Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Never Too Late 

By Waywardgirl222 

This world will never be what I expected. 

And if I don’t belong…

Who would have guessed it?

I will not leave alone 

Everything that I own

To make you feel like it’s not too late

It’s never too late

3 Days Grace

Ch. 1 - Pink is a Troublesome Color

It’s a freezing February day in 1996 and little thirteen year old Sammy Winchester’s got his first crush. She’s a little petite blonde named Jessica Lee Moore. When his older brother Dean looks at him, he can only sigh and wonder where all the time went. It was only yesterday when Dean was feeding him his bottle, changing his kid’s dirty diapers, and bathing him ever so carefully in dingy motel bathtubs that were bigger than the both of them combined. Now, he sees a gangly 5’5” preteen with stringy long brown hair that’s in sore need of a haircut although Sam won’t let shears go anywhere near his head. Dean calls him Sammy-Samson ‘cause he’s never gonna let anyone cut his hair. It might remove his ‘Samsquatch’ strength. At the rate this kid’s growing, Dean fears his brother’s gonna end up taller than him. Dean already stands 6’ tall. That reminds Dean he’s gonna have to round up some more under-the-radar jobs or hustle more money. Sammy-Samson needs ‘new’ clothes from the thrift store, ‘new’ shoes, too. Right now though, the kid’s got a one track mind. He needs a Valentine’s card and a gift for his girl. Dean’s got a girlfriend, too. She’s a spicy petite brunette with a wicked grin and perky breasts named Meg Masters. Dean’s girl prefers gifts of a carnal nature on Valentine’s Day, if you know what I mean. It certainly saves Dean money in the long run and he really doesn’t mind. She’s the gift that keeps on giving even after Valentine’s Day is gone. She tells him all she needs is his roguish green eyes, his own wicked grin, and his cocky attitude and she’s good to go. Dean’s already thinking about all the nasty things they’re gonna do in the back of the Impala. But, today ain’t Valentine’s Day and Dean Winchester has an agenda called ‘How to make $40 stretch into two weeks of food for himself and his brother.’ 

“Ok. Sammy-Samson, we got 8 boxes of Mac and Cheese, 8 cans of Ravioli, 8 packages of Ramen, 4 boxes of generic corn flakes, 2 gallons of milk, 2 loaves of bread, 2 jars of cheap peanut butter, two packages of fake cheese, and 1 precious carton of eggs. If we play our cards right and you eat your free lunch at school, we can eat twice a day for the next two weeks. That’s of course if you don’t eat us out of ‘house and home’ in the meantime.” Their father, John Winchester is hardly ever home and even when he is he isn’t. Dean prides himself on budgeting the meager food allowance their father leaves them. It’s never enough. John either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care. “But, what about your lunch, Dee? What are you gonna eat?” Sam’s looking at a wide variety of Valentine’s cards near the checkout. “Nah, don’t need lunch, Samson. Haven’t had any in a while now. My body’s used to not having it anymore. I’ll live. Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it, Samantha.” Dean gives Sam a noogie. Sam swats Dean’s hand away. “Hey, Dee, can I buy Jessica a card and a gift?” Dean shakes his head. He looks annoyed. “Sammy, you know we ain’t got that kind of money. Can’t you just like make her a card or something?” Deep down Sam knows Dean’s right. They hardly have enough money to feed themselves and Dean already does a litany of questionable things just to get them by. The line’s moving pretty fast, so Dean starts pulling out the crumpled wad of fives and ones from his ripped jean pocket. 

Sam wanders off towards the Valentine’s Day aisle. He’s mesmerized by the array of red and pink stuffed animals and candy displays. He looks over at Dean. He seems pretty preoccupied counting the food items and adding the prices in his head. He wants to make sure he has enough money or else he’s gonna have to put something back. Sam starts looking around to see if anybody’s looking at him. The palms of his hands start sweating. He really likes the pink card with a pink donut covered in sprinkles and hearts. It reads ‘I donut know what I’d do without you this Valentine’s Day.’ He chuckles. It’s so corny that he likes it. Dean would probably laugh at him with this choice of card. He’s eying the small pink Teddy Bear with the red bow on it’s neck. He glances around one more time. The temptation is overwhelming, must be the hormones rampaging through his veins. He shoves the card along with the matching envelope and the small pink bear under his faded blue hoodie. He figures if Dean can get away using his infamous ‘five-finger-discount’ then so can he.

Sam joins Dean at the checkout. The cashier’s a pretty decent looking middle aged redhead whose already smiling and making flirtatious looks at Dean. Dean, being Dean of course, is using this to his best advantage. “Hey, sweetheart, you got any coupons for the milk or the eggs?” He winks at her and she’s already putty in his hands. “Why, yes of course, darling. Anything for you.” She begins yanking out coupons from underneath the counter. Dean starts bagging the items as she rings them up. Dean can’t help but notice Sam’s fidgeting next to him. Dean looks at him with one raised eyebrow. “You gotta take a leak or something, Samson?” Sam turns beet red and frowns. “No!” Dean shirks it off. There’s a portly manager type guy and an officer coming towards them. “That’s $35.79.” Says the redhead. Dean can’t take his eyes off the two men coming their way as he hