Promises, Promises - Part One

[jj1564.livejournal.com]

Title: Promises, Promises - Part One
Rating: PG13
Word Count: 7738 part one; 15219 total
Warnings: Mild violence, psychological trauma and swearing.
Author’s Notes: This is based on quadrant_of_sky 's prompt “Quitting hunting was the easy part, after the injury/aches and pains/psychological toll. It was adapting to the mundane that was difficult. That’s why Dean started hunting on the sly again. That’s the only reason.” Thank you to my wonderful, patient, heard-working beta for being so kind and helpful.
Summary: A year after Dean died and became a demon, the brothers have retired and are attempting a “normal” life. Sam is back at Stanford studying and dating a girl, Dean is working in a local bar. Dean has been saved and brought back but has some lasting damage from the Mark.

Originally posted by jj1564 at My Summergen Entry - "Promises, Promises" - Part One




Sam watched Dean tinkering with the Impala’s engine and swearing in frustration. He wasn’t sure exactly what his brother was trying to do, but he knew better than to offer to help. Sam was sitting on the porch swing, pretending to read the newspaper, but Dean’s cussing was distracting.

“Hey, do you mind showing me how to change the oil filter again?” Sam called out. He placed his newspaper down on the floor next to the porch swing and stood up, stretching his long back.

“Sure.” Dean grunted and straightened up. “But I’ve shown you like a hundred times, dude. How can you be so frigging smart but so dumb when it comes to a car engine?”

Sam grinned. He knew perfectly well how to change the oil filter, but feigning ignorance was the best way to help Dean without him realising. “Well, I can’t be good at everything, or I’d show you up! So, what are you doing now?”

“Replacing the fan belt. Here, I’ll show you.” So Dean talked through the process and Sam did as instructed. Once they had finished, and the fan belt was fixed and the oil filter changed, they both sat on the porch swing and downed a beer.

Dean was quiet, which was something Sam still couldn’t get used to. Before he died, Dean was always noisy, always talking, singing, swearing, laughing or yelling. He did everything loud, from slamming doors to slurping soup. He played his music loud, he watched TV loud. Demon Dean had been even louder, even more obnoxious. This new Dean was different. Still intrinsically his brother but more contemplative and introspective.

“You working tonight?” Sam asked, just to break the silence.

“Yep. Open mic night. Gonna be busy.” Dean stared down at his beer bottle.

“I, um, I might ask Natalie over.” Sam felt himself blush and hated himself. He was thirty-two for God’s sake, not fifteen. “Um, just for a meal, watch a movie…”

Dean smiled. “Go for it Sammy. I don’t need to know the details. Just make sure you use protection.”

Sam wanted to be mad at him, but Dean at that moment looked and sounded so much like his old self Sam wanted to hug him. Instead he scowled and muttered. “You’re so immature at times.”

“It’s part of my charm.” Dean stood up and his right arm hung limply at his side. The Mark had faded to a faint scar; it looked like a tattoo that had been removed. Dean’s shirt sleeves were rolled up and Sam’s eyes were drawn to it, as always. He wished that was the only after-effect of bearing the Mark, but the harsh reality was that Dean had lost all feeling in his arm from the shoulder down when they had removed the Mark and he had come back to life. Castiel had been unable to heal him and doctors and physiotherapists were baffled, nothing they tried helped at all. Dean gave up seeking medical attention because none of the health workers really believed his “electric shock” story and he didn’t want to answer any more awkward questions.

Dean had to learn to use his left hand for everything; cutting up food, eating, writing and dressing. Sam remembered commenting that Dean had done well to learn to unzip and undo the button on his jeans with one hand. Dean had given a wry smile as he said “That hooker in Reno, the one with purple hair, she could undo zippers and buttons with her teeth, dude. Now that’s pure talent. I ain’t nothing special.”

The very worst part of his new reality was not being able to drive his Baby. He had an automatic Jeep that he drove to and from work and he tried hard not to glare too much when Sam climbed behind the wheel of his Baby.

“We could sell her Dean, if it’s going to be difficult….” Sam had suggested many months ago, although of course he knew what the answer would be.

“We’re not fucking selling her!” Dean had snapped. “She’s part of the family. Least I can still ride in her, even if I can’t….” Dean had then kicked the door in anger and stomped outside.

Living with Dean was like walking through a minefield. Most of the time it was quiet, too quiet really. Then something would act as a trigger and he would explode, shouting, swearing, and kicking out at anything that got in his way. Or he would become even more introverted and look pale and sad. Sam preferred the explosive Dean, as it was over quickly. Morose Dean could last for days.

Tomorrow would mark the one year anniversary of Dean’s death and rebirth as a demon. And six months since human Dean had returned. Sam could barely believe it at times. They had done it, Castiel and him. They had saved Dean. Now they were retired from hunting and Sam was back at Stanford, feeling much more than just ten years older than his fellow students. Sometimes he felt like he had been through more than just one life, that it wasn’t possible for so much to have happened to him in just 32 short years. They lived in Palo Alto in a small single storey house, on the edge of the town. Sam would have liked to have lived nearer to the campus, but this property was in their price range and afforded them some privacy too. They had been shocked to find that Bobby Singer had left them a small legacy, enough for them to buy the house and fund Sam’s college fees. He worked part-time in a bookstore to make ends meet.

Dean had found a niche in a friendly, popular bar frequented by students and locals. The owner, Joe Miller, was an ex-Marine and accepted Dean’s cover story that he had been a soldier and that his arm had been damaged from being tortured in Afghanistan. Joe had regarded Dean and nodded, adding “Yeah, you look like you’ve seen some shit, kid.”
“You have no idea.” Sam had thought. But he liked Joe and the older man’s gruff ways but kind heart reminded him of Bobby. He would be good for Dean to be around.


Dean drove away from the house and smiled grimly to himself. Sam was such an open book. He knew the whole “show me how to change the oil filter” had been a ploy. Dean knew he was a stubborn, annoying, ungrateful, surly bastard most of the time. He just hated being so fucking useless and having to ask for help. Not that he ever did ask for help.

He sighed and glanced down at his useless, dead arm. He hoped Sammy had a great evening with the voluptuous Natalie and got lucky. He needed to let his too-long hair down. He was so proud of his kid brother, going back to law school, studying hard. Of course, Sammy had always been a bookworm, he loved to read and research and now he could apply his too-smart brain to something other than monsters, demons and the end of the world. Although personally Dean would rather read his dad’s journal any day than the dull as ditch water law books Sam had to study.

Dean pulled up outside the bar that was fast becoming his home from home. He knew he was lucky to have found a place to work and for that place to fit him so well. Sam had been worried at first that Dean working in a bar would encourage his bad drinking habits, but in the last six months Dean’s drinking had remained moderate. He enjoyed the odd beer and he had a glass of whisky before bed to help him relax but that was it. He no longer had that desperate need for alcohol that had been so much a part of his life; perhaps his addiction to the First Blade had cured him of his alcoholism.

Joe was standing out back smoking a cigar. “Hey, Dean.” He said with a nod. “You’re early.”

“Not much. Busy night ahead, with the open mic.” Dean shrugged. “Thought you may need an extra hand.” He waved his good hand around with a grin.

“Very funny.” Joe said with a slight grin. “C’mon then, Bandit, let’s get ready.”

Joe had never made Dean feel like a freak because of his disability and had soon christened him with the nickname “Bandit”, but he was the only one at the bar who called Dean that and the only one Dean really felt comfortable around.

It was a busy night as expected and Dean had barely stopped for breath in hours. A popular local singer was performing and there was a slight lull at the bar. Dean had just taken a comfort break and stood for a moment leaning against the bar, watching the singer and sipping a glass of iced water. The guy was good, even if his covers were always so predictable. Now it was “Brown Eyed Girl” yet again, but the crowd loved it.

“You should get up there.” Dean had been lost in thought, and startled as his colleague Julia nudged his shoulder.

“What? No, I can’t sing!” Dean protested.

“You so can. I’ve heard you out back when you don’t think anyone’s around. You have a good voice.”

“Nah, I prefer to watch.” Dean gave her his trademark smile but it felt weak and thin. He knew it never reached his eyes anymore. Part of him was still dead inside and he didn’t think he would ever feel happiness again. Not after all he had done. He didn’t deserve it.

“Dean?” He realised Julia had spoken to him again.

“Sorry, what did you say?” He pretended he hadn’t heard due to the noise.

“I need a pitcher of beer!” She repeated, looking concerned. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m always okay.” Dean gave her his half-smile. “Wait right there, your wish is my command.” Dean moved back round the bar and filled up a pitcher, placing it on her tray. “Ta-dah!”

“Thanks. Thirsty crowd tonight!” she said. “Joe will be pleased!”

Dean had found it odd that his boss never stayed in the bar past 10pm at first. Then he found out that Joe went home every night to his wife, to have supper with her and watch some television. Dean thought that was kinda sweet. Joe was always back at 10am the next day and only ever took Sundays off. The bar closed at 1am and by 12.45 Dean was dead on his feet, his head was pounding and he was grateful that people were already leaving, only a few die-hards waiting for the second bell that told them to hit the road.


When the bar finally closed, Dean cashed up while Julia and the other staff tidied the place. Julia usually went home with her flat mate but tonight she hung around obviously waiting for Dean. It made him feel uncomfortable. He couldn’t go there. Not with his dead arm and his night terrors. That was another after effect from the Mark that neither Castiel, therapy, drugs nor alcohol had been able to fix. Every single night Dean woke up screaming and sweating, usually waking Sam too.

“Um, do you need a lift?” Dean asked as he locked the safe, then the office door. Joe would collect the cash in the morning to bank it. Julia was standing by the bar, still waiting for him.

“Sure, but I wondered if you’d like to have a drink with me first Dean?” Julia smiled at him. She looked a little like Lisa, with her long dark hair and friendly smile, except her eyes were blue whereas Lisa’s had been brown.

Lisa. Every time he thought of her it hurt, even after all these years.

“I don’t think….” Dean tried to think of an excuse to get out and head home.

“Aw, c’mon!” She took his good hand in her own and pulled him to a bar stool. “We’ve worked together for months now and I still know next to nothing about you.”

“There’s not much to tell.” Dean sat down, torn between wanting to leave and not wanting to be rude. She was a sweet person and fucking sexy too. Just his type if he was still him. If he still functioned on all cylinders. But he wasn’t him – not really. That Dean had died; sometimes he felt like that Dean had died long ago, long before the Mark and that bastard Metatron.

“Bullshit.” She grabbed a bottle of Jack Daniels and two glasses. “You’ve obviously led an interesting, dangerous life. And you’re, what, early thirties? You must have had some ladies in your life, kids even.”

Dean picked up his glass and peered at the amber liquid. Yeah, darling, I made love with an Amazon and had a kid that grew from baby to adult in one fucking day and then was killed by my brother. I had an angel of the Lord wipe the memory of the woman I loved after she was almost killed by a demon. I’m still not sure if her kid was mine or not. Ben sure looked like me….

“Dean? You okay?” Julia reached out and touched his arm. She had moved to sit next to him and he hadn’t noticed. Her hand was cool and soft, and Dean tried not to flinch away from her touch. He couldn’t remember the last time a woman had touched him so tenderly.

“Sure. Look, Julia, you’re a beautiful woman and a coupla years ago I’d have loved for something to happen between us, but I can’t….” Dean shook his head slightly. Julia sighed and moved a little closer toward him.

“Look, my brother is a soldier Dean, so was my dad. I know a little bit about what you must have been through. I like you and I want to make you happy.” She stroked his face and this time he did flinch, pulling away from her.

“No.” He whispered, feeling his eyes sting. “I’m sorry, I can’t…” Pulling away, he stood up too quickly and the bar stool toppled over. Dean tried to move away but he got caught up in the legs of the stool and he couldn’t stop himself from falling with just one working arm. He landed heavily on the floor and smacked his head on the bar. “Fuck!”

“Dean!” Julia was next to him, helping him to sit up. The room spun and he realised he had split his eyebrow, and blood was running into his right eye, down his face.

“M’okay.” He lied, as the room spun even faster as he tried to sit up.

“No, you’re not.” Julia pulled out her cell. “I’m phoning an ambulance.”

“No, please, I’ll be okay.” Dean struggled to stand and sat back down when his legs refused to work and the room seemed to be whirling around his head. “I hate hospitals. Just gimme a minute.”

“Okay.” Julia stood up. “I’m going to get a wet cloth for your head.” As she walked away he heard her speaking on the phone. “Is that Sam? Hey, it’s Julia, yes, he’s okay, sort of. He fell and hit his head. He doesn’t want to go to hospital. Can you come?”

Great, now Mr Mother Hen would be flapping his way here and squawking around him, fussing and worrying. He managed to get himself up onto his feet but a bout of nausea forced him to sit on Julia’s vacated stool and put his head in his hand.

“Shit! Dean you’re really pale. Are you going to…?” Julia didn’t have time to finish as he puked right then and there, barely missing her feet.


By the time Sam arrived Dean was sitting on the floor with his back against the bar and his head in a bucket between his legs. Julia had cleaned up the mess and unlocked the door when she heard the Impala approach. Dean already felt miserable and humiliated, and to make matters worse Sam had brought Natalie along to witness his misery.

“Dean, what the hell happened?” He asked, kneeling down and checking Dean over.

“I fell off the stool, no worries. Just feel stupid. M’okay,” Dean managed to say before he had to heave again. Natalie was kneeling on the other side of him and she gently inspected his head wound.

“Forgot you’re a nurse,” Dean muttered to her. “Am I gonna live?” He tried a smile but had to stick his head in the bucket again.

“You’ve got mild concussion. You really should go to the hospital,” Natalie told him.

“No!” Dean groaned. “Had enough of fucking hospitals!”

“Dean!” Sam admonished him. “Watch your mouth.”

