, made itself known immediately. “Struggling is just going to make it worse for you.”
Sam turned his head, a last ditch effort to protect some part of himself, as fists rained down upon his exposed anterior. He closed his eyes, focused on the breathing as best he could, and blocked out the pain. He was so far away…so lost within himself. When he finally returned, he was looking up into the eyes of a very worried Taylor. His head rested in the younger man’s lap, and he vaguely registered being told not to move; that the paramedics were on their way.
Sam’s eyes slipped closed again as the darkness overtook him.
*******
John put his guns back into the special weapons compartment in the back of the truck before heading to the cab. Dean simply returned his to the back of his pants. Despite the number of werewolves they took out, the job had been easy. Neither man cared to think about Dean’s faulty aim. It was barely 10:00 pm when they got back on the highway.
“You did good back there, boy.” John smiled, patting Dean on the shoulder.
Dean smirked back, “Thanks, Dad.”
“Maybe, uh, we can hunt again sometime.” John hazarded. Truthfully, he’d enjoyed having Dean at his side again. It would feel weird to go back to hunting solo after the night they had.
“Maybe. But right now, I’m eager to get home to my husband.” He rested his head in the palm of his hand, propped up on the windowsill. So content in his thoughts of Sam, he nearly missed his father calling him a “sap.” But he didn’t mind; it was 100% true. He’d always be sappy when it came to Sam.
Speaking of, Dean’s phone rang, the guitar rift emanating from the speaker of his mobile device easily cutting through the song on the radio. The caller ID identified it as Sam.
“Hey, Sammy, we’re heading back now.”
“Not Sam. It’s Andrew, from the firm.” A rush of panic settled uncomfortably at the pit of Dean’s stomach at those words.
“Why do you have Sam’s phone?” John perked up at that and quickly turned down the radio to listen.
“I’m at the hospital, and one of the nurses gave it to me to call you. Sam got here by ambulance about an hour ago, but they’re not telling much.”
Dean roughly rubbed his hand over his face before asking, “What do you know?”
“They’re saying that he was attacked by some guys after leaving that club you guys go to. They won’t tell me about his physical condition since I’m not family, but I do know they brought him up for surgery.”
Dean’s breathing quickened as he listened to Sam’s co-worker speak. This was not happening. This couldn’t happen! Sam knows how to defend himself, and he never gets sloppy drunk, so he couldn’t have been too gone to fight.
“I’m in Nevada, but I’m headed back now. I’ll be there as quick as I can. Which hospital?”
“Sutter General.”
“Okay. Uh, if you do get to see him, let him know I’m on my way.”
“Alright, Dean. Just…drive safe, okay? It’ll do Sam no good if you get in a wreck on the way over.”
“Will do.” With that, Dean hung up the phone and took a breath before turning to his father.
“So?” John prompted, alternating from looking at the road and his son.
“Sam’s been attacked. He’s at the hospital, and in surgery.” John pulled over at the sight of Dean’s panic.
“Dean, talk to me.” He shook Dean’s shoulders. Meanwhile, Dean was struggling for breath, white knuckling the edges of the seat. He shook his head in response. “You need to breathe, Son. He’ll be alright. We’re gonna get there. Just breathe.”
He began to rub circles into his son’s back in an attempt to soothe. He’d never seen Dean have a panic attack before, so he didn’t know what else to do. “Sammy will be fine, Dean.”
That seemed to break through to him, and his breathing became a bit less strained. “Let’s get back to California, huh? I’ll bet that he’ll be waiting for us when we get there.”
“He…he was at the club, Dad. There’s no way this wasn’t a homophobic attack.” John didn’t have anything to say to that. He was too pissed off now that he’d gotten Dean to calm down.
He sped, and hoped like hell there were no cops or state troopers on the way.
*******
Sam woke to the beeping sounds of machines, and the feel of Dean’s warm hand in his. The second he opened his eyes, Dean was up and out of his seat, leaning over him in a way that made it so he didn’t have to move to see him.
“Hey.” Sam croaked, noting how bad he sounded. “How’d the hunt go.”
“We kicked ass.” John piped in, making his presence known.
“That’s great.” He smiled before closing his eyes again.
“Hey, Sammy, don’t fall asleep on me. I…I need for you to stay with me.” Dean’s voice wasn’t so steady, now that Sam thought about it. He opened his eyes to see that Dean was crying.
“De?” Sam asked, bringing his other hand up to wipe away the tears, “Why’re you cry’n?”
“They hurt you, Sam. You had internal bleeding, broken ribs, broken arm and leg…” Dean trailed off.
Just then, one of the two nurses from the ward gave them a dirty look, and heaven help her, John saw it.
“Hey!” He called, “You got a problem?” She walked in, all attitude, rather unbecoming for a nurse.
“Yeah, I do. I’d rather not see a couple of faggots all over each other, if that’s alright.”
“These ‘fagots,’ as you called them, are my son and his husband! They have as much right to console each other in the hospital as any other married couple!” John looked about ready to punch her before Andrew, Sam’s coworker, and a blonde haired nurse stepped in.
“Rachel, the head nurse wants to see you.” She bit out, before turning back to John. “You’re Sam’s father, right?”
“Yeah.” He forced his voice to be somewhat more normal; this nurse hadn’t done anything wrong, after all.
“Rachel had been Sam’s nurse, but after what we all just saw happen, I’ll be taking over. I assure you it won’t happen again, and she will face consequences.”
Meanwhile, John saw Nurse Rachel pass by again, belongings in hand, looking rather angry.
“What can you tell me about my boy?” John returned his attention to the new nurse.
“I can tell you that his surgery went well, but I’ll have to get his doctor if you want to know more.” John nodded, and she departed. Andrew stepped further into the room.
“The cops just picked up the guys who did this. They got enough DNA evidence off of Sam to confirm that they were repeat offenders already in the system. I think, given the evidence and the willingness for the witness to testify, it’s likely none of those guys will see the outside of a prison gate for a very long time.” Andrew informed them without being prompted. Dean nodded once before placing his head back down on Sam’s bed. Sam said nothing, but returned to running his fingers through Dean’s hair as he had been doing before Andrew stepped forward.
“You’re a lawyer, right?” John asked.
“Yes, sir.”
“Are you gonna make sure that it happens?” John inquired. If need be, he’d ensure they never hurt anyone again, but getting a lawyer to do it would be easier.
“No, actually. Since Sam and I work together, it’s conflict of interest. I’ve called a friend of mine down in San Francisco to defend Sam.”
This answer seemed to appease John, and Sam let out a weak “thank you” before Andrew left the room.
John turned back to see Dean delicately placing his lips to Sam’s while he brushed a tear off his husband’s face. But he knew that the tears were not all Sam’s. Saline trails glistened on Dean’s face, which Sam drew his good hand up to wipe away, returning the favor. John felt like an outsider in this all-consuming love so prominently on display by his sons. But that was okay; he was just glad that they were both alive, and safe within each other’s grasp.
Epilogue