Chapter Text
A normal day in the life of Dean Winchester went a bit like this.
At six-thirty A.M. Led Zeppelin’s ‘When the Levee Breaks’ blared from across the room, and Dean rolled over with a groan. He stuck his head under the sheets and slept until the song looped, then with a grudge in his heart Dean got up to shut the damn alarm off. This was followed by a quick shower, getting dressed, leaving a note for the blonde (or brunette…or redhead…) that was probably still asleep in his bed, and a quick trip to Starbucks before sliding into the Carver Elementary parking lot at exactly eight o’clock.
He’d then stride into the tiny elementary classroom and try to perk up before his kids arrived, putting out vocabulary packets on each of their desks to start the day. The children piled in around eight-thirty, and then Dean was teaching a bunch of first graders about the magic of words by nine. The rest of the school day was filled with English lessons, counting legos, reading time, and even a group sing-along to ‘Baby Beluga’ before the bell rang at two-thirty. By three Dean was alone once again, and he turned up the classic rock station as he wrote ‘good job!’ on what felt like a thousand crumpled homework papers.
At three forty-five, Dean’s best friend and Carver Elementary chef, Benny Lafitte, showed up with a wide grin, wondering about Dean’s dinner plans. Of course he never had any, Dean was not one to spend his nights at home, so the two of them headed out to Angelz, a strip club slash dive bar in downtown Lawrence at five o’clock. They watched as girls flung themselves across the stage to trashy music, and Dean even threw a few twenties at a blonde who was giving him bedroom eyes from the pole. He was going to get her for Benny, but it was a dark haired man from across the room who grabbed his friend’s attention, and the two of them were gone before seven.
Dean knew it was probably wrong; he was a thirty-six year old elementary teacher who was frequenting the nastiest strip club in town. He should be married by now and be thinking about kids and a future outside of Lawrence, but the minute the blonde he was eyeing got off her shift and slid up next to Dean at the bar, he forgot to care.
By eight-thirty Dean found himself pushed against his apartment door with the blonde sucking hickeys onto his neck.
By nine their clothes were off, and Dean groaned as the woman gave him mind-blowing pleasure, his body roaring like waves before a storm. He was flying, floating, more alive than he had ever been, and when it was over he fell onto the mattress, grinned at the blonde, pecked a kiss on her lips and asked, “So…what’s your name?”
Dean learned it was Pricilla.
The two took a long shower together and curled up in Dean’s bed, Pricilla’s head resting on his bare chest. They were asleep by eleven, and then the alarm blared again at six-thirty, signaling the start of a new day. He wrote this Pricilla a note and headed off to Carver, and so it went.
This was the typical cycle of Dean Winchester’s life, until the one day it wasn’t.
It all began on a Friday afternoon. The bell rang and all the children stampeded out of the room, their little arms filled with every school assignment they’d completed over the past year. A chorus of “Goodbye, Mr. Winchester!” echoed down the hall as they headed out to their buses, and Dean felt a little down that he wouldn’t see these kids until after summer break was over, and even then they wouldn’t be his kids anymore. However, Dean pushed it aside. With a little grin he walked over and flicked on his Bon Jovi CD, singing along to ‘Who Says You Can’t Go Home’ as he picked up left behind papers and forgotten crayons.
He was belting out the chorus when Benny appeared in his door a few minutes later, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed over his chest.
“Is that what you call grading, brother?” Benny asked in his Southern drawl, his lips pursing over the last word.
Dean hid his face and turned off the music, putting his collected items on the nearest desk. “I was getting to it…” he trailed off, but Benny could see through his act. He didn’t become Dean’s best friend by letting things slide by easily.
“Yeah, sure you were. Is that why you’re blowin’ me off tonight? To pick up bad drawings of rainbows and sing along to classic rock?”
He glared at Benny and pinned the offending picture to his desk, then leaned back against the wooden surface. “Hey, don’t insult my kids’ work. That’s the one thing I don’t stand for, buddy.”
Benny threw up his hands and walked backwards. “Okay, okay! I get it! Sorry, brother. I’m just wonderin’ what’s keepin’ you from the lovely ladies of Angelz? It’s not like you’ve ever refused before.”
Dean huffed out a breath and tapped his fingers against his thigh. “I’m just not feeling it tonight, Ben. Call me tomorrow and I’ll go with ya. I just need a night to really focus on getting grades in, okay?”
Benny playfully scowled at Dean but then shrugged. “It’s your loss, brother. I heard Jasmine’s workin’ tonight and if you’re not gonna make a move on her, then I will.”
Dean shooed Benny away with his hand and picked up the stack of papers on his desk. “Go, have fun. Bang that Jasmine and tell me all about it tomorrow. I’ll probably be asleep at my desk if you need an out.”
Benny threw Dean one last wink before leaving him alone again.
Dean looked down at the papers and grabbed a pen, but couldn't get himself to actually fill anything out. He was daydreaming about blondes in tiny bikinis and images of busty beauties with daddy issues throwing off their clothes. His body automatically tensed when he thought of the girl he had in his bed last night, a brunette named Lily that rocked his world.
Yeah, why was he turning down Benny’s offer again?
He picked up his phone and dialed the familiar number, his fingers flying over the keypad easily.
“Brother?” Benny answered, and Dean could hear the grin in his voice.
“Benny! Save me a place at the bar,” he said, already grabbing his briefcase from behind the desk. “I’m calling dibs on Jasmine.”
At three in the morning Dean drunkenly staggered up to his apartment door singing ‘Back in Black’ as he fumbled for his keys. He groped in his pockets, not even flinching when he pricked his finger on the sharp edge of the metal; he just shoved the key in the lock and entered his dark apartment, his voice screeching as he sung out the chorus.
“Well I’m back, yes I’m back, well I’m back, yes I’m back-“
“You’re still singing that song after all these years? Get a radio, Dean.”
No, it couldn’t be. But it was. When Dean turned towards the voice, the one and only Castiel Novak was lounged on his couch, flipping through an issue of Classics Weekly. The little frown that was on Castiel’s face brought a pang to Dean’s gut, because it was the exact same look he got all those years ago after their infamous fight. And when Castiel brought those familiar, brilliant blue eyes up to his, Dean felt the past come back to him in full detail.
Suddenly, Dean wasn’t in his apartment anymore. He was back at the Roadhouse with his fingers clutching the bar as he discreetly took a swig from Ash’s flask. He was driving in the Impala with the windows rolled down on an eighty-five degree day, the wind blowing through his hair as he belted out the chorus to Rambling On. He was running through city streets and setting off fireworks and eating the most delicious diner food he’d ever tasted. He was living eighteen years in the past, his mind flying with images of cheap bars and country roads, high school graduation and classic rock, old friends and drinking games. He was lost in memories of the best and worst summer of his life, the one where he got into his newly acquired Chevy Impala and took to the road, his best friend by his side as they traveled the country. He cringed when less than pleasurable memories filled his thoughts, fights and heated arguments between friends overflowing until they never spoke again.
Well, until now.
“Castiel?” Dean asked quietly. “What…how the hell did you get into my apartment? What are you doing here?”
Castiel got up from the couch and made his way over to the kitchen, grabbing two beers from the fridge like he’d lived there forever. It should have made Dean angry, but it only brought nostalgia to his being. He took the beverage without thinking and popped open the bottle, taking a pull quickly. Maybe if he was a little drunker than he already was things would make sense.
“Castiel? Really now, Dean? You used to call me Cas; was our parting that destructive that you can’t call me Cas anymore?”
Dean took a seat next to his old friend on the couch and leaned back into the cushions. “We were friends then, but I think that title went away a long time ago. Are we friends, Castiel? We haven’t talked in years; I don’t think I deserve your friendship after what happened.”
Castiel averted his eyes and focused on the untouched beer instead. He fiddled with the top and clicked it off, taking a long pull before he looked at Dean again. “That was a long time ago, Dean. Can’t we just put it past us?”
Dean let out a snort. This whole situation was absolutely weird, and he wondered if he was passed out drunk at Sammy’s and this was all a dream. Why else would Castiel Novak be back in his life? Why else would the boy who said ‘Dean Winchester, you’re a coward and I never want to see you again’ be in his living room? It had to be one big, alcohol induced dream.
“Why are you even here, Castiel? How did you even know I’m in Lawrence? You went to Yale and never came back. You got out, a feat most of us only dream of. Why?”
Castiel ran a finger over the rim of his bottle and fidgeted with the label. “I was missing home, believe it or not. I came back to visit Robin and then I saw an article about you in the paper. Teacher of the Year? That’s quite the accomplishment for the boy who said he didn’t want to go to college,” Castiel replied, and a light rose color appeared on Dean’s cheeks. “When I read that you were a teacher in town I assumed Sam was here too, and then it only took a little digging on the internet get his number. We got coffee, I told him about my idea for us, and then he gave me the spare key to your place. I thought you would be home earlier though…”
Dean studied Castiel intently. The boy who left him all those years ago was a man now, one with scruff and crinkles around his eyes. His voice was lower and he looked weathered with the new lines on his hands and face. He was thirty-six now, and that was enough time for Castiel to have gone out and traveled the world like he always said he would. He’d probably been to different countries, probably knew a few different languages. He’d probably taken the world as his oyster with his fancy law degree from Yale, and what had Dean done? He had frequented the strip clubs and had a one night stand record that would make Hugh Hefner jealous. But one part of Castiel’s explanation caught Dean’s attention.
“Plans for us? What plans?” Dean questioned with a raised eyebrow. “We have no plans, Castiel.”
The other man leaned back into the cushions and fiddled with his fingers, ignoring Dean’s probing gaze. “You may not have a plan, but I do. Why do you think I tracked you down, Dean? I have a proposition to make.”
Dean turned his head and studied Castiel, trying to figure out the hidden meaning in the words. “Okay then, just tell me. What are you thinking about?”
Castiel turned his full force stare on Dean. “Come with me.”
Dean stared back, open-mouthed, a thousand questions running through his head. After all they’ve been through, after everything Dean said, after years of being apart, Castiel wanted to run away with him? Yep, I’m definitely passed out drunk somewhere. This can’t be real.
“Uh…ah…what?” Dean questioned, because he couldn’t think of anything else to say.
“Come away with me, Dean. I miss our friendship and I want to get it back. You’ve got the Impala, I’ve got the cash. Let’s recreate our 1997 road trip. We will travel from Lawrence to Los Angeles, visiting all the old hangouts and dive bars we frequented. We will go visit all the old sites, see all our old friends, relive the glory days. So…what do you say?”
“No.” Dean threw up his hands and paced the length of the living room. “No, no, no, no, no! You can’t just barge in here after eighteen years of radio silence and ask me to run away with you! I can’t do it! I won’t!” Dean ranted, and he didn’t know that he was twirling in circles until Castiel got up and put a hand on his arm.
“Dean,” he whispered under his breath, and the absolute peace he found in Castiel’s gaze made him pause. “I know this is weird and that we haven’t talked since the fight, but I’m ready to forgive and forget. The question is...are you?”
He looked over at Castiel and couldn’t ignore the enthusiasm he saw there. The man was practically beaming with pride over this idea, and he was fidgeting like a child going to Disneyland. Those bright blue eyes that could light up any room were glowing, and his brilliant smile still dazzled after all these years. Dean almost said yes, but then his mind caught up and he remembered why they stopped being friends, why they haven’t spoken, and if Dean was going to do this then he needed to give Castiel one hell of an apology first.
“Castiel…I want to say yes. I really do because I miss you too, but what if history repeats itself? We said some pretty nasty things to one another and I want to forget about that, but can you? I’m sorry, man. I’m sorry that I called you that horrible name, and I shouldn’t have pushed you away when you were just telling me the truth. I can forget about it; hell, I haven’t thought about that day in years, but what about you?”
He glanced up and found those blue eyes staring into his. All he saw was excitement and even a little bit of forgiveness, and Dean’s body relaxed.
“Would I be here if I haven’t forgiven you, Dean? We were eighteen and things were different back then. We’re older, matured. I’m positive that you wouldn’t say those things now…would you?”
“No, of course not,” Dean replied instantly. “I was a big, freaking douchebag back then.”
“You really were,” the other man laughed, “but I’m long past it. I do need an answer though. Are we going through with this trip or not?”
Dean ignored all the other thoughts that were racing through his head, at least the wise ones that were telling him that this was a horrible idea and was bound to end in disaster. He threw Castiel a wide grin. “Okay, let’s do it. You, me, and the open road. Just like the old days, right?”
“Exactly! Now pack a bag, Winchester,” Castiel said with a little grin. “We’re leaving in five.”
June 7th, 1997
“Dean, you look fine! You’re gonna be late for graduation if you don’t get your ass downstairs!”
Dean turned around from his reflection and took in the sight of his little brother. Sam was all grins, his perfectly pressed shirt looking way nicer than the suit their mother forced Dean into. He rolled his eyes at Sam and knocked one shoulder into his brother’s arm as he walked by. Sam was all too eager for this day, way more excited than Dean was anyway. To Dean, it was just a piece of paper that proved he finished his state mandated education. It wasn’t like he was winning any awards, and he barely passed senior year. Really, Dean didn’t get why his brother was puking rainbows over this.
“I don’t wanna talk about it, Sammy,” he growled under his breath. He grabbed his black graduation robe off the dryer as he passed, his brother trailing close behind. “It’s not like I’m going to college in the fall or winning a Nobel Peace Prize. What’s the big deal?”
“What’s the big deal? You’re graduating high school, Dean! After all the crap that went down this past year, after all the times you said you were dropping out to work for Bobby full time, you pushed past it all and made it! Is it wrong that I’m proud of you?”
Dean couldn’t help but laugh to himself. Sam always had him on a pedestal that he didn’t deserve to be on. He’s a grunt, a boy whose SAT score was barely high enough to constitute colleges sending him pamphlets. He was not special, and it broke Dean’s heart that Sam was aspiring to be like him. Out of everyone his brother could look up to, why him?
“Yeah, well, I’m awesome at pushing past the crap. I’m going to be working for Bobby full time now anyway, so I don’t see why this piece of paper will do me any good. Why am I even goin’?”
A hard punch landed on Dean’s arm and it pulled him out of his pity party.
“Will you shut up and let people be happy for once? Dammit, Dean! After all we’ve been through are you really going to get pissy over one ceremony? We lost Dad and Grandpa all in one year. This is the best thing that’s happened in a long time, so will you please just fake it for one day? If not for me then do it for Mom. Please?”
Ouch, that’s a low blow. His mother truly hadn’t been the same after the string of deaths that haunted the Winchester family over the past year. His father was the first to go, the lung cancer from his years of smoking finally taking him down after a long battle. He was so bad at the end that Dean was almost grateful for his father’s death. John fought valiantly and tried to never show the pain, but they all knew he was miserable and just wanted it to be over. Their grandpa followed shortly after, the grief of his son’s death too much to handle. If dying of a broken heart proved to be a real thing, Henry Winchester would be the prime example of it. Doctors couldn’t even explain his death. Despite his age, the Winchester patriarch was a healthy, vibrant, old dude. Yeah, his cholesterol was a little bit high, but not high enough to cause any major problems. It was almost as if he just faded away into nothing, like his soul was not content with living on earth without his wife and son in it.
“Dean?” Sam asked warily, pulling him back to the present.
“Yeah…okay. I’ll go through with this, but only for Mom. Not for you…bitch,” he said harshly, but Sam could see right through him.
“Jerk,” he replied, swatting Dean’s head with his hand. “Now get downstairs; Mom and Cas are waiting outside.”
His body jerked up at the name. “Cas? Cas is riding with us?”
“His parents aren’t coming to the ceremony. Apparently their church group went on a retreat this weekend that was more important than their kids’ graduation,” Sam said sarcastically, letting the discontent drip over his words.
“Figures. Listen, Mr. and Mrs. Novak may have been like a second family to us since birth, but they really treat their kids like shit at times. Who doesn't come to graduation?”
“Apparently the Novaks? I don’t know, Dean. They’ve always been a bit overbearing with the whole religious thing. Remember when Naomi tried to ‘bless’ me with holy water when we were kids because Cas and I made a blood brother pact?”
Dean laughed at the memory and followed Sam down the stairs. “Yeah, I forgot about that. Didn’t she also think you were possessed at one point?”
They slid into the kitchen and Sam grabbed two protein bars off the counter. He threw one at Dean and Sam opened his with his teeth, taking a bite before answering. “Not possessed,” Sam said around his food, “but influenced by the devil. I was hanging out with that Ruby chick who thought she was a witch. Remember her? She went around casting spells and tried to turn you into a toad.”
Dean laughed once, threw away his protein bar when Sam wasn’t looking, and pulled on his atrocious black robe. He could already feel the stares on his body, and he trembled with the bout of anxiety thrumming through his system. Dean could imagine the hot lights, the applause, the principal grudgingly handing Dean his diploma because let’s face it, Dean was always in her office during the school year.
“Hey, are you okay?” Sam asked, coming around the counter to lay a hand on Dean’s back. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Dean nodded and turned towards the door, his robe billowing out behind him. “Yeah, bitch, I’m fine. You coming?”
Sam sighed loudly and followed Dean out of the door, locking up behind them. They barely stepped five inches out the building before a flash exploded before Dean’s eyes, causing him to see stars.
“What the hell…” Dean muttered under his breath, but then the flash hit him again, harder this time. He recoiled back and blocked his eyes from the brightness, nearly causing Sam to stumble to the ground.
“Dean, honey, will you please stand still so I can take a picture of you?” Mary called from the driveway, all blonde curls and smiles. She was dressed in a floral dress and pumps that looked impossible to walk in, but the most remarkable thing about her was the glow in her eyes, one that hadn’t been there for quite some time.
“Mom…” Dean whined, “You know I hate pictures.”
Mary huffed out a breath and motioned at Sam. “Sam, go stand by your brother. I want this picture to be perfect.”
“You know perfection is not possible in anything,” Sam began to rant, but Dean punched him in the back.
“Shut up, nerd,” Dean growled playfully, and Sam jibed back.
“Cas, can you please pull these two apart?” Mary whined from the sidelines, and then out of nowhere strong hands were pushing the brothers apart, a new figure taking Sam’s place by his side.
Cas looked great in the robe, despite its hideousness. The black brought out the blue in his eyes, making them gleam brighter than usual, and his hair was tousled in just the right way. It was weirdly hot…
Dean shook his head and repressed the blush in his cheeks because he couldn’t feel that way, and Robin would kill him if she found out he was having those thoughts about her twin brother. He pushed Cas aside and ignored Mary’s calls for a picture, instead opting to climb into the front seat of the Impala.
“We’re gonna be late if we don’t get going. Not that I would mind…” Dean trailed off, but the others just laughed and climbed into the Impala with him, Mary taking her rightful place at the driver’s seat. Dean’d been itching to drive the car for years, but ever since his father’s death he didn’t dare bring it up. It was his Dad’s treasure, and it was one of the only physical things Mary had left of her husband. He would never try to take this away from her, ever.
The car ride went quickly and then they were all piling out at the school, excited students and parents running around. Cas’s robe got wrinkled on the ride over so Mary worked at getting out the imperfections while Dean and Sam began their trek to the gym. They didn’t get far before a pair of dainty hands reached up to cover Dean’s eyes.
“Guess who?!” a trilling voice called out from behind him.
He grinned underneath the grip and wrestled the hands off his face. “Let me guess…Jennifer Aniston?” he called back sarcastically. He heard Robin’s frustrated breath ring out from behind his back and he laughed, letting go of her hands.
“How are you, Robin?” Sam called from Dean’s side.
Robin’s hands wrapped around Dean’s belly and she leaned her weight against his back. “I’m good, Samuel,” she replied. “Your brother is a good pillow.”
Dean removed her grip and turned to face her. He was getting a full on Novak pout, one that was supposed to evoke fear in your gut but only ever ended up being adorable, like a puppy. Cas had it down too.