“It’s okay Sammy, I’m an ER nurse, I’ve heard plenty worse than that,” Natalie said kindly, but all Dean could think was that she had called Sam “Sammy”. He waited for Sam to correct her and felt like he had been betrayed when Sam didn’t. “Julia can you get some ice and wrap it in a cloth for his head? Sammy, can you get a glass of water and some Tylenol? Once the nausea passes we’ll get you home, Dean.”

“It’s not Sammy.” Dean glared at her. “It’s Sam. Only I get to call him Sammy.”

Sam had already moved away but heard what he said. “Dean, I know you’re hurt but you’re being fucking rude!” he said angrily from the other side of the bar. “Natalie calls me Sammy and I like it. Suck it up.”

Dean put the bucket down wearily and wiped his face with his hand. “Shit, I’m sorry. I’m acting like a total jerk. Sorry, Natalie.”

“Hey, it’s alright.” She smiled at him and Dean hoped she would be sticking around for a while. He liked her and she suited Sam really well. “You have a head injury Dean and I already know you’re a total jerk, Sammy – Sam- told me.” She grinned and Dean managed a weak smile.


Sam crept out of Dean’s bedroom an hour later, leaving the door open so he could hear if Dean woke and needed him. Natalie was curled up asleep on the sofa and Julia was sitting at the table drinking black coffee and chewing her nails.

“He’s sleeping,” Sam whispered as he joined Julia at the table. “He’ll be okay.”

“It’s my fault,” Julia said. “I was, well, coming on to him and he freaked out. He got up so fast to get away he knocked the stool over and tripped on it.”

Sam sighed. Dean Winchester, Mr Love ‘em and Leave ‘em, the ladies” man, the man who had flirted with, hooked up with and slept with countless women, had fallen over in a bid to escape the advances of one. “He has…issues.”

“I get that, I do. I understand but, Jeez, Sam, he just needs…..he needs to let himself live a little. He always looks so sad, like he’s carrying this huge burden. I know his arm troubles him, but he manages so well…” She wiped her eyes. “Until I make him fall over and he can’t stop himself and he ends up with a concussion!”

“It’s really not your fault.” Sam glanced at the clock. It was 3am.

“Look, it’s real late. You should stay here, you can have my bed. I’ll sleep on the floor in Dean’s room.”

“Are you sure?” she yawned. “I’m really tired. That would be great.”

So Sam grabbed a couple of sleeping bags and laid on one wrapped in the other next to his brother on the floor. Sam woke up at 8am and realised it was the first night since Dean became human again that he hadn’t woken Sam up with his screams and Sam wasn’t sure if this was a good or bad sign. But Dean was breathing normally and looked really peaceful, and when Sam stroked his foot he twitched so Sam guessed he was okay.

Natalie had already left when Sam made his way down to the kitchen. Julia was once again sitting at the table drinking coffee. She helped Sam make a tray of breakfast for Dean, then left too, making Sam promise to call her and let her know how Dean was doing.


Sam carried the tray along to Dean’s room. It was just oatmeal, toast and coffee as he thought he should keep it simple. Dean was still snoring gently when Sam entered and he took the opportunity to look at his older brother, his hero, his pain in the neck, his burden, his family. Dean always looked like a little boy when he slept. His short hair was mussed up from sleep and his full lips were open slightly. There was a small frown between his eyes, it never left his face anymore and Sam wondered what he was dreaming about. His left arm was cradled under him, his face resting on his hand and his right arm lay lifelessly next to him, the scar of the Mark looking stark against the pale skin in the morning light.

“Hey, Dean. Breakfast.” Sam shook his shoulder and Dean’s eyes opened in alarm. “It’s just me.”

“Sammy,” Dean groaned and closed them again with a sigh. “Feel like shit.”

“I’m not surprised. You need to eat something. Come on, lazybones, sit up.” Sam watched as Dean hauled himself up with one arm and rested against the pillows. “Here you go. Once you’ve eaten I’ll get you some more Tylenol.” Sam placed the tray on the bed next to Dean.

“Oatmeal?” Dean’s nose wrinkled in disgust. “You trying make me hurl again?”

“You just need something plain and filling, don’t be a baby.” Sam sat on the end of the bed. “And I put maple syrup in it, just for you, princess.”

“Gee thanks.” Dean grumbled but hid a small smile. He ate a few mouthfuls then pushed the bowl away. “Shit. I really screwed up last night didn’t I? Julia probably thinks I’m a freak.”

“Eat your toast,” Sam said. “And don’t worry about Julia. She’s cool. She blames herself but she doesn’t think any the worse of you. I think she’d still like to jump your bones.” As soon as the words left his mouth Sam regretted them. Dean stopped chewing the toast and swallowed, looking pale and scared. He bit his lip and tried to cover his expression, swapping the toast for the coffee, but his hand shook. “Um, she’s gone. They both have.”

“She…she stayed here? And your girl?” Dean put the cup back on the tray and clenched his hand to stop the shaking.

