Chapter Text
On Route 281, on a starless night in May, a cassette was pushed into Baby’s tape deck. “Back in Black” played over the engine’s roar as oncoming headlights washed over Dean’s grin. He was going home. And he had plans…
Plans that started the moment he parked Baby in her spot in the center of the bunker’s crowded garage, the familiar grease and rubber scent strong as he climbed out and checked his reflection in the back window, smoothed his maroon shirt and straightened his black leather jacket.
“Looking good,” Donna said as she shut her truck door, the engine making little clicks and pings as it cooled.
“You, too.” Dean hugged her, careful of her duffle slung over her shoulder and her hands full of supplies. He took the bag of groceries she carried and peeked inside: party snacks and bacon.
She hoisted a six-pack, offering it. “Here’s to Allentown.”
“Hell yeah.” Dean took two beers. “And being home.”
Donna passed Cas’s truck, its tinted windows fogged, banged twice on the door, and kept walking. Inside, bodies jumped apart, then Claire and Kaia climbed out.
“A night for celebrating, huh, kid?” Dean said as he passed the grocery bag to Claire.
“You’re one to talk.” Kaia smiled, her friendship with Dean new enough that they were still shy around one another.
Claire grimaced. “Spare me.”
“On that note,” Dean said, holding the door for them to enter the bunker ahead of him, “I’m saying goodnight.” He waved as Alex came out of the infirmary to greet Donna, but headed to the war room, a man on a mission.
The bunker was full of people, bustle and noise reminding him of when the Apocalypse World refugees were there, their friendly bickering and hunter shorthand a constant hum. Dean preferred it to the cavernous silence after they’d defeated Chuck.
In the library, Bobby sat behind a stack of books, phone pressed to his ear as he debated with Garth about the wolves of Fenris. Patience reclined on the other side of the table, engrossed in her book, earbuds drowning out their argument. Dean pulled the pouch of lithomantic gems from his pocket and tossed it. Patience caught it without looking up from the page. “Welcome back.”
He clapped her on the shoulder and headed for the kitchen, where Jack rummaged in the refrigerator. “Hey.”
Jack’s face lit. “You’re home.” He left the fridge door open as he met Dean for a hug.
“Yeah, just got back. You seen Sam?”
“Not since lunch.”
On his way out, Dean called back, “Oh, hey, I got you that cereal you like. Top shelf, stashed behind the oatmeal. Don’t tell Sam.”
Jack grinned. “No chance.”
Sam wasn’t in the shooting range with Jody, Jules, Apocalypse Charlie, and Stevie. He wasn’t in the computer room with their Charlie, who was doing lord knows what to the mainframe. As he searched, Dean dragged the bottle caps along the wall, the scrape reminding him of Billie’s scythe, Cas wrapping Dean in his arms, supporting him, the words, “I’ve got you.” He shivered.
Turning a corner, he heard the thud of bodies hitting mats. He paused at the gym’s door to watch Sam and Eileen spar. Eileen broke a hold, swept Sam’s feet out from under him, and the moose landed hard. She bobbed away, laughing. Dean knocked.
Eileen looked up first. “Hey!”
“Nice work,” Dean said, setting down the beers so he could sign the words. He nodded toward Sam as his brother climbed to his feet. Eileen beamed. To Sam, Dean muttered, “Training? Really?”
“Eileen picked.”
“I’ll never understand you two.” He pointed between them, shaking his head, then got to the point. “I’m here. I checked in. Now I’m gonna turn in for the night.”
“Already?” Eileen smirked.
“Long day on the road.”
Sam rolled his eyes.
“Goodnight,” she signed with a wink.
Dean collected the beers and glanced back. Eileen ducked a jab, then darted out of Sam’s reach. Sam’s eyes flashed purple as his spell knocked her feet out from under her. She turned her momentum into a roll that ended at the edge of the mat. She flipped it back to reveal a sigil and slapped her hand down, casting Sam backward, pinning him against the sigil’s mate that she’d hidden behind a towel hanging on the far wall. “Like the day we met,” Sam said.
“I’m a romantic.” She sauntered over, a victorious gleam in her eye, and Dean made his exit before she could claim her prize.
We’re back. Dean’s heart thudded and his belly tightened with anticipation as he stopped at the threshold to his bedroom, gazing inside. He smiled, a man finally playing out his plans.
He shut the door behind him, blocking out the house full of people, their reunions and raucous joy, their laughter and storytelling.
The hallway was empty, the quietest part of the bunker.
Until the explosion from inside Dean’s room splintered the door, casting sparks and glass into the hall, setting off a chain reaction throughout the bunker.