Leave All Your Love And Your Longing Behind 3.06-3.09

[spiceblueeyes]

3.06 Red Sky At Morning

Sam, Ben and Dean all sat at the kitchen table, lore book spread out in front of them. Ben had already finished his homework for school, and so now Sam and Dean were teaching him things about the supernatural. It had become part of the routine whenever Dean and Sam were home. Ben would come home from school, have a snack, do his homework, and then have his supernatural lessons. Sam had gone all out organizing the curriculum. Dean mocked his lessons plans and study guides, but followed them most of the time. Today they were learning about death omens.

“Okay, so death omens,” Dean said. “They’re things people see before they die. A death omen can be a person, or a thing, this last hunt we had, the death omen was a ship. If a person saw one it meant they were going to die soon.”

Sam continued, “Death omens appear for a reason, there’s usually a link between the people who see it, something they have in common.”

“What did the people who saw the ship have in common?” Ben asked.

“Ah, well, they all killed members of their own family.” Dean said. Ben’s eyes widened.

“Why?”

“Different reasons,” Sam said. “For one girl it was an accident. Two other guys killed their dad for money, and Bela, well,” he looked at Dean and shrugged. “Who knows what Bela’s story is.”

If Sam had had any doubts as to how sharp a kid Ben was, they would have been dispelled at the way he picked up on Sam’s use of the present tense.”

“Bela’s still alive? And she saw the death omen?”

“Yeah, we saved the bitch.” Dean said. Sam elbowed his brother for swearing, but it was really just a lost cause by now. Dean just elbowed him back. “I don’t know why, she had my car towed, you don’t mess with a man’s wheels like that. You just don’t.” Dean shook his head.

“What?” Ben straightened. “She took your car!” He hopped up out of his seat and ran to the living room, peering out the window at the driveway to make sure the Impala was there, even though he must have seen it earlier. He came back looking reassured. “You should have wasted her.” He said, making little finger guns and pretending to shoot. “Pow, pow, pow.”

“I can’t disagree with you.” Dean said, smirking.

“Dean,” Sam sighed. “Ben, you can’t kill people because they make you mad.”

Ben rolled his eyes and lifted himself back into his chair. “I know, dude, I was kidding.”

“Yeah, Sam, lighten up.” Dean teased and he and Ben both chuckled.

“She took his car, man, so not cool.” Ben raised his arms and held his hands out, as if begging Sam to see his point. He was being dramatic in the way only an eight year old can pull off while looking sincere at the same time.

“It is a cool car.” Sam conceded.

“Cool? Dude that car is awesome! I’m gonna get one just like it when I grow up.” Ben said. Sam looked over at Dean, who suddenly seemed somber.

“Yeah, maybe you will.” Dean said. He looked at Sam, a request in his eyes. It wasn’t hard to figure out what Dean wanted.

“Maybe Dean will give you his car when he gets old and can’t drive anymore.” Sam said, telling Dean that he wasn’t entertaining the idea of not getting him out of the deal.

“Really? You’ll give me the car when you get old and fugly?” Ben looked at Dean, hopeful.

Dean narrowed his eyes at Sam before answering Ben. “First,” he held up a finger, “I will never be old and fugly. I am too awesome for that.” Dean put his hand down, “Second, I was actually planning on giving the car to Sam as a present for when he finally becomes cool.” He clapped his hand on Sam’s shoulder briefly. “But maybe when you’re old enough Sam will pass the car onto you.” Dean’s eyes looked at Sam, beseeching, and Ben turned his hopeful gaze from Dean to Sam.

Under the weight of both their stares Sam caved. “Yeah, that could happen.”

“Yes!” Ben pumped his fists into the air. “I’m gonna be the coolest grown-up ever!” Dean laughed and his smiled crinkled the skin at the corners of his eyes. He looked happy.

Sam let Dean take point on the rest of the lesson and thought about the Impala. That car meant more to Dean than anyone who hadn’t lived their life could possibly know. It was his home. Sam knew that when-no, if,-- if Dean died when his Deal came due than Dean would want him to have the Impala. It was Sam’s history and Sam’s home too. What Dean had just asked him though, was when Ben was old enough, to give him the car. The idea made Sam want to go cry in a corner, but his eyes stayed dry, he made sure of it. The car, in a way, was an integral part of Dean. It would be like giving up one of the only things he’d have left of his brother, but at the same time it would be giving Ben something of his Father’s. Dean didn’t have much he would be leaving behind; the car was the biggest thing. It would be something Ben could have and remember him by, and if how Ben talked about the car now was any indication, it would be cared for and appreciated.



Lisa came home from work and put her keys on the hook by the door. She walked into the kitchen and dropped her purse on the counter, looking at Ben bent over thick books with Sam and Dean. Ben couldn’t read the books yet, some of them were in Latin, and even the ones that weren’t were above his reading level, but a lot of them had illustrations that he could look at.

“Hey, Mom,” Ben said, waving.

“Hey, honey.” She waved back. Sam nodded at her and then brought Ben’s attention back to whatever they were doing. Dean stood up.

“Be right back guys, gotta talk to your mom about something.” He ruffled Ben’s hair, which made Ben scowl as he smoothed it back down.

Lisa raised her eyebrow, “What’s up?”

“Let’s talk in the living room.” He said, putting one hand on her elbow and guiding her to the other room.

“Nothing bad, I promise.” He smiled at her. He went over to his jacket, which was lying on the arm of the couch and reached for the inside pocket. When he pulled his hand out he was holding two big bundles of money.

“What is that?” She asked, then mentally chastised herself for asking such a stupid question.

“10,000 dollars.” Dean said, grinning.