“Yeah, it was late by the time we got you home. Can you manage any more food?” Dean shook his head. “I’ll get you some pills.”

“Sammy…..” Dean hesitated, looking anxious. “Julia….I just….I can’t…”

“Don’t worry about it. You look exhausted still.”

“I am.” Dean yawned. “Need to use the bathroom.” He climbed out the bed on unsteady legs and went to the bathroom while Sam took the tray back to the kitchen. Dean followed him down and flopped onto the sofa.

“You should be in bed,” Sam said as he handed Dean the pills.

“Hate being in bed in the daytime. I’ll be fine here. You can keep an eye on me easier too.” Dean winked at Sam. “Mother Hen.”

“Cluck cluck.” Sam flapped his arms like wings. It was an in-joke, from a time a few months ago when Dean had lost his temper and called Sam a fucking Mother-fucking hen and to stop fucking clucking and fussing over him. Sam covered Dean in the rug that Natalie had left neatly folded on the chair and within minutes Dean was sleeping again.


Sam was pleased it was Saturday so he didn’t have any classes. He rang his boss at the coffee shop and explained that he had to care for his brother. He rang Julia and then Natalie with updates, then he sat in the armchair next to Dean and did some work on his laptop. A few hours passed peacefully then Dean started to whimper. Before Sam could get over to him Dean was yelling “No! No! Get away from me! Noooo!” Then the blood-curdling screams began. Sam was grateful again that their house was at the edge of town and stood away from the nearest neighbours.

Sam knelt by Dean and grasped his shoulders firmly. “Dean! Dean! You’re okay. You’re safe.” Sam had learnt that this was the best way to tackle Dean’s disturbing dreams. Dean had punched him on more than one occasion so Sam always held him down and spoke to him loudly but calmly until he came round. This could take a few minutes as often Dean was still “in” the dream. Today he struggled briefly, muttered and cursed then his eyes focussed on Sam and his breathing evened out.

“Crap. Sorry.” He relaxed and Sam let him go. “Did I hit you?”

“Nah. I held on. You okay?”

“Peachy.” Dean stretched and yawned. “What time’s it?”

“Um, 1.30. You hungry?” Sam’s stomach rumbled on cue.

“Not really but sounds like you are. I’ll make us some scrambled eggs and bacon.”

“I’ll do it, you should….”

“I’m not laying here all fucking day, Sammy!” Dean grumbled, hauling himself off of the sofa. “I’m okay. I can manage to cook eggs.”

“Fine!” Sam snapped back. “Jerk.”

“Bitch.” Dean grinned and slapped Sam’s back as he walked by him.


Dean had to take two days off work. Joe was insistent that Dean needed a clear 48 hours following his concussion before returning to his duties. Sam fussed around him on Sunday and they went out for lunch and a short hike along the beach. One thing Dean loved about his new civilian life was living so close to the ocean. On Monday he drove himself down to the beach and walked for a few miles, then sat staring at the ocean, amazed by its vastness and constantly changing colours. As he watched the waves his thoughts wandered to Julia. How could he start anything with her, with anyone? It wouldn’t be fair to drag someone into his messed up life.

“Dean.” Dean’s whole body went rigid and he reached for his knife before he realised it was Castiel.

“Fuck! Cas, I’ve told you not to sneak up on me!” Dean grumbled.

“I did not sneak up. I sat next to you. I coughed politely. I said your name three times before you heard me.” Castiel regarded him calmly. “You are ill.”

“Not ill, exactly. I just hit my head. What are you doing here?” Dean looked at Castiel, pleased to see that the angel appeared to be much healthier than he had been a few months ago. Although Castiel’s grace had been restored, he was still not back to his full capabilities and explained he needed time to heal completely.

“You know I am linked to you, Dean. I felt your distress.”

“I’m fine.” Dean couldn’t look into those wide blue eyes any longer. He stared out at the ocean.

“The dreams are no better?” Castiel asked.

“No. Just the same. Every night. Or day. I hate disturbing Sam. Perhaps I should get my own place….”

“That would be unwise.” Castiel touched his elbow. “Dean, I am sorry I cannot heal you.”

“Cas, I told you it’s okay. You and Sam, you….you saved me. Brought me back. You did all you could and I’m grateful.” Dean said, staring down at Castiel’s hand on his arm, wishing he could feel the touch.

“But you’re not happy.” Castiel said, moving his hand away from Dean with a sigh.

“I’ll never be happy Cas.” Dean said, regretfully. “I can’t.”

“I am sorry.” Castiel said sincerely.

“Don’t be. I’m….content. I guess that’s the word. Life is pretty good.”

“You miss hunting.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement.

Dean nodded.

“And sex.” Castiel added, matter-of-factly.

