Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Everything had been going pretty well for Dean that day.

That is, everything had been going well right up until Dean, who was walking down East Ninth Street with a new painting for the House tucked under his arm on his way back to the café to speak with Bobby, had pulled his phone out to call Bobby and let him know that he was on his way and walked straight into someone’s back, falling solidly onto his ass.

“Shit!” He groaned as both his phone and the painting went flying from his hands. He looked up and noticed that whomever he’d bumped into was looking down at him with a worried look on his face.

“Y’alright there, brother?” The man asked, sticking his hand out to help Dean up. Taking it, Dean pulled himself up off the ground, grabbing his phone and the painting, both thankfully undamaged, as he stood.

“Yeah, man, m’fine. Sorry about that, shoulda been watching where I was going.” Dean wiped his hands of dust on his jeans and held one out to shake. “Dean Winchester.”

The man shook back firmly. “Benjamin Lafitte, but all my friends call me Benny,” He drawled, comfortable smile on his face. Dean raked Benny’s form up and down. About Dean’s height – maybe taller, but considerably broader, with hair cropped shorter than the full beard that donned his face, and blue eyes that looked tired and worn.

It was in this moment that Dean realized where the two of them were standing – right outside the Alcoholics Anonymous building. Benny seemed to see the realization on Dean’s face, suddenly becoming sheepish. Dean looked up at Benny for a few moments, thinking.

“Hey, man, why don’t you let me buy you a cup of coffee? No offense, but you look kinda beat. Think of it as my apology for running into you. I know a great place over by the University.”

Benny mulled the idea over for a few minutes before nodding. “Thank you, brother.”

They made their way over to the House in relative silence, save for the sound of their shoes scuffing on the sidewalk.

As they walked past the chalkboard sign which sat in front of the House, Benny nodded, saying, “Yeah, y’know, coupla guys were tellin’ me bout this place. Say it’s a real nice joint.”

Dean hummed, opening the door and walking in. “Go ahead and find a place to sit, man, I’ll be right back, just gotta give this to the boss.” He held up the painting and made his way to the office in the back.

Benny sat himself down in one of the booths closest to the windows so he could have a good view of the street. He glanced around the café, noting how full it was, with kids and adults alike sitting at tables and in booths, laughing and smiling over drinks and baked goods. He hadn’t felt so at home in a place since leaving Louisiana.

Dean made his way over with two mugs full of coffee and a plate of jelly-filled shortbread cookies. He slid the one mug over to Benny and sat down in the seat across from him.

“This place is great, brother. You know the owner or something?”

Dean chuckled. “You could say that. It’s kind of between owners right now. Bobby and I are working out the paperwork. My surrogate father owns this place but he’s retiring, so my brother and I are taking over.”

“No shit. Good on you, brother. Y’all ain’t hiring, are you?” Benny asked, trying not to look too hopeful as he took a few of the cookies off of the plate and bit into one. He’d been in town about a month and his savings were starting to dwindle fast.

“Actually, we are. The cook Uncle Rufus is looking to retire too. Can you cook?”

It was Benny’s turn to laugh. “Yeah, my mamma taught me how to cook when I was a kid since it was just me and her.”

Dean nodded. “Alright, well we’ll get to that, but there’s something else I’d like to talk to you about, first, alright?”

Benny grimaced, suddenly apprehensive. “Go on then.”

Dean sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Look, man, it’s not that I don’t trust you – well, I don’t exactly know you but I like to be optimistic about my judgment of people’s character.” He took a sip of his coffee and continued, “So how long have you been in AA?”

Benny let out a deep breath and dragged a hand against his jaw. “Bout two months now. I stayed on back in New Orleans for a lil while when I first, ah, left the Navy. Doc decided it would be best if I got away for a bit, got into some new scenery. Fresh start.”

Dean nodded thoughtfully as Benny spoke. “Got it. I only ask because I don’t wanna hire you and then have to worry about you following off the wagon and not showin up, you know? Are you seein’ anyone up here? A therapist, I mean.”

Benny shook his head. “Ah no. My old doc recommended someone in the area but I haven’t been able to bring myself to go. It’s hard, you know, startin’ over like that with someone new, hashin’ up everything all over again to a stranger.” He finished off his cookies and gulped down what remained of his coffee.

Dean cleared his throat. “Well, if you want the job, I’m more’n happy to give it to you if you can prove to me that you got what it takes. We’ve got a very demanding set of clientele – college kids want their eggs cooked just right and all that kinda shit.” He smirked at Benny, happy to pull a chuckle from the other man. “How about this. Today’s Sunday, right? Thursday night, I want you to meet me here and you can cook dinner and we’ll watch the game. Sound good?”

Benny nodded. “Sounds good to me, brother.” They shook hands again as they got up from the booth, pausing when Dean said, “Just hold up a sec,” and scribbled his phone number onto a napkin before handing it to Benny.

“If you need anything, anything at all, just give me a call, okay? I mean it.”

Chapter Text

Benny nodded, mumbled another, “Thank you, brother,” and made his way out.

“See you Thursday!” Dean called after him, waving, as Sam walked in. “Who was that?” Sam asked, throwing his backpack under the counter.

“Just a friend. Gonna give him a shot at replacing Uncle Rufus. He’s coming over for the game Thursday night.”

“Alright. I’ll be in the library after I get out of class to finish up a group project due Friday morning. You tell Bobby about this guy yet?”

Dean shook his head. “No, not yet. I’m gonna go do that now, actually. You good up here?”

Sam held his hands out in front of him, gesturing to the lack of a line leading up to the café’s register, where Samandriel stood looking bored. “Yeah, Dean, I think we can handle it, right Alfie?”

Samandriel rolled his eyes and nodded. “Yeah, sure.”

Dean grumbled something about sasquatches under his breath as he made his way back.

“Hey Uncle Rufus,” Dean called as he made his way through the kitchen. Rufus grunted and waved a hand, focused on the burgers he had sizzling on the grill top. Reaching the very back of the kitchen, he knocked on the office door, “Hey Bobby?”

“Yeah, yeah, come on in boy. What’s goin’ on?”

“Ah, you know, not a whole lot; I got this new painting for like, ten bucks from some kid I knew back in freshman year.” He leaned towards Bobby from where he was standing in the doorway and handed him the painting.

As Bobby held the painting out in front of him, nodding. “I don’t know what it is, exactly, but I like it.” He set the painting so that it leant against his desk and looked up at Dean, who was twiddling his thumbs. “Anything else you wanna say there, Dean?”

Dean shrugged. “I mean, ya know, I was just thinking, since Uncle Rufus is looking to retire and all, and I uh, I met this guy today who’s looking for a job and I just figured…”

Bobby sighed. “Dean, listen, you’re taking over the House in a month or two here. If you wanna hire this guy, than you can hire this guy. Provided he can cook, and all.”

Dean let out a breath and laughed. “Thanks, Bobby. He’s coming over Thursday night to watch the game, cook up some grub.”

Bobby nodded. “Sounds good to me. Now why don’t you go on and get work, huh? You got other people to hire, paperwork to look over, all that. Get on out of here.”

knock knock

“Heya, Benny, come on in man. Here, lemme take some of those bags,” Dean reached out and grabbed some of the many grocery bags Benny held in his hands and led the way into the kitchen. “So, what’re you planning on making for me, huh?” He asked him, smiling as he set the bags on the counter.

“Well, I was thinkin’ burgers, wings, and my momma’s jambalaya and cornbread.” Benny listed off, setting his share of the bags on the counter and beginning to unload the groceries. “Quite a place you got here, Dean.” He said, eyes roaming the open layout of the apartment.

Dean chuckled. “Uh, thanks man. This is where my brother and I grew up. Our uh, adoptive dad left it to us when he decided to retire. He got a place just outside of town with our Uncle Rufus a month or two ago.” Dean started opening up cabinets, pointing out where everything – pots, pans, cookware – was located within the kitchen. “Oh, yeah,” Dean pulled two six-packs of root beer out of the fridge.

“I uh, bought some root beer, since you can’t drink or nothin’, I know it’s not the same but I just figured, I won’t drink if you can’t, cause that’s not really…” Dean figured it was better to stop talking, before he made an even bigger fool of himself in front of his potential employee.

Benny laughed. “Thank you, brother. I appreciate the thought. Now, if ya don’t mind, I’m gon’ go ahead and get everything started here so we’ll be ready to dig in before the game ends.”

“Oh my God, Benny, this is fuckin’ awesome. Where’d you learn to cook like this?” Dean moaned, taking another bite of his burger.

Benny snorted. “Thanks Dean, my momma taught me everything I know. I’ll let her know what you think when I call her Sunday.”

Dean took a sip of his root beer and thought for a moment. “You talk to her a lot? Your mom?”

“Yeah. At least every Sunday, sometimes during the week. You? You talk to your momma?”

Dean sighed and shook his head. “No, uh, I don’t. My mom died when I was like, four.”

“I’m real sorry to hear that, brother.”

Dean shrugged. “I hardly remember it anymore. Sammy was just a baby, so he doesn’t really remember her at all. All we have is pictures.”

A somber silence hung between them, the only noises were that of the dishwasher running and the commentators yelling at them from the TV. It stayed like that for a while, through most of the first half of the game, broken by bits of fruitless yelling and groaning – not that they saw it that way, sports fans never do - whenever there was a fumble or a bad call.