“Where did you get it?” Which really meant is it legal?

“From a woman with more daddy issues than a hooker in church. Don’t worry, it’s legit.” He said, “Sam and I got paid for out last hunt, kind of. And we were thinking we could put it into an account, you know, for Ben?”

“For Ben?” Lisa was a little stunned. Dean and Sam had never given her any money before, which didn’t really bother her too much. They helped out around the house when they were here, and saving people from monsters wasn’t really a paying gig. She made enough from her small yoga studio to not worry about money so much.

“Yeah, you know. For the future if he wants to go to college, or buy a car, or whatever.” He waved his hand, indicating that the money could be for anything.

“That’s, that’s really generous of you.” Lisa said. She knew Sam and Dean didn’t have any money of their own; they survived by hustling pool and credit card scams. They also lifted the occasional wallet from people Dean considered ‘douchebags.’ For them to give up real cash was a big deal. Lisa realized all over again how lucky she and Ben were to know this man, and how lucky she was to have met him all those years ago. She could have ended up hooking up with a guy who never would have cared about her and Ben, but instead they got Dean. Who, when he found out he had a son, came to protect them, teach them how to protect themselves, and tried his best everyday to be a father.

Dean shrugged, “It’s not a big deal. I just thought Ben should have it, for later.” He held the money out to her and she took it.

“Thank you.” She said, it felt inadequate, but she wasn’t sure what else to say. He waved it off.

“Like I said, it’s not a big deal.” He headed back to the kitchen, leaving her alone in the living room. She looked down at the money in her hands and wondered how many times Dean and Sam almost died without anyone thanking them for it, let alone paying them. It must be a hard life.

She followed Dean back into the kitchen a few seconds later and put the money in her purse to take to the bank tomorrow. Then she set about making one of those home-cooked meals that meant so much to all her boys. She wasn’t always so great with words, and even if she was could say them properly the Winchesters weren’t the type to sit still for them. But appreciation through food? That she could do.

3.07 Fresh Blood

Sam watched from the window, a beer in his hand, as Dean showed Ben the engine of the Impala. They had the hood propped up and Ben, who was a little too short to see into the car on his own, was standing on top of a stepladder. He could see Dean pointing to things, and his mouth moving as he explained whatever it was. Ben was paying rapt attention, clearly excited to be spending time with both Dean and the Impala, the two things in his life he idolized. Dean was also clearly enjoying himself, passing on his knowledge to someone who appreciated it.

When they’d been driving back from this last, near-disastrous, hunt, Dean had started teaching Sam more about the Impala. Sam had thrown out the suggestion that Ben would probably like some lessons in the classic car too, and while Dean hadn’t said anything, he’d obviously thought it was a good idea.

Lisa came up next to him and stared out the window as well. “Dean looks really happy,” she said.

“They both do.” Sam smiled. “Sometimes I wonder what they see that I don’t, cause I really only see a car.” His brow furrowed. Dean wanted to leave the Impala to him, and if it came to that, Sam would take good care of it. But he’d never care about it because of what it was, only because of who it represented.

Lisa shrugged, “Me too, but everyone has something they care about that other people don’t get.”

Sam looked sideways at her, “Oh yeah, what’s your thing?”

She chuckled, “I love rock music, the classic stuff.”

“That’s not so weird,” Sam said. “Hell, Dean loves that stuff, as I’m sure you’ve noticed.”

She laughed, “Oh, I noticed. It’s what drew me to him in the first place.”

Sam turned away from the window to look at her. “Really? You know I don’t think I ever heard the story of how you two met.” He took a pull from his bottle, hoping to hear the story now. A glimpse into who his brother was when he was young, and away from Dad and his own influence.

She stopped watching to two by the car as well, “It’s not such an exciting story. It was at some biker bar, I was young, still in college, and he was hot.”

Lisa pulled open the door to the bar and stepped inside, feeling it close behind her. The warmth hit her right away and she sighed in relief, it was early February and the cold air was brutal outside.

She headed straight for the bar, it was Friday and after the week she’d had a drink was definitely needed. That, and possibly a guy to take home, if there was anyone who piqued her interest.

She slid up onto the bar stool and ordered a slippery nipple, because it tasted good and she liked ordering it. It always made Mike, the bartender, smile. “You know,” he said to her, “you should branch out, try something new sometime.”

“Nah, I like my nipples.” She teased him. Mike had worked here since before Lisa had found the place, and since she came at least once a week for the last three and a half years, they’d grown to know each other pretty well.

Biker bars weren’t usually the popular college hang outs, and that’s one of the reasons she like this place. She also liked the slightly dingy atmosphere, the colorful tattoos, and the fact that it had a jukebox, with mostly rock on it. She could sit and relax after a long week without listening to Enrique Iglesias or Mandy Moore making her want to pour acid into her ears.

Except that she almost choked on her drink as she heard the first part of “Hit Me Baby, One More Time” come on. The whole rest of the bar was in shock too, not that there were many people in yet. There was a collective stillness as everyone turned to look at the idiot standing in front of the jukebox, who seemed oblivious. Lisa was amazed that Britney Spears was even on the playlist, and raised her eyebrows at Mike. He shrugged sheepishly, “Lost a bet, had to put it on there for two weeks.” She shook her head at him, letting her disgust show in her face.

“You have got to be shitting me,” a male voice said. It came from a man sitting at a booth in the corner. “You did not seriously just press play on that.”

The idiot at the jukebox turned to face the other guy, “Why, what’s wrong with it?” He smirked. The guy in the booth eased himself up, and he was hot. Leather jacket, green eyes, boots and slight bowlegs. He also looked dangerous, which wasn’t a turn off either.