“Fucking hell, Cas!” Dean chuckled. “That’s kinda personal!” He looked around, checking that no one else was around, but apart from a couple walking their dog further down the beach, they were alone.

“This woman at work, Julia. You should trust her. You should tell her….”

“Tell her what?” Dean said angrily. “Tell her I was Crowley’s second in command for six months and ripped demons apart with my bare hands? That I loved to slice them up, loved to make them bleed and that every night I dream they have me on the rack, getting their revenge? Great plan.” Dean had turned to face Castiel, unsure if he was mad at Cas or himself.

“You could adjust the truth. She believes you were in the army. You are good at developing a story. She can help you. She has a beautiful soul.” Castiel said, not reacting to Dean’s anger.

“Her ass ain’t bad either,” Dean said flippantly, hoping to change the subject.

“She has a pleasing body.” Castiel nodded. “I am pleased you noticed.”

“Fuck you.” Dean stood up. He stared out at the ocean and added, “It’s only my right arm that’s dead, Cas, not anything else.”

“Julia has made you have feel truly alive again.”

“You know too much about me. Creeps me out.” Dean shuddered, looking down at Castiel, who still sat on the sand.

“We share a profound bond, Dean.” Castiel’s blue eyes twinkled and Dean saw the slight smile.

“Still creeps me out.” Dean grinned. “You’re like a god-damned stalker!”

“You always do this, attempt to change the subject. We were discussing your feelings for Julia, not your paranoia.”

“Okay.” Dean sighed and ran his good hand through his hair. “Yes, I like her. Yes she has made me have feelings and I wish I could let myself trust her. But it’s pointless.”

Castiel stood up and stretched his arms out a little. “Just talk to her. Get to know her. She’s a good person.”

“You’re leaving?” Dean suddenly didn’t want to be alone. As infuriating as Cas sometimes was, Dean liked talking to him. He was always so direct and often this helped Dean to see things more clearly.

“Yes. I will come back soon. Perhaps you and Sam could host one for your barbecues.”

“But you don’t eat….”

“I do now. I don’t need to eat but I find it pleasurable. I learned that from you.”

Dean grimaced. He had said almost the exact same words to Cas and Sam while he was “dead” - “I don’t need to eat, but I still like it. And I ain’t gotta worry about calories or cholesterol anymore!”

“Don’t scowl, Dean.” Castiel smiled at him. “It’s a good thing as I appreciate human appetites much more. I understand the joy a simple but delicious meal can bring.”

“Okay, we’ll throw a barbecue party next week.”

“And invite Julia?” Castiel asked with a wink.

“Only if I can tell her you’re a socially awkward Mormon.” Dean retorted.


Sam was pleased Dean had struck up a friendship with Julia. It made him feel less guilty about spending time with Natalie. Of course it was very early days for Dean and Julia, and they may not become anything more than good friends, but Dean needed that. If Sam was honest he needed that too, for Dean to be more sociable, to make new friends. Sure he got on with Joe, but the man was his boss and they didn’t meet outside of work. Apart from Cas and Jodi, there was no one Dean spoke to on a deeper emotional level. It all fell upon Sam. The anger, the guilt, the despair, the frustration. And yes, Dean was grateful to have been saved, yet he wasn’t free of the Mark, it still haunted his dreams and had disabled him both physically and emotionally.

Sam closed his laptop with a sigh and glanced at the clock. Dean should be back from his trip to the beach soon and was picking up pizza on the way. Sam got some beers out and cleared the table so they could sit and eat. A few minutes later, Dean arrived holding a bag containing coleslaw, salad and fries and Sam collected the pizza boxes from the car, as “the damned stupid boxes” were difficult for Dean to carry with one hand.

Dean looked tired and a little sunburnt after having been to the beach and his freckles stood out against his pink skin. Sam was amazed that after all Dean had been through, he still looked so boyish at times; he could easily pass as ten years younger until you looked into his eyes and saw more than a lifetime of sorrow, pain and guilt there.

“Rabbit food for ya.” Dean said throwing a pot of mixed salad across to Sam, then sitting down.

“It wouldn’t hurt you to eat more healthily Dean.” Sam said, snagging the salad in the air easily as he sat down opposite his brother.

“I got “slaw. That’s like salad.”

“It’s covered in mayo. And you have fries. You really don’t need fries with pizza.” Sam waited for a suitably Dean-like rebuttal. None came. Dean had opened the pizza box and was holding a slice of pizza. Just staring at the kitchen cabinet like it held some secret code. “Earth to Dean?”

“What?” Dean looked puzzled.

“You zoned out.” Sam didn’t add again.

Dean adopted a smirk to cover it up. “Nah, you were bleating on about healthy eating, I’ve heard all that shit before.”

“It’s more than that,” Sam opened up the salad pot and shook it onto his plate. “Spill it.”

Dean frowned, then said. “Sammy, I….well, Cas turned up on the beach.”
“Really? Is he okay? Why did he turn up…?”

“I guess he knew I got hurt, with the concussion. And he knows about Julia; he’s like the worst or best fucking stalker ever!” Dean shuddered.

“He knows entirely too much about me.”

“So, Julia?” Sam knew Dean was hedging around the subject.

“He thinks I should trust her. Open up to her. And I know you do, too.”

Dean pushed his plate of food away, almost untouched. “I don’t know how…how to even start and it’s so god-damned stupid, I mean I lived with Lisa for a year, I’ve never had trouble talking to women, but I feel…shit…I feel like a fucking teenager again!”

“It’s a long time since you dated Dean and that experience with the Amazon put you off long before you died, as I recall.” Sam said as he picked up a slice of pizza.

“Don’t remind me!” Dean shuddered again. “I don’t know if I can ever have a relationship, a proper one, but I think I’d just like to take her out, buy her dinner, get to know her.”

“That’s great, Dean!” Sam grinned.

“Hey, I’m just thinking of dating her, not marrying her!” Dean grumbled.



It had been a long time, as Sam had said a few nights ago, since he had dated, but he figured it was like riding a bike, just climb back on the saddle and pedal. Simple. Julia was hanging around after her shift again, and Dean knew it was his chance. It was just the two of them in the bar.

“So, um, would you like a lift home?” Dean asked. Julia looked across the bar at him as she wiped the surface over with a cloth.

“Yes, please,” She smiled but it wasn’t her usual happy grin.

“Everything okay?” He asked, realising that she had been quiet all shift, so perhaps this wasn’t a good time to make his move after all.

“Yeah…um, no. Not really.” Julia leaned against the bar and stared down at it. “My sister went on a camping trip a few days ago with friends; she was due back yesterday and she hasn’t turned up. Her flat mate contacted me and we’ve both tried to reach her but…”

Dean felt a familiar tingle up his spine, the feeling he always got when there was a hunt. He instinctively knew something was very wrong here but he plastered on a fake smile. “Hey, don’t worry, there could be any number of reasons – no cell reception, car broke down, they stopped over an extra night, anything.”

“I guess so.” Julia gave him a tired smile. “I just worry, she’s my little sister, and I feel kinda responsible for her, you know.” Dean wanted to laugh. Oh yes he knew, he knew extremely well. “She’s in her first year at Stanford and we’re a long way from home, so I look out for her.”

“I understand, I’m a big brother and I’d be worried too, but she’s with friends, she’ll be okay.” Dean lied hoping it was convincing. Julia nodded and sighed. She looked so vulnerable and scared Dean just wanted to protect her.

“Hey, come here,” He held out his good arm and she moved closer to his body, letting him wrap his arm around her waist and pull her in close.

“She’ll be okay.” He whispered into her ear, a little intoxicated by the smell of her shampoo, the feeling of her small body pressed against his. He wished his other arm worked and that he could tilt her chin up and kiss her. She seemed to read his mind as she looked up into his face with a sad smile.

“I’ve wanted to be this close to you for so long, Dean.” She reached up and stroked his face tenderly.

“I’m sorry.” Dean felt himself blush. “I-I wanted to ask you, I was going to tonight, my timing sucks.”

“No, it’s not your fault. My life sucks.” She pulled his head down and kissed him briefly on the lips. Dean hadn’t experienced anything so sweet or tender for so long that he felt his eyes sting with tears. “Just as lovely as I imagined.” She smiled then looked upset as a tear ran down his face. “Oh God, Dean!”

“Shit!” Dean pulled away and rubbed his eyes angrily. “I’m sorry, I don’t…I can’t…Shit! I’m supposed to be comforting you, not bawling like a big girl.”

“Hey, you have been comforting me, come back here.” Julia reached out and pulled him back. Dean buried his head in her hair and held back his tears. It felt so good to hold someone, to be held, to feel a warm body against his. “This isn’t great timing Dean, but I’d love to get to know you better. If you were going to ask me out I would have said yes. I am saying yes.”

Dean pulled away, smiling at her. “Dinner? Our next night off?”

“Yep. Sounds great.” Julia smiled back, then her cell started to vibrate. She pulled away and scanned the screen. “Shit. It’s Debra’s flatmate. Still no word from her or the other two girls.”

“Just the three of them went camping?” Dean asked, his heart pounding with fear. Three young girls alone in the forest were perfect prey for something like a wendigo.

“Yeah, but it’s a popular area, Portola Redwoods State Park,” she said as she raised an eyebrow. “Do you know it?” Dean shook his head. “It’s about an hour from her. They weren’t just camping in the woods alone. They would have used the campsites.”