“Hey now, I’m not your personal pillow! Find another boyfriend for that purpose,” he joked as he gazed into her eyes.
She grinned back at him and leaned up to peck a quick kiss to his lips. The little zing that rang through his body made him want to take her out back to the bleachers like they usually did so they could get a quickie in before the ceremony, but she just shook her head no and took his hand instead, leading the way into the crowded gym.
The noise wafted out into the parking lot, Dean froze when they walked inside the room. Hundreds of eyes were trained on the stage where various faculty in fancy attire were crowded around a table of diplomas. Students milled about in their graduation robes and hats, talking excitedly as family and friends filed into the room. They all looked thrilled, something Dean couldn’t muster up even if he tried. Instead all he felt was dread in his gut, a gnawing twist turning last night’s dinner upside down. This couldn’t go well; Dean would mess up. He would probably knock down the table…or the principal…or hell, what if he knocked down the microphone and sent it spiraling into the groups of students? What if it got a guy in the head and he had to go to the hospital? What if…?
He would’ve thought of a thousand other excuses, but a strong grip on his shoulder caused him to calm down. Cas’s hand felt warm and reassuring through the fabric, and Dean let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.
“Dean, you’re panicking,” Cas whispered in his ear.
“Wha? No I’m not!” Dean lied, but his shaking body gave him away.
Cas pulled him aside, dragging him over to the side of the bleachers and turning so Dean couldn’t ignore his piercing stare.
“You have nothing to worry about,” Cas reassured Dean. “All you have to do is go up, grab your diploma, smile at the audience, and go back to your seat. No need for any stage fright.”
Dean attempted to calm down by listening to Cas’s words, but his racing heart was not cooperating.
“I can’t do it, Cas! I hate people looking at me. Worst fear in this damned world.”
Cas couldn’t hide the laugh bubbling behind his lips. “I thought you said flying was the worst fear?”
“Well…they’re both equally horrible. One requires you to stand up there like a museum display, and the other runs the risk of you crashing into the ground at a thousand miles per hour. Not exactly my idea of a good time,” Dean groaned.
“You’re going to be fine. If you need someone to focus on while you’re up there, look for me. I’ll be waving at you from the audience,” Cas vowed. “Dean, look at me.”
His eyes landed on Cas’s. “Man…”
“You have nothing to be afraid of,” Cas interrupted, his hand coming down to grab Dean’s. “I’m here for you, Robin is here for you, your family is here for you. You deserve this.”
Dean gulped and gazed down at their cupped hands. Cas’s temperature always ran a bit higher than normal, and he was always a go-to when anyone was feeling cold. Dean lingered in the warmth radiating off of his best friend and wanted to lean into his heat, but Dean resisted the urge and pushed away.
“Don’t get all gooey on me, Cas. We’re guys; we don’t do that.”
Cas sighed and turned away from Dean, walking back towards the crowd. “You are your father’s son, you know that?”
“Damn right I am. Now get in your spot; the ceremony is starting.”
Cas just threw Dean an amused grin before walking over to the N section of the auditorium and taking his place next to Robin. Dean watched the twins for a few seconds before turning towards the Ws. He tried to fool himself into believing that there weren’t that many people in the crowd, but when the quiet orchestra music turned into the grand notes of the processional, Dean felt his pulse speed up, regardless. He tried breathing easily, clenching his hands into fists, but nothing could offset the angry, loud rumbling of his nervous stomach.
Dean considered ditching. Would anyone notice if he just didn’t go up there to grab his diploma? After all the infraction notices that were sent to his house throughout the years, they’d know where to send the flimsy piece of paper that was up on the stage. He could just go out to the Impala, blast his father’s old cassette tapes, and lose himself in the beats of Zeppelin.
However, a voice from behind ended that plan before it even started.
“Move it, Winchester!” a boy called, and then he was being pushed along with the rest of the processional line. The eyes of the crowd flitted over his body, and it took everything in him to walk all the way to his chair without visibly trembling.
