FIC - What Now 3/?
title: What Now? 3/?
pairing: Sam/Dean, Sam/OFC
rating: R/NC-17 eventually, there will be Wincest at some point
summary: Pre-series. Sam ends up with a baby, and copes as long as he can on his own. Additional chapters will be added as they show up in my brain.
A/N: Thanks everyone for your feedback and encouragement with this story. It’s going to probably be a long process, but it’s a labor of love.
“You want to?” asked Sam, still teary and a little shaky from his confession.
“Yeah, ‘course I do, he’s my nephew. We got a lot to figure out but for right now, just let me hold him a minute, all right?”
Sam handed the baby over and Dean gathered him into his arms like it was the most natural thing in the world. He breathed a sigh of relief watching his brother looking down at Jay with wonder and open affection. “Wow. 20 years ago, man, this was you”, he said, smiling up at Sam. Jay was staring at this new face in front of him without any signs of being confused or anxious. “You look like your Daddy”, Dean told him, poking him in the belly, which earned him a giggle from the baby.
“He likes me. Obviously. Even the baby thinks I’m better lookin’ than you, Sam.”
“Whatever you say, man,” Sam sighed, surprised to find himself laughing. He knew there was lots of serious talking to be done, but he just let himself enjoy his brother’s banter for now, comforted just by his presence and casual remarks.
“I thought I’d make us some dinner if that’s okay.”
“Cook us dinner? Seriously? Wow. Is it gonna be safe to eat?”
“Man, shut up, I’ve managed to learn a thing or two in the past couple of years, jerk.” Sam was trying to blow it off, but the truth was he’d almost set fire to the kitchen several times and had made himself sick twice undercooking chicken. He’d never been a genius in the kitchen, but there were certain things even Sam couldn’t fuck up. He put on a pot of water and poured a jar of store-brand spaghetti sauce into the only other pot he owned. While he waited for the water to boil, he watched Dean lay on the floor making funny faces at Jay and shaking his little stuffed dog, making the baby giggle and roll around. Right this minute, everything felt a little surreal.
Sam poured a box of pasta into the boiling water and stirred, not noticing when Dean walked up behind him with Jay half over his shoulder, laughing and squirming. He opened the fridge.
“No beer, dude?”
Sam froze. He didn’t want to turn around, he knew his face was flushed with embarrassment and he tried to come up with some kind of excuse. He was 21 now, it wasn’t like he couldn’t buy beer. But the truth was, he couldn’t buy beer. He felt like a moron. He should have thought of it, he should have walked down to the corner grocery earlier and at least picked up a cheap six-pack. Jesus, how could he be so stupid?
“Uh…sorry, I…um - I guess I…”
He didn’t have to see Dean’s face to know that he’d figured it out. And, of course, found a way to try to erase Sam’s discomfort.
“Whatever, man, I don’t need beer. But if you want, I’ll go pick it up for us. I saw a store up the street. You want some? We haven’t seen each other for so long, we should celebrate. What do you think?”
“Sure, Dean”, Sam replied, finally forcing himself to turn away from the stove and face his brother, hopefully not giving away his feelings. “That’d be great, if you wouldn’t mind. I should have thought of it earlier.”
“Look, I know we’re easing into this whole let’s share our feelings thing, but this? This bugs you? After all the years we spent as kids measuring out how much milk would last until the end of the week and giving the school lunch ladies the look to get extra mashed potatoes? Come on, Sam. Christ. I’ll just run down to the store. You want me to take Jay? I can get your carseat if you tell me which one of those hoopties in the parking lot is yours.”
Aw, fuck. Sam’s face fell again and Dean must have known immediately because it looked like he wanted to swallow his words as soon as they came out of his mouth.
“I don’t have a car, Dean. His daycare is on the bus route on the way to my job. The store is close enough to walk.”
Dean schooled his features and flashed a grin. “Cool. Low maintenance, man. And what the fuck is wrong with me, I haven’t even gotten any details from you about work or school, I’ve been so caught up with this little guy. I’m an ass. No shocker there. Anyway. We’ll walk. Cook my dinner, bitch.”