A few plays into the third quarter, Benny sighed. “You asked me the other day about my drinkin, and AA and all that. I figure I should at least tell you why I started.” A quiet nod from Dean prompted him to continue. “I enlisted in the Navy straight outta high school. I wasn’t smart enough and there wasn’t any money for me to go to college, so I figured I oughta serve my country. My best friend, Roy Webber, enlisted with me. I’d know this kid since pre-k, and we made it all the way through basic together. Made it into the same fleet.” Benny swallowed roughly, forcing himself to continue.

“I was just a steelworker, but Roy, Roy was a mineman. He dove down into the water to disable mines left at the bottom. We were stationed out in Naples, Italy, and he was on a dive, goin down to neutralize some old mines we’d detected. But he, uh,” he took a shuddering breath, “his hand slipped, and he cut the wrong wire. The mine was small enough and the ship was far enough out that no one else got hurt, but he…Roy didn’t make it, Dean. I had to bring that boy home to his momma in pieces. My best friend. I just…I was so lost. When I came home with Roy’s remains,” he sneered the last word, “the first thing I did was pick up a bottle. And then another, and another.”

“I just, I couldn’t stop. It felt so wrong to go back without him, but I had to. But I couldn’t stop drinkin. It, it just consumed me. A few months ago I was dishonorably discharged because I couldn’t stay sober long enough to get anything done. They told me I should see a therapist. My momma made me go and I started goin to AA meetings. My doc and I decided it would be best for me to get outta Mandeville though, seeing as everything reminded me of Roy. Everywhere I looked…there he was, standing on one leg with his jaw torn off. I still have nightmares.”

Dean stayed quiet while Benny talked, and had muted the TV so he’d be able to hear him. “Ya know, I know you said you were having trouble gettin’ back with a new doc, I can give you the number of the one I see. She’s a cool lady, ya know, as far as therapists go. I think you’d be comfortable with her.”

“If you don’t mind me saying, I’m a lil surprised that you see a doc like that. You mind me askin why?”
“Well, seeing as you just bared your soul to me I think I could do the same. Well, uh, you know, I already told you my mom died when I was a kid. About a week after the funeral, I was at home with my dad and Sammy and Dad said he was going to the store quick.” Dean sighed. “Aaand he never came back. After a few hours, I crawled up onto the counter and called the police like my mom always said to do when I didn’t feel safe. No one had any idea where he went. Bobby, the owner of the house, took us in so that we wouldn’t get put into foster care and get separated. Truth be told,” He took a swig of his drink, “I think he knew my mom woulda haunted his ass if he’d let anything happen to us. Plus, ya know, Bobby’s a good man. A good father. But as for the whole therapy thing, my dad leavin’ us really messed me up for a while, ya know? The whole ‘why am I not good enough’, ‘why didn’t he love me’ all that good shit. I felt broken for a really long time. Bobby talked to some people and they recommended Dr. Mosely, and she’s been really good for me. I still see her every now and then, when I get into a particularly bad spot for a while.” Another swig. “So, do you think the AA is helping? You have a sponsor or anything yet?”

Benny shrugged. “I think the AA is helpin a lil bit, but no, I don’t have a sponsor yet. Everyone at the meetings are all matched up already. I’m just the new guy.”

“Well, if you want, I’ll start coming to the meetings with you. Moral support and all that. I know it’s gotta fucking suck being out here all by yourself.” Dean clapped a hand on Benny’s shoulder.

Benny smiled and looked down at his hands. “Thank you, brother.”

Dean nodded. “Of course, man!” He looked back at the screen. Romo was taking a knee, and the game was suddenly over. “Well, I guess that’s the end of that. Here, let me get your plate,” Dean cleared up the table and brought their dishes into the kitchen. “So, man, you’re welcome to hang out for a while if you wanna. Sammy won’t be back for a while, he’s working on some project or whatever, so you can meet him Sunday when you come in for a briefing and everything.”

Benny looked up from his spot on the couch, eyebrows quirked. “Briefing?”

“Yeah man, you know you got the job, fucking cooking like that.” Dean smirked. Benny smiled back.

A few months and more than a few heated conversations with Sam later, Benny was all settled into his new position as line cook for the House. He fit in well and what customers he met seemed to like him, and he finally felt at home and needed like he hadn’t since Roy had died. Dr. Mosely had given him tips for the night mares and for letting Roy go, and commended him on finding not only a job but in making such good friends (“That Dean Winchester is a good boy. He’ll help you however he can without you even askin,”). Which was true. Dean, through a certain turn of events, had ended up being his sponsor: he came to every meeting with him, and then Benny came to Sunday dinner with the rest of the family.

Because that’s what Benny was now. Not just a friend, but family.