Chapter Text
The Oklahoma town they rolled into a few nights ago was quiet and sleepy, even during the busy part of the day. The first thing they noticed was the immense heat. It had been in the upper nineties every day since they'd been in Waynoka, Oklahoma.
It was June and Dean was supposed to have graduated high-school last month but the school said that he hadn't had enough credits in certain studies there. They had moved he didn't know how many times since the beginning of his senior year. It was no wonder they couldn't keep track of what he'd taken and what he hadn't.
Dean had already turned 18 and refused to go to school another year and decided he'd just get his GED at some point. His brother seemed disappointed in his decision but said nothing either way. Sam was going to start his Sophomore year this August and who knew what town they'd be in two months from now.
Dean cooks dinner for him and Sam, and extra just in case John came back and was hungry. He was out 'researching' at the nearest bar. It made Dean grit his teeth to see John drink away all the money they'd hustled along the way here. It seemed the guy couldn't, or wouldn't, think about where Dean would find the money for the groceries for their meals. But as 'the good son and soldier', Dean never said a word. He'd make it work.
Sam was in the kitchen cleaning up after the meal Dean made. It was always like that with them. Dean cooked, Sam cleaned. Their dad's friend, Jerry, had allowed them to occupy his home while he was out.
Jerry was all the way up in West Virginia on a case and had been for some time, so it worked out that John and the boys would stop by there and give it a little attention. The first thing Dean had done after unloading the Impala was go through the fridge and toss out every molded and rotten thing he found in there that Jerry had left behind unthinkingly.
The house had two bedrooms, well, three really, but the third one couldn't be considered a room, more like a giant messy filing cabinet. It was filled with all kinds of things but mostly papers and books. Every surface was covered and papers were stacked from floor to ceiling. Only one narrow path parted the sea of papers and wove into the room. Dean had taken one look in there and deemed it uninhabitable and shut the door, warning the rest of them against the dangers of an avalanche if they dared enter.
The house had no central heat and air to protect the inhabitants from the hot Oklahoma summer, which Dean found ridiculously stupid, 'This is a place that really NEEDS HVAC!' Dean had said to his brother. He didn't know how Jerry could stand it here.
Only two window units were in the house. One was in the big bedroom and one in the living room. The first night they had all split up, John slept on the couch in the living room and Sam slept in the smaller bedroom, Dean in the larger room. Dean and John checked on Sam in the morning when they woke up before the sun and found the poor boy sprawled out on the bed in nothing but his underwear panting and sweating from the oppressive heat in the room even though the door had been wide open all night. The boy's long hair was sticking to his forehead and the bed was soaked when Dean roused Sam out of his baking sleep and told him to go take a cool shower.
“Dad, he can't sleep in there.” Dean said carefully as he looked up under his lashes at his father who was seated in the living room drinking coffee with his feet propped up on the coffee table.
“Sure he can, he did it last night, didn't he?” John didn't even look away from the TV screen as he replied to his son.
“Now you and I both know you wouldn't sleep in there, so don't make Sam.” Dean said pleadingly as he turned his eyes back to the eggs he was cooking and began flipping them over.
John's eyebrows crept up his forehead as he took his feet from the counter and sat forward, turning to look at Dean.
Dean could tell that John was holding himself back from giving Dean a lashing about telling him what to do, but John said nothing, he just continued to stare at Dean until his son looked up at him warily.
“What exactly are you suggesting?” John asks him quietly, Dean could barely hear him over the sound of the eggs sizzling in the pan.
Dean pursed his lips a little and carefully lifted the eggs out of the pan with a spatula and put them on a plate with some toast. “I'm just saying we should let Sam have a choice and not force him to sleep in that unbearable heat that even you and I wouldn't sleep in.”
Dean plopped a fork onto the plate and carried it and a jar of picante sauce to John and set it before him. John's eyes watched him all the way but they softened when he got an eyeful of the food. It seemed to placate him a bit, and Dean knew it would.
“Yeah, okay.” John said, leaning over to pick up the plate and begin eating.
Dean turned away and headed back for the kitchen, effectively hiding the smile that came from getting a request granted by his dad.
“I wonder where he'll choose to sleep...” John murmured sarcastically right before poking a forkful of egg into his mouth. He was back to watching TV now, completely ignoring Dean. Dean heard it, but was unaffected by it. John had always been overly sensitive about Sam wanting to sleep with Dean. From a young age John had always made them sleep together for safety reasons and space restrictions. It was no surprise that Sam would want to continue sleeping with Dean when he got older. He'd been doing it since before he was even a year old.
It wasn't just Sam that had gotten used to it, Dean had also. It was hard to relax and nearly impossible to sleep when his brother wasn't beside him. He had the compulsive need to know Sam was where he should be and safe and sound, and when he didn't have that, Dean would toss and turn all night, often getting up to look in on Sam to make sure he was still there.
Dean had already made all of their breakfasts and Sam was cleaning up the kitchen when John's phone rang. He took one look at the front of the flip phone and glanced at his boys and walked out the front door, the screen door slamming sharply as they heard him say 'hello'. Dean raised his eyebrows at his dad's odd reaction to whoever was calling him and he went to shut the heavy front door, the cool air they'd amassed was precious to them and he didn't want it escaping.
Sam and Dean were sitting on the couch together watching horrible TV when John finally came back inside. “Gotta go. Got a call for a hunt.” he said. Sam snorted, 'Real descriptive...' he thought to himself with a half-assed eye roll that Dean caught but thankfully John missed. Dean stood up from the couch, “Alright. I'll start packin' up.”
John held out a hand, effectively stopping Dean in his tracks, leaving his older son with a confused look. “I'll be going this one alone.” John explains. He seems to bite at his cheek as he walks over to the kitchen table, dropping money onto the wood from his wallet. “Looks like I've only got three hundred dollars... This is all I can spare you.” John drops a one-hundred dollar bill, two twenties and two fives.
Dean's jaw slackens as he sees John leaving them only one-hundred and fifty dollars. “Well... how long will you be gone?” he asks, his green eyes snapping up and searching John's face. That much money would only sustain them for a very short amount of time.
“Sorry son... It'll be a month at the very least.” And without a look to Dean he drops a business card on top of the bills and stalks off into the living room to gather and pack his things.
Dean picks up the card that has a basic graphic of a red car on it that reads, 'Roy's Muffler'. He slaps it back down onto the table and tightens his jaw as he stares at John packing up. He knew instantly what that meant. John had gone out a few days ago before one of his drinking binges and he must have scouted the area. It was likely that he knew they'd be here for a while if he was searching for a place for Dean to go work.
This idea made Dean curious and suspicious of his father. He shot a glance over at Sam when John left the living room for the bathroom down the hallway. Sam looked back at him and quirked his mouth, there was nothing they could do about it and they both knew it. “Great... stuck in this hot, sandy town with one-hundred and fifty bucks...” Dean growled to Sam, but mostly to himself.
Sam looks back to the coffee table and leans over, picking up their dad's cellphone. Dean glances down the hallway as he hurries over to Sam when he sees what he's picked up. He instantly snatches it from Sam's offering hand and flips it open, scanning to his call list. His eyebrows furrow, “Adam...?” Dean doesn't recognize the name. He checks the time stamp to make sure that was the correct call, it was. Dean didn't know any of John's hunter friends that were named Adam. At the sound of the door opening he quickly and silently put the phone back down where it was.
John looks at Dean and then Sam as he slings the duffel over his shoulder. Dean was in the kitchen packing him a few non-perishable foods. The corner of John's mouth turned up in a small smile for half a second and then he wiped it away before it could be noticed.
“Dad... why can't I come with you?” Dean asks as he turns to John and hands off the bag of food.
John looked like he was really hoping that Dean wouldn't start with him about this, and was let down when Dean spoke. “Dean... You need to stay here to look after your brother. It isn't a dangerous job but it is far away and we just got here. It's a nice place, you shouldn't be so eager to leave. Just relax for a while, this is summer break after all.”
At Dean's hard expression John sighs, “Listen son... I gotta go. Now... you stay here and look after Sammy-” “Sam....” Sam corrected in an exasperated voice. John barely paused, acting like he didn't even hear his younger son. “I'm sure you'll be able to find a car. You're a resourceful kid.” John claps a hand hard on Dean's shoulder and gives him a crooked smile.
“Later Sammy.” John says, patting the boy on the head as he walks by him and out the door without another look back. They both sat in silence as they heard the heavy Impala door shut and the loud familiar engine roar to life. Sam was looking over at Dean who was watching out the front window as the black car pulled out of their long gravel driveway onto the hardtop and roar away.
Dean relaxed once the car couldn't be heard anymore. He leans against the counter-top and runs both hands over his face, one leg bent against the cabinet. He sighs heavily and plants his hands hard at his hips, staring at Sam. “Well Sam... it's just you and me again. Guess I'll make my way into town and look for a job and a car.” He pushes himself off the counter and goes to the kitchen table, lifting the card for Roy's Muffler and reading the number. He huffs a humorless laugh and tosses the card back down.
“It'll be alright Dean... I'll find a job too.” Sam says, standing up off the couch and approaching his brother, standing a few feet away. “No, Sammy, you won't. You're only 14.” Dean answered a little rougher than he intended. The apologetic face Dean gave to his brother immediately following the harsh words made Sam smile a little and Dean knew Sam accepted his unspoken apology.
Dean reaches out a hand and ruffles Sam's hair then takes the card and the money and puts it in his wallet. “See you in a bit, don't geek out too hard and hurt yourself while I'm out.” he says with a teasing grin, earning him a punch in the arm before he leaves the house to walk to town.