“Have you contacted the Rangers?” Dean asked, his heart racing.

“Yes, they are looking for them but they said cell reception can be bad out there and the girls may just have got lost.”

“Do you wanna go up there? I’ll come with you.” Dean offered.

“Really?” Julia’s face brightened. “You’d do that?”

“Well it’s not the first date I had in mind, but…” Dean smiled. “We’re both on the late shift tomorrow, so if we go to the Park in the morning we can spend a few hours there before getting back for work.”

“That would be so great. Thank you!” Julia threw her arms around him and hugged him. Dean was taken aback for a moment, then he wrapped his arm around her slender waist. He wanted to kiss her, but also wanted to just stand there and hold her, feel the warmth of her body against his.

Julia pulled away, smiling and a little flushed. “Um, we should probably go, what with the early start.”

“Yeah, sure.” Dean grinned back. They locked up and then Dean drove her home. They didn’t speak much in the car, just planned what time to set out, but when Dean pulled up in front of her apartment block she didn’t move to get out. Dean waited for her to speak.

“I’m scared, Dean.” She said, gazing out of the window. “There are mountain lions out there. Or it could be some deranged serial killer. Or….”

“Or they lost the trail and are miserable and cold and feeling stupid, but fine.” Dean lied. “You’ll feel better once we get there. It’s hard to wait around for news.”

“Dean, would you….will you….stay? With me? Just to keep me company, not, well…. I don’t want to be alone.” Julia asked, twisting her hands in her lap, not looking up at him.

“Um, sure.” Dean agreed, but he dreaded the phone call he would have to make to Sam, knowing that Sam would be putting two and two together and making six. “We can get an early start then, too. I just need to let Sam know.”

Julia was visibly relieved and she gave Dean a tired smile. “Come up when you’re ready. Apartment 5, first floor.”

Once she had gone Dean phoned Sam and, as expected, he was over the moon at Dean’s news. Not only was Dean staying overnight at Julia’s but he was going hiking the next day? Sam was beside himself with joy. Dean knew that Sam would take both of these events as signs that Dean was “recovering”. Getting his life back on track. Dating. Having sex. Dean smiled wryly to himself as he sat in the car after ending the call.

If Sam knew it was a potential hunt he would completely freak out. Dean had mentioned getting back into hunting more than once and on each occasion Sam had been angry and upset. The words “no way”, “you only have one functioning arm”, “we’ve given enough”, “you’ve suffered enough” and “you promised” featuring prominently.

And it was those last two words that kept Dean away from the websites, away from the local papers, away from anything with a whiff of the supernatural. Dean had promised Sam that he would give up the hunt and live “normal” because Sam could not stand to lose him again, to live in fear again. Dean he had let his brother down too many times in the past and wanted to keep his promises this time.

Dean sighed and climbed out of the car. He had butterflies zooming around in his stomach and he wasn’t sure if they were the result of being alone with Julia or the prospect of looking for her sister.

Julia opened the door looking exhausted but Dean could tell from the way her hands fluttered nervously that she was too anxious to sleep. She smiled at him and invited him in. The apartment was small, the living area and kitchen were combined and there was a small hallway leading to the bathroom and bedroom.

“Do you want a drink? Coffee or beer?”

“Just a glass of water please. You should get some rest.” Dean followed her into the kitchen area and leaned against the counter, watching as she got a glass from the cupboard and filled it up, noticing the way her hand shook.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep. I’ll get you some bedding for the couch.” Dean took the glass she offered and put it down, grabbing her arm.

“I won’t be able to sleep either.” He said. “Come here.” He pulled her close and she leant against him. It was enough for Dean just to have this and he guessed Julia felt the same as she just stayed where she was, her arms around his waist.

“Dean, let’s watch a movie.” She said, pulling away from him. “We can curl up on the couch together.”

“Sure.” Dean smiled, realising it was the first genuine smile he had given anyone but Sam in months. “That sounds….nice.”

Julia giggled. “Nice? You’re easily pleased.”

“I haven’t curled up and watched a movie with a girl in…”He frowned, trying to recall. “I can’t remember.” He had remembered but he didn’t want to talk about Lisa, not right now.

“Well come on then, my choice.” Julia found some romcom that Dean had never heard of and sat next to him on the couch. Soon she was leaning against him, her head on his shoulder, fast asleep.

Dean turned the volume down and changed channels, finding an action movie that was almost gripping enough to take his mind off of….things. Lying to Sam always made him feel bad but he reasoned that he hadn’t really lied, he had just neglected to tell Sam the whole story. Anyway, he was probably over-reacting, people went missing all the time and it wasn’t always due to some cave-dwelling monster. He was really tired, but he couldn’t risk falling asleep. Julia was already so worried about her sister he didn’t need to wake her up to his screams.

Part Two