“I should kick your ass for even asking that question.” Bowlegs said.

“Yeah?” The idiot challenged.

“Hell yeah.” Bowlegs said. Challenge accepted. Lisa saw Mike getting nervous behind the bar.

“If you’re gonna start anything, take it outside.” He said.

Bowlegs nodded and walked to the door, holding it open and sweeping his arm in the air, “Ladies first.”

Idiot bristled and stomped outside, Bowlegs followed, and they disappeared to the side, out of sight. A couple people got up, like they wanted to go outside and watch the fight, but before they even got to the door there were a couple thuds and then the soft but audible thunk of a body hitting the ground. Bowlegs walked back inside with a satisfied grin and made his way back to his seat. It looked like Idiot had been over matched. She might feel bad for him if he hadn’t clearly brought it on himself.

Lisa turned to Mike, “Gimme a beer.” He set one in front of her and cocked his head.

“You sure you know what you’re doing?” He asked.

“Nope.” She flashed a grin at him and grabbed the beer. Standing up, she walked over to Bowlegs, nice and slow so he could see her coming and appreciate her strut properly. When she reached his table he was looking at her with anticipation. She set the beer in front of him, next to the one he already held in his hand. “I think you deserve another beer for that,” she said.

“Oh yeah,” He cocked an eyebrow, “I thought bad boys don’t get rewards.”

“Ah, but valiant defenders of good taste do.” Lisa said. Bowlegs laughed and gestured for her to have a seat, so she slid into the booth across from him. “I’m Lisa.”

“Dean, Dean Winchester.” He replied, finishing his first beer and opening the new one.

“So, Dean, you get in a lot of bar fights?” she asked.

He took a sip of his beer and licked his lips, “I don’t start ‘em, I just finish ‘em.”

“Yeah,” Lisa said. “How would you feel about finishing that,” she pointed to his beer, “at my place?”

He grinned, slow and sexy, “I think I’d feel pretty good about it.”

Lisa watched him get up and go to the bar to settle his tab; damn that ass was hot. She met him at the door and this time when he held the door open the lady was happy to go first.

“Dean knocked some guy out for playing Britney Spears?” Sam was a little incredulous. “Seems like overkill.”

Lisa laughed, “He was my hero, and I took him home for the night and he ended up staying for the whole weekend.” She smiled at the memory.

“Well, it clearly made an impression on Dean since he remembered you enough to look you up eight years later.” Sam said.

“Yeah, we had some good times.” She saw the appraising look on Sam’s face. “And it wasn’t just the sex, though that was pretty awesome. We hung out too, watched bad horror movies and made fun of them. He would make up new drinks and I’d give them dirty names. It was fun.” She shrugged.

Sam turned to look out the window again, Dean was doing something to the engine with a wrench and Ben was bent almost in half, trying to get the best view. “I’m glad Dean had that, you know?” Lisa looked at him curiously. “We were raised as soldiers, Dean especially. There wasn’t a lot of fun in his life so he learned to make his own fun.”

Lisa nodded. “Yeah, sometimes he acts like a big kid, like he’s Ben’s age. And then other times…” She let the sentence hang, but Sam knew what she meant. Sometimes Dean got this look in his eyes that made him seem a hundred years old and world weary, courtesy of being at war since he was four.

Sam and Lisa watched Dean and Ben in silence after that, fond smiles on their faces. Dean handed the wrench over to Ben, who took it with excited reverence and leaned into the car to try for himself. Dean watched, observing and instructing, with a proud smile. Sam loved watching Dean with Ben, his brother came alive in a way Sam had never seen before.

Finally he nodded to Lisa and left the window, he had more research to do if he was going to save Dean.

3.08 A Very Supernatural Christmas (AU)

Lisa watched Ben at the table. He had his headphones on, the sides of which were big enough to completely cover his ears. She could hear the chords of AC/DC’s Thunderstruck from where she was standing and hoped he didn’t grow up to be deaf because his mom let him listen to rock music at the volume it was meant to be listened to. Ben’s feet and legs were swinging under the table, and his head was bobbing along to the beat. He was working on his Christmas list, pencil in hand and paper in front of him, writing carefully in block letters.

She turned and walked back to the living room where Sam and Dean were arguing. Dean was in the chair with a beer and Sam was on the couch with a lore book on his lap. “Sam, it’s Christmas. We should have a tree.” Dean said.

“Why? We’ve never had one before.”

“Because it’s Christmas, Sam, and we need a Christmas tree!” Lisa could tell by his tone that Dean was tired of debating this with Sam.

“Christmas trees have more to do with Pagan religion than Christianity, Dean. And it’s not like we even go to church.” Sam scowled.

“What about Ben, doesn’t he deserve a tree?” Dean said. That gave Sam pause.

Lisa interrupted before things got ugly. “Boys, Ben and I have had a tree every year, and we’re having one this year. If you don’t want to help pick it out or decorate it that’s fine. But we’re having one.” She arched an eyebrow, daring Sam to challenge her on it. He didn’t.

It was weird; ever since the Christmas season had started Sam had been in a bad mood, his infamous ‘bitchface’ appearing with increasing frequency. Dean and Ben had started calling him ‘The Boy Who Hates Christmas.’ But whatever his problem was, she wasn’t going to let him ruin it for the rest of them.

Dean smiled, “Alright, Lisa! Wanna head out and get that tree tonight?” Dean asked.

“Sure, why not. Sam, you coming?” Lisa said. Sam shook his head ‘no’ and lowered his head back into his book. Dean rolled his eyes. “I’ll let Ben know.”

She headed back toward the kitchen and crept up behind Ben, feeling playful. There was no way he could hear her with his headphones blasting like that. She crouched down and wrapped her arms around him lightning fast. “Boo!”

“Ahhhh!” Ben jumped and screamed, and then started laughing as she moved her hands under his arms and started to tickle him. “Mom!, Ah, hahaha, Mom stop! Haha, Mom!”

She granted mercy and stopped, letting go and standing up straight. Ben was left panting in the chair. “Mom, not cool.” He shook his head. She smiled and ruffled his hair, which he immediately reached up to fix.

“Aw, you love it.” She smiled.

“Whatever,” he said, but he was smiling too.

“We’re going tonight to pick out the tree.” Lisa told him.

“Awesome, are Dean and Sam coming?” Ben craned his head back to look at her.

“Dean is but Sam is staying home.”

Ben rolled his eyes, a perfect copy of Dean. “He’s being all ‘Boy Who Hates Christmas’ again isn’t he?” He huffed.

“Yeah, he is. But it’s okay, we’ll still get the best tree.” Lisa said. “Did you finish your list?” She reached past Ben to pick up the paper in front of him, reading it over.

“Yeah, I think so. If I think of anything else I’ll write it later.” Ben said. He hopped off the chair and headed out to the living room, probably to tease Sam about not going to get the tree with them.

Lisa read the list and her heart squeezed in her chest. The first things on the list were expected. New video games and cds, some movies, a motorcycle that he knew he wasn’t going to get. But the last thing broke her heart a little.

-ipod
-motorcycle (Harly Davidson)
-Dean to be my dad.



Lisa and Dean picked up bits of tinsel and tissue paper from the floor. They’d brought the tree home and put it up. Lisa had taken all her ornaments out of storage and they’d decorated it together. They’d all ganged up on Sam and convinced him to help too, throwing wads of paper at him until he gave in with a laugh.

Now Sam was upstairs with Ben, getting him ready for bed, and Dean was helping clean up the mess that was the result of tree decoration and the subsequent tissue paper fight. As Lisa stuffed the last bit of paper into a cardboard box she looked over at Dean, who had plopped onto the sofa and was staring at the tree with something close to awe.

“Dean? Can I talk to you about something?” Lisa said.

Dean’s eyes snapped over to her, instantly full of wariness. She winced at the phrasing she’d used, guaranteed to put Dean on his guard. “Sure.” The easy way he said it belied the look in his eyes.

“I was thinking that we could tell Ben you’re his father.” She said, watching carefully to see how he reacted to the idea. Originally they’d decided not to tell Ben that Dean was his father. Lisa hadn’t been sure Dean would stick around and didn’t want to risk it. Dean hadn’t fought her on it, and she didn’t really know his reasons why.

Dean’s eyes widened and he grew very still. “What?”

Lisa pulled out the Christmas list Ben had made earlier that day from her pocket. She unfolded it and handed it to him. She watched his eyes scan it, and knew when he got to the last item on the list when his face froze and his hand reached up to rub at his chest like it hurt. “He wrote this?”

It was a rhetorical question, but Lisa answered anyway. “Yes.”

He lifted his eyes from the paper and looked at her. “And you, you’re okay with it?” he asked.

Lisa smiled, “Yeah. I thought about it and I am, okay with it.” She moved to sit next to him on the couch. “The reasons that I didn’t want to tell him in the first place don’t really seem valid anymore. I know you well enough now that I know you’re not going to just disappear on us.”

He seemed to draw back as she said that. “I, you know, what we do, me and Sam,” Dean ran his hands through his hair. “It’s dangerous. We could, I could disappear,” he said.

Lisa reached out and took his hand, wrapping it in both of hers, “But I know you won’t want to. You’re a soldier, Dean. Sometimes soldiers don’t come back. But you’re not some guy who’s just here to freeload and play with Ben’s head.” She squeezed his hand, “And this way if something ever happens to you, he’ll remember you as his father, and not this cool guy who lived with us.”

Dean closed his eyes for a second, and then opened them to look at her. They were bright with moisture, though she knew he wasn’t going to let himself cry in front of her. “I’d like that.”

She smiled, “Do you want to tell him, or should I?”

He considered it, “We can do it together, but the words should probably come from you.”

She nodded, agreeing. “You know,” she said. “I think this will be Ben’s best Christmas.” Lisa leaned in and kissed his cheek, then released his hand and stood up. “I think I’m gonna head to bed.” Dean nodded, still processing their decision. She left him on the couch, and on her way upstairs passed Sam on his way down. She knew Dean would fill him in; that Sam was going to be an official uncle.

She felt like when they told Ben the truth everything would change, and yet nothing was going to change at all.



Sam followed Dean into the house. A couple days earlier he’d found signs of something going on over in Ypsilanti, Michigan so he and Dean had gone over to check it out. At first they’d thought it was some sort of anti-Klaus, but when Dean called Bobby to invite him to Christmas at their house he’d asked his opinion on the case as well. Bobby called them morons, and then set them on the right track to kill the two pagan gods that were taking people as sacrifices. They’d come perilously close to not coming home at all, tied up in some sort of twisted version of Martha Stewart’s kitchen, if Martha Stewart was into human sacrifice. As it was, Mr. and Mrs. Pagan God were dead, buried, salted, burned, and Sam and Dean were home in time for Christmas. They rolled in the driveway at 5am Christmas morning and were able to get about two hours of sleep before Ben was up, excited to see what Santa had brought him.

Ben had asked a couple of weeks ago if Santa was real like ghosts were real. Dean had opened his mouth to answer, and Sam could tell by the look on his face that he was about to tell the truth. Lisa had apparently seen it too, and she’d stepped on Dean’s foot and smoothly told Ben that ‘of course Santa was real’ and ‘no, he’s not evil like the changelings were’ while Dean glared at her.

So Ben crept into Sam and Dean’s room, eager to wake everyone up since he wasn’t allowed to open presents until everyone was awake and downstairs. Sam was woken with a pillow tossed at him from a few feet away. When they’d first started sleeping here Dean and Sam had explained to Ben that it wasn’t a good idea to startle them awake if he didn’t want to get hurt. After one memorable morning when a sleepy, mostly unconscious Dean had pulled the knife he kept under his pillow on Lisa, Ben had taken the lesson to heart.

Sam opened his eyes just in time to see a teddy bear hit him in the face. He groaned, “Ben, what time is it?”

“Christmas time! Dude, get up, I wanna see what I got!” Ben literally bounced in his eagerness to get downstairs. “Mom’s makin’ coffee. Last one up doesn’t get any!” Ben cackled and disappeared from the room. Sam could hear him thump down the stairs.

He picked up the teddy bear and tossed it over to Dean’s bed. Dean didn’t move, but Sam knew he was awake because the arm that had his hand under his pillow tensed, and Sam knew it meant Dean was gripping his knife. “Dean, we have’ta get up.” Sam mumbled. Dean’s arm relaxed at his voice.

“Screw you.” Dean wasn’t a morning person, especially when they’d gotten so little sleep.

“It’s Christmas.” Sam said. “Lisa’s making coffee.” He sat up and rubbed his eyes. “Come on Dean.”

Dean picked his head up and looked at Sam, “Coffee?”

“Yeah, coffee and an eight-year old on Christmas morning. If that doesn’t wake us up I don’t know what will.” Dean huffed out what might have been a laugh if he wasn’t so tired.

Dean moved slowly, pushing himself up. “What time izzit?” He slurred.

Sam looked at the digital clock on the nightstand; red numbers stared back at him. “About seven.” He said, rubbing his eyes. He made himself get out of bed and get dressed. When he was moderately presentable Dean had only progressed to the ‘five more minutes’ stage and was still lying down on his back with his eyes closed. “Dean.” Sam said, “get up man.” Dean nodded yes, shook his head no, and then gave him the finger. Yeah, Dean was tired. “Fine.” Sam grabbed the edge of the covers and yanked hard. They came completely off the bed, settling into a pile on the floor.

“Sam!” Dean sat up and glared angrily, which was less than threatening than usual when Dean was wearing boxers and a t-shirt with his hair sticking up in all directions. He pointed a finger, “Not cool, asshole.”

Sam smirked, feeling more awake already. He bundled the blankets up in his arms. “I’ll be taking these with me, as insurance. “You be downstairs in five minutes or I’ll tell Ben he can start opening presents without you.” Sam turned to leave and a pillow hit him in the back.

When he got downstairs Lisa was pouring coffee into a mug in the kitchen, when she looked up and saw him she smiled and handed it right over. “You look like you could use this.” She said. Sam took it gratefully and immediately added sugar and cream. “Where’s Dean?”

Sam took his first sip, savored it. Then said, “He’s coming, just being slow. We had a long night.”

She nodded, “I didn’t even hear you guys come in last night, and I was up until Bobby got here which was about two am.”

“That’s cause we didn’t get here until this morning, around five.” Sam said.

Lisa grimaced in sympathy, “I’ll put some more coffee on.”

“Thanks,” Sam smiled, “Where’s Ben and Bobby?” He asked, taking another big gulp of coffee.

“Ben is in the living room salivating over his presents and Bobby’s making sure he doesn’t drown in his own drool.” Lisa said.

Sam laughed, “Poor Bobby.”

Lisa shrugged, “You know, I think he likes it. That’s one man who was born to be a grandfather.” Sam paused, he’d never thought of Bobby that way, but now that she said it…yeah. Yeah, he could see that.

There were thumping noises on the stairs and Dean stumbled his way into the kitchen. Lisa held out a large mug full off delicious nectar and he reached out and took it, taking a big gulp right away. “Morning, Dean. Merry Christmas.” Lisa said.

Dean smiled, clearly in a better mood now that he was more awake and had coffee in his hands. “Merry Christmas.” Sam saw Lisa’s smile grow even wider, and he wondered why the hell his brother seemed so reluctant to take their relationship to the next level. She wanted it, Sam could see it in the way she looked at Dean, and the way she talked about him, the way her touches lingered when they didn’t on anyone else. But Dean was being a perfect gentleman, which made Sam snort inwardly, as he had never thought he would use ‘Dean’ and ‘gentleman’ in the same sentence.

“Ready to get started?” Lisa asked both of them. They each nodded and drank more coffee, slightly apprehensive, but excited as well. This was the first “normal” Christmas they’d ever had. There was a real tree and a wreath on the door that wasn’t made of beer cans. Sam loved it and hated it at the same time. It was great to finally get the Christmas he’d spent years dreaming about as a kid, but he couldn’t stop thinking of Dean’s deal, and how this could be his last Christmas. It scared him, and when he was scared, Sam got pissy. Which was why Dean and Ben had been all over his case the last couple of weeks. But this was Christmas morning, and for today Sam decided to just put everything else aside and enjoy it.

Sam followed the other two into the living room. Bobby was in an armchair and Ben was kneeling in front of the tree, practically vibrating. Lisa and Dean took the couch, and while Sam could have fit as well he chose to sit on the floor with his back to it, letting his legs stretch out in front of him.

Bobby raised his eyebrows at them when they walked in. “So you boys finally decided to get out your lazy asses out of bed, huh?”

Dean glared over the top of his coffee mug. “Screw you, old man. We were up way past your bedtime last night.”

Bobby grumbled, but whatever he said was lost under Ben’s shout. “Dudes! You took for freaking ever!” He hopped up and looked expectantly at Lisa. “Can we open presents now, mom?”

“Go for it.” Lisa said. Ben grinned and dropped back to his knees in front of the tree. He started pulling out the brightly wrapped presents one by one.

Ben read the tag on each one. “This one’s for Sam.” He brought the first present over to Sam and deposited it in front of him, then went back for more. The next one was for Lisa, and then, “This one’s mine!” He tore the wrapping paper to get to the present inside. It was a framed poster of AC/DC, with the words Back in Black under the band name. “Yes! AC/DC rules!”

Sam heard Dean mutter “Déjà vu,” behind him.

“Who is it from?” Lisa asked Ben.

“Um…” Ben searched the wreckage of wrapping paper for the tag. He found it and read out, “To Ben, from Santa.”

Sam heard Dean mutter “Santa” under his breath and elbowed his brother’s legs in warning. They’d had the Santa discussion, and Christmas day was not the time to burst the kids bubble. Lisa must have heard him too because Dean gave a soft “ow,” and rubbed his shoulder.

Meanwhile, Ben had carefully placed his new poster to the side and gone back to pulling presents out from under the tree. When he found one that was to someone else he gave it to them, and when he came to one that was for him he opened it right away. The adults didn’t touch their presents yet, in unspoken agreement to wait until Ben was done opening his. There’s nothing like watching a kid on Christmas morning, and no one wanted to miss the show.

Dean had got Ben his own set of tools so that he could help work on the Impala, and Ben loved them. He opened the case and took each tool out with a “Yes!” When he was done he put them all back into the red toolbox reverently, careful to make sure they went in the appropriate slots.

Next was the gift from Sam, it was a leather jacket that almost exactly matched Dean’s. Ben would grow out of it in a year or so, but in the meantime the pictures of Ben and Dean wearing matching outfits would be adorable (he’d gotten Lisa a camera, just to make sure it was properly documented). Predictably, Ben loved it, and put it on right away.

“Dude, Dean, it’s just like yours!” Ben was thrilled to have something in common with his idol. He tossed the box it came in to the side and went back to his presents, the top part of his batman pajamas now covered by the leather jacket. He opened more presents from Santa, Bobby and Lisa. Bobby’s present to Ben was an amulet, and it brought Sam back to all those years ago when he’d given Dean his amulet. Dean hadn’t taken it off for more than a shower since then, and from the way Ben was looking at his own amulet, it was like father, like son once again.

Ben’s amulet was a hamsa carved into coral, strung on a black leather cord. The hamsa would help ward off evil spirits, and he coral has protective properties, especially for children. It was also known for becoming a lighter color when a loved one died. Ben slipped the cord around his neck and looked down at himself. He was wearing his batman pajamas, new leather jacket, and the amulet. He looked up and grinned at everyone.

Sam thought that he must look just like Dean did at that age, wide eyes full of hero worship whenever he looked at Dean, the way Dean must have looked at their father. The amulet had been his last present, and so Ben looked at the rest of them expectantly. “Come on you guys, open your presents.” Ben scooted over to the couch and nudged two big boxes closer to Dean and Sam. Sam took the one on top, the label said it was to him, and Dean picked up the one on the bottom. “You have to open them at the same time.” Ben said.

“Okay,” Sam said. He glanced at Dean. “Ready?”

Dean nodded, “One, two, three.” The both tore into the paper, ripping it to pieces in exaggerated movements and accompanying growling sounds. The colored paper disappeared and revealed the two boxes. Sam looked down at his own box and read the words “large capacity tank,” “shoots 25 feet” and “ages 6 and up.” It was a super soaker; a bright red and orange super soaker.

Sam snapped out of staring at the box in his hands when he heard Dean’s shout of glee. “Awesome, super soakers!” He picked the box up and made like he was pointing it at Ben, “You’re so going down dude.”

“As if,” Ben retorted. “But they’re not for playing, stupid. They’re to help fight demons, duh.” Ben looked at them like they were supposed to know what he was talking about.

“Ah, Ben…” Sam wasn’t sure what to say. He’d thought Ben was old enough to get the difference between real and fake guns.

Ben huffed, “You fill them with holy water. Then you can shoot the demons from far away.” Ben explained. His pointed his finger at the box, “See? It says 25 feet.”

Dean and Sam were dumbfounded; it was a damn good idea, but they were a little stuck on the ages six and up part right under where Ben was pointing. They’d be a laughingstock. “You boys will have those demons shakin’ in their boots for sure.” Bobby said from across the room, barely containing his amusement.

Dean flipped Bobby off and then turned his attention to Ben. “That’s a really good idea dude, we’d never thought of it.” Ben stood a little straighter at the praise. “But we can still have water fights too, right?”

Ben nodded, “Yeah, sure. Can I be on your team?”

Dean smiled, “Definitely. It’ll be us against Sam and Bobby. Cool people versus whiny bitches.” Ben cackled while Sam rolled his eyes and Bobby’s protesting ‘Hey’ was ignored.

Once Ben calmed down and everyone else had finished opening their presents Lisa stood up. “Ben, we have one more thing to tell you.”

“Another present?” He asked.

“Sort of,” Lisa gestured for Dean to stand up and Sam knew what was going to happen. “Dean is your biological father.”

Ben looked at the two of them in confusion, and Sam thought it was the word ‘biological’ that threw him off. Dean stood there, a little awkwardly, waiting for Ben’s reaction.

“So he’s, like, my dad?” Ben asked Lisa.

“Yes, he’s your dad.”

“For real?” Lisa and Dean both nodded. Ben jumped to his feet and barreled into Dean, giving him a big hug. “Awesome! This is great! Christmas rocks!” Dean’s face was full of happiness, none of the doubts about revealing the truth that he’d had earlier showed in his eyes. Watching the scene in front of him was making Sam’s eyes tear up, and he blinked rapidly. He heard a little sniffle from Bobby’s direction. Lisa just looked happy, and again her smile got even brighter when Dean lifted his arm to pull her into the hug. They were picture perfect.

Where was that camera?

3.09 Malleus Maleficarum

Dean threw all four duffels into the trunk of the Impala, and closed it firmly. Ben was excited, because one of those duffels was his. This time when Sam and Dean left he was going with them to visit Bobby for the weekend. Mom wasn’t coming, but that was okay, he’d be safe with Dean and Sam there. Mom said she was going to call some of her friends and have a ‘girl’s weekend,’ whatever that means, while they were gone.

“Ready, dude?” Dean asked, and reached out to ruffle Ben’s hair. Ben smoothed it back down quickly, Dean always went for the hair.

“Yeah.” Ben said. Sam was already in the front seat and Ben started toward the back seat but was grabbed from behind by his mom. “Mooom, we already did the gushy goodbye stuff,” he complained.

She squeezed him tighter, “Well I want to do it again, so deal with it.” Ben rolled his eyes. “You be careful while you’re there, and do what Dean, Sam and Bobby tell you.”

“I know.” Ben said, he’d heard her the first thousand times.

“He’ll be fine, Lisa.” Dean said, “He’s had his tetanus shot, right?” He joked. Mom glared at him, but Ben laughed. “What? I’m just saying, there’s a lot of scrap metal lying around.”

“I expect Ben to come back injury-free, you hear me Winchester?” Lisa said. She let Ben go and he opened the car door and slid inside.

“Loud and clear. Kid’ll be fine, don’t worry.” Dean said. “I’ll take good care of him, and Sam’ll feed him vegetables and stuff.” Dean gave Mom a hug before he opened his car door and got in, waving goodbye.

Dean started the car and the engine roared, like a lion, a really cool black, metal, lion. Ben smiled; he loved the rumbly feeling of the engine. He turned around and waved to his mom out the back window as they pulled out of the driveway. Dean beeped the horn and Lisa waved back. When he couldn’t see her anymore, Ben slid back into a sitting position. He was looking forward to this trip to Bobby’s. Dean said they were gonna do more training there cause Bobby had other books and stuff. This was gonna be an awesome weekend.



Sam snuck a peek at the back seat to find Ben had conked out; his body stretched along the entire back seat. It was a twelve-hour drive from Cicero to Sioux Falls and he’d fallen asleep around hour nine. Privately, Sam was grateful. He loved Ben, but a kid cooped up in a car for so long was just torture for everyone involved. The first couple hours had been fine, Ben asked them questions about Bobby’s place and what they were going to do. Then he managed to find some old toy army men that must have been stashed back there for who knows how long. He’d staged a couple battles with the little green soldiers and made lots of cute, but annoying “pew! Pew!” noises. Then when all the “Are we there yet?” and “I have to pee’s” started, Sam was ready to strangle the kid. Dean was more calm, but even the seemingly infinite patience he had with Ben was starting to wear thin. Thank God he’d gone to sleep, and thank God they were finally there.

Dean pulled the car up in front of Bobby’s house and parked, the gravel crunching under the tires. “Should we wake him up?” Sam asked.

Dean glanced back at Ben, “Nah, I’ll just carry him inside and set him down on the couch. He’ll be fine.”

“You sure that won’t wake him up?”

Dean laughed, “No way, kids sleep like rocks, he’ll stay asleep no problem.” Dean looked at Sam and remarked, “I used to carry your lazy ass all the time when you were his age.”

“Really?” Sam said, “I don’t remember that.” The look Dean gave him as he got out of the car said clearly, duh, you were asleep.

“You get the bags, I’ll get Ben,” Dean said. Sam nodded and stepped out of the car, straightening his tall frame and stretching the kinks out of his back. He went to the trunk and grabbed the duffels. He followed Dean, who cradled a still sleeping Ben in his arms. Guess Dean was right after all. Dean knocked on the door by kicking it with his boot, and Bobby opened it.

“Took you boys long enough.” He said as greeting, ushering them in. Dean headed straight for the couch, carefully depositing Ben on it.

“Yeah, well, we had to make twice as many stops for Mr. Pee Break over here,” Dean said fondly. Seeing what he was doing, Bobby pulled a blanket off of another chair and handed it to Dean, who used it to cover Ben.

“Wanna beer?” Bobby asked.

“You gonna spike it with Holy water?” Sam said.

“Yep.”

“Then yeah, sure.” Sam said, chuckling.

“Make that two,” Dean said.

Bobby nodded and went to the kitchen to fetch them, coming back with two cold bottles. He handed them over.

“You know we have the tattoos, we can’t be possessed anymore.” Sam said.

“Just bein’ careful.” Bobby replied. “Speakin’ of, you ever get Lisa to ‘ok’ that tattoo for Ben?” He looked to Dean.

Dean shook his head, “She got one herself, but she said Ben was too young. We found a compromise though.”

“What do you mean?”

Dean grinned, “It was Sammy’s idea. We’re using henna, and when it starts to fade we just reapply.”He chuckled, “Ben loves it, says it makes him feel ‘totally badass.’”

“It’s been working pretty well.” Sam said.

“Damn good idea.” Bobby said, and Sam felt a glimmer of pride at Bobby’s approval. He took a sip of his beer, as did Dean. “So, on the phone you weren’t too specific. What exactly is it you boys want to do this weekend?”

“Ben needs more training. We were hoping you could help us out with that. You know more about the supernatural than anyone else we know. Plus we thought he should get to know you better, since, you know, you kind of his Grandpa,” Dean said.

Bobby looked slightly embarrassed, but pleased, too. “Alright then, we’ll start in the morning. I made up the guest room for you boys, one of you will have to take the floor this time though, since Ben has the couch.”

Dean made a face. “Yeah, we figured. I brought a sleeping bag.” Sam knew Dean was still a little miffed that he had to sleep on the floor, but there was no sleeping bag that was big enough for Sam to fit in, he was just too tall. Sam offered to do it anyway, but the big brother in Dean insisted that Sam get the bed.

“Well, I’m going to bed. You boys know where everything if you need something. See you in the morning.” Bobby said, and left them alone.

“I’m beat, man. I’m going to bed, too.” Sam said. “You sleeping down here or in the guest room?”

Dean looked at Ben, who lost his eight-year-old attitude when he slept. He looked far more innocent than the lovable brat he actually was. “I think I’ll sleep down here,” Dean said.

Sam headed upstairs and thought about Dean sleeping by Ben, protecting him while he slept, the way he used to do for Sam.



Bobby was up before everyone the next morning. He made coffee and scrambled eggs, letting the smells drift into the living room and wake Ben up. Dean still slept, wrapped up in a sleeping bag on the floor, mouth open with a puddle of drool on the pillow.

Ben came into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes and yawning, still in his clothes from the day before. “Hey, kid, you like eggs?” Bobby asked.

“Yeah.” Ben said, as he stood in the middle of the floor awkwardly, like he wasn’t really sure what to do. Kid looked so much like Dean did at that age, the hair and the nose, even the personality, a heart of gold masked by bravado. Ben was much less insecure than Dean had been, though that was to be expected considering the differences in their lives.

Ben watched Bobby at the stove for a few minutes, until Bobby finally said, “Why don’t you go see if I have anything to drink in the fridge ‘sides beer.”

“Ok,” Ben said, and pulled the fridge open. His eyes went wide, “Dude, how much beer do you have?”

Bobby peeked over Ben’s head into the fridge. He didn’t have any more beer than usual in there. “Enough.”

Ben rooted around in the contents of the fridge, shifting things around as he looked. He pulled out a clear jug, “Why do you have water in here?” he asked.

Bobby scooped the eggs out onto a plate. “It’s Holy water.”

“Are you supposed to keep it cold or something?” Ben looked puzzled, it was a cute look on the kid, his eyebrows scrunched the same way Dean’s did.

“No, it works at any temperature. I put it in the beer when people come over to make sure they’re not demons.”

Ben thought about it for a second, then grinned. “Oh man, that’s such a good idea! Then they don’t even know you’re testing them. Sweet.”

“Yup.” Bobby said. “In fact, maybe you should drink some right now, so I can be sure you ain’t a demon.” Ben laughed, but stopped quickly when he saw that Bobby wasn’t laughing, and was serious.

“I’m not a demon.”

“Demons lie, how do I know you ain’t lyin’?” Bobby stared down at Ben, folding his arms. The boy was here for the weekend to learn about the supernatural, now was as good a time to start as any.”

Ben looked uncertain, “Did you check Sam and Dean?”

Bobby nodded, “Sure did, last night while you were sleepin’.”

Ben looked at the jug he held in his hands. Then he looked up, “Wait, I have that anti-demon tattoo thing.”

“Can I see it?” Bobby asked.

“Yeah, sure.” Ben put the jug down on the floor and made like he was going to take off his shirt. Bobby put a hand out to stop him.

“Not what I meant,” he said. “I meant, can I see it right now, the way you are?”

Ben looked confused again, and annoyed by it. “No, but I can show you it.”

Bobby knelt down so he was eye level with Ben, it killed his knees but the kid needed to get this. “If you were a demon, you could kill me in the time it takes for me blink. Trying to show me your tattoo gives you extra time to distract me, maybe catch me off guard. It’s safer for me to make you drink the Holy water. It means I can stand over there and don’t have to go closer, and if you don’t want to drink it that’s a sure sign something’s wrong.” Ben took it in with wide eyes. “So, if you were me, what would you do?”

Ben stood still, thinking it over. Then he reached down and picked the jug of water off the floor. He very solemnly twisted the top off and took a big gulp. He put the top back on the jug and held it out to Bobby, looking straight in his eyes. Kid had guts and sense.

Bobby smiled, “Good boy.” He took the jug from Ben and stood up, knees complaining loudly. He put the jug on the counter and picked up the plate with the eggs, “You ready for breakfast?”

“Yeah.” Ben said.

“Go wake up your dad and Sam, tell ‘em coffee’s ready.” Bobby took the plate and went to go clear a spot off the table for them to eat at. It had been a long time since Bobby had been around kids, this weekend would be an adventure for sure. Dean and Bobby would train Ben to handle anything they could think of, while Sam researched ways to break Dean’s deal.

Bobby had to chuckle when he heard a soft ‘whump’ followed by, “Dude, get up. Bobby has coffee.” A few seconds later it was followed by a laughing squeal and pleas for mercy that sounded like Dean had gotten his revenge for being woken up by tickling Ben unto submission. “Is that all ya got? Wuss!” Ben shouted. Bobby heard Dean pretend to growl and then the pounding footsteps up the stairs. “Sam! Sam! Dean’s a wuss!”

Bobby shook his head, Winchesters.

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