Things went by quickly after that. The principal got up to make her grand speech about futures. Kevin Tran, the valedictorian, spoke about how they are they next generation and how they need to be the change in the world. Then, before Dean even realized it, the line of students moved up to the stage. Loud applause erupted as every student received their diploma, one face after another flying by quickly. Dean was too busy fighting off his urge to run back to his car that the only person he actually paid attention to was Cas. He forgot about his gross, sweaty palms for a second when Cas’ name was called and only bright, overwhelming pride took over as Dean watched his best friend smile for the camera, take his diploma, and promptly leave the stage. He was so intrigued by Cas’s easy movements that he completely missed Robin’s turn across the stage, thoughts caught up in the way Cas owned the gym floor. It looked simple when Cas did it; why was he nervous again?
Too soon for Dean’s taste, the Ws were being called. Walsh, Warrington, Wench, and then…
“Dean Winchester,” the principal called out, and Dean felt himself being shoved into the spotlight, his feet skittering on the slippery platform.
The brightness hit him first. It was like looking into the sun, white blinding him until his eyes adjusted. Then, the eyes of everybody in the room landed on his body. Every gaze was watching him, probably wondering why he wasn’t walking over to his diploma. But then, one face caught his attention in the crowd. Just like he promised, Cas stood up in his seat and threw Dean a wink and a smile. It was enough to make Dean forget everyone else. He walked forward and grabbed the diploma from the principal with a new confidence. One flash of the camera was all Dean waited around for, then he practically ran off the stage as the next name was announced.
He walked back to his seat with shaking hands and a racing heart, the smile on his face too big to contain itself. He did it; he got through the diploma line unscathed and now he was a high school graduate. Even though he tried to push it off like it was nothing, Dean had to admit that he felt pretty good in that moment.
“Congratulations to the Lawrence High School graduating class of 1997!”
Roars erupted as Dean threw his hat with the others, a laugh coming to his lips. It didn’t take long for the students to disperse into the audience, everyone seeking out their various family members and friends. Dean grabbed a random hat off the ground, there really was no way to tell whose was whose anymore, and shuffled off to find Sam and his mother in the crowd. However, he didn’t get far before Robin’s familiar weight fell into his arms.
“We did it! We’re graduates!” she screamed into the open air, a bunch of people turning in their direction.
Dean looked down at his girlfriend and pecked a kiss on her head. Cas appeared seconds later, his hair completely tousled from the now abandoned hat he wore.
And it isn’t attractive at all...no...not at all...
“Wow man, you look wrecked,” Dean commented with a grin.
“Oh hush, no insults today!” Mary chided from behind, replacing Robin in his arms. He leaned into his mother’s hug and felt her grin against his shoulder. “I’m so proud of you, honey.”
“Hey! I wanna hug him too!” Sam whined as he fought through a crowd of people, his unusually tall stature sticking out above the rest.
Dean let go of his mother and took Sammy in his arms, relishing in the absolute pride he felt radiating from his brother’s embrace. He’s usually not one for hugging, or sharing feelings, or anything “chick flicky” for that matter, but Sam always brought it out of him.
“Okay, Samantha. Calm yourself. I couldn’t have done it without ya,” Dean said.
Sam pushed away and smacked Dean on the arm. “Like hell you couldn’t. You’re smarter than you know, jerk.”
“Bitch,” Dean responded out of reflex. “Can we stop all of the feelings now and go home? I’m gonna gag from all the blubbering.”
“Actually, I have a surprise for you outside,” Mary said with a slight smile. “Follow me.”
Dean looked to Sam for some confirmation, but all his brother did was throw him a shrug. In unison, everyone followed Mary out of the school and into the parking lot, where more excited families posed for photos and gave gifts. It was so sappy, Dean could only hope that his mother didn’t go out and buy him an expensive gift full of sentiment, especially since money was so tight.
He was not expecting what was waiting for him around the bend.
“What the-“
“Surprise!” Mary yelled, throwing her hands in the air. “I know you’ve been eyeing it for years, and it’s what your father wanted.”
Dean blinked, then blinked again, trying to comprehend what was in front of him. No, it had to be an illusion, because there was no way the Impala was sitting there all polished and pretty with a giant purple bow on its door. It wasn’t…he couldn’t…
“Mom…this is too much,” Dean said in barely a whisper. “This was Dad’s last gift to you; I can’t take it.”
Mary walked over to Dean’s side and threw her arm around his shoulder. “Trust me, Dean. When you first got your license your father told me that he wanted to give you the Impala for graduation. It was only willed to me because he knew he wouldn’t be around to see this moment. The Impala was always yours, but now it’s just official.”
Dean could feel the eyes on him, everyone waiting for a reaction. But all Dean could do was stare at the Impala in awe, not registering that this car was now his. It wasn’t until Robin nudged him from behind that Dean walked towards the car, getting into the driver’s seat easily. The leather felt familiar but foreign at the same time; he grew up in this car but it never was truly his. The Impala was John’s treasure. The boys learned how to drive in Mary’s old Toyota because John didn’t want to risk damaging the Impala (and he was right to be cautious; Dean totaled Mary’s car the same week he got his license.) Now it was Dean’s, and everything felt right under his fingers.
“There’s something else too!” Mary called from outside.
Dean extracted himself from the car and walked over to his mother, pulling her into another hug. “What else could you give me after all of this?”
Mary lightly pushed Dean away and looked into his eyes. The glimmer there made Mary look ten years younger, like the past year melted away.
“Mom?” Dean asked when she just stared at him with that loving gaze.
Silently, Mary reached into her purse and pulled out a rectangular box. Dean took it from her outstretched hand and carefully undid the top, revealing a folded up cloth underneath.
“You…got me a tablecloth?” Dean asked as he took out the object.
Mary let out a trilling laugh. “No, silly. Open it up.”
Dean glanced down at the paper and flipped it up, revealing a map and seven envelopes underneath. Outlined in purple on the map was a line from Lawrence to Los Angeles, with stars marked as spots in between. He absentmindedly ran his finger over the path, realizing that each place was numbered, one through seven.
“Dad wanted to take you on a road trip when he gave you the Impala. When he was about to pass, he left this on our bed one day with letters…addressed to you.”
Letters? From Dad? Dean didn’t know what to think. During the last days of his father’s life, it was like Dean was dealing with another person. The cancer had turned him into a shell, a person who was not entirely there anymore. Dean’s mind raced with the possibilities of the letters, if possibly they were written before his father slipped away.
“Well, open up that first letter already!” Robin called from beside him, and Dean did. He carefully opened the envelope, which revealed a piece of his father’s worn journal. When Dean pulled it out, on the front of the page was old hunting techniques, and on the back was his father’s careful handwriting.
Dean,
If you’re reading this, then I’m gone from this world. Don’t cry about it boy, because Winchester men don’t cry. I’m probably haunting your ass right now and you don’t even know it. Anyway, if you’re reading this then I’m not around to wish you a happy graduation, but if I was, I’d be telling you that I’m proud. You could’ve been like me, a high school dropout with six bucks to his name, but you didn’t take that path. You finished and that’s all I’ve ever wanted for you.
But that’s not why I’m writing you. If I’m not around, then I never got to take you on a road trip. It was always a dream of mine; I’d take you and Sam out on the road, do some hunting out in Wyoming or Arizona where real game lives. However, I know that’s probably not what you would want. That’s why I’m leaving you with the keys to the Impala and this map. It is marked with the different places I hit up when I was on the road over the years and each one has a little note to explain what I did there. Take a friend with you, go to these places, and remember me. (And don’t you dare take Sam; he’s too young for a few of these places. This is a trip for true men, and you’re one now.)
Live a little, boy. You’re too serious all of the time worrying about Sam, but you don't need to. He’s strong, even if I never told him that. Tell both Sam and your mother that I loved them, still will in whatever is after this.
Son, I love you. Never forget that.
Dad
Dean gaped down at the paper for a few seconds before he looked into the expectant eyes of his family. Mary, Robin, Cas, and Sam all watched him with interested gazes, their bodies tense with anticipation.
He only laughed a little and turned to Cas.
“You wanna go on a road trip?”