With that he smirked and turned to walk out the door with Sam’s son, like it was no big deal. Sam wanted to cry again. He was fucking humiliated. He didn’t have his own car. He didn’t even think about spending a few dollars on a six pack of beer because he was so used to never buying anything that wasn’t an absolute necessity. Dean must think he was pathetic.
He spread butter and garlic powder onto some store-brand sliced bread and stuck it into the oven while he was feeling sorry for himself and dreading the conversation coming later when Dean asked him about school. He knew Sam had a full time job, but Sam hadn’t gotten around to explaining that he’d dropped out of Stanford, and that would not be fun.
The makeshift garlic bread was on the counter and Sam was draining the pasta when Dean and Jay walked back in with a 12-pack of Heineken. “Smells good, dude. What do you want me to do with the baby?”, Dean asked, as he balanced the boy on his hip and slid the beer into the fridge with his free hand.
Sam motioned toward the high chair, and Dean pulled off the tray, strapped Jay in and locked the tray back in like an expert. Sam looked at him with admiration, and Dean chuckled. “You think I didn’t put you in a high chair a hundred times when you were a baby? Like riding a bike.”
They sat down on the sofa, plates on their laps, after Sam had cut up the pasta and a piece of bread into tiny pieces and set a plate on Jay’s high chair tray. Dean used his ring to uncap two bottles of beer and the two of them ate in relative silence, except for Dean’s occasional chuckles and comments about the mess the baby was making as he shoved handfuls of pasta into his mouth with his left hand.
“Southpaw, huh?”
“The baby books say it’s too soon to tell. But yeah, maybe.”
“Baby books. Man, I wish I would have had some of those when you were little. I kind of had to guess at everything most of the time.”
“Believe me, Dean, I’m still guessing at everything.” Sam was feeling a little better, partly because he’d been able to feed his brother a non-poisonous dinner, partly because he couldn’t even remember the last time he’d had a beer and maybe he’d forgotten how nice that little buzz felt.
“Seems to me you’re making good guesses, then. No, don’t give me that look. You got your own place here, so it’s not fancy but it’s clean and it has everything the baby needs. You’re making enough money to support the two of you, anyway.”
Sam didn’t answer, just finished his dinner and agreed when Dean offered to wash the dishes while he cleaned the baby up and settled him into his bassinet, tucked in with his little stuffed dog.
Once the necessities were taken care of, Dean and Sam settled back onto the sofa and started to talk for real, sipping on a couple more beers.
“So, what kind of work do you do?”
“It’s a construction job. Framing, mostly, some drywall work. It doesn’t pay much but sometimes I can manage to get some overtime.”
“Well, you must be doing all right to support the two of you, right? It’s not like formula and Pampers are cheap.”
Sam figured he might as well just admit it. “Dean, I get public assistance. Welfare. It helps me pay for daycare and food. Honestly, I couldn’t get by without it.” His face was hot and he wouldn’t look up from the floor.
Until Dean was quiet for longer than expected. When Sam finally looked at him, Dean’s expression was soft, sympathetic but not pitying. “Sam, do you think Dad wouldn’t have done that if he didn’t move us around and live under the radar all the time when we were kids? You think you should be embarrassed about that? We grew up eating food that was bought with fake credit cards and pool-hustling money. At least you’re making an honest living. It’s nothing to be ashamed of, Sam. You have to know that.”
Sam must not have looked convinced, because Dean grabbed his chin and moved his head up so they were eye to eye. “Please, you have to know that”, he repeated.
So yeah, Sam nodded, agreed, and oh fuck. Just that one touch - God, he thought he’d buried all this, and here it was sneaking back up on him with one stupid second of his brother’s hand on his skin. Fuck fuck fuck motherfuck.
“Right, so, now that we’ve gotten that straight…what about school?”
Aw, man. Mother mother mother fuck again. Sam took a deep breath and came out with it.
“I dropped out. I don’t have any plans of going back”, he replied, and waited for the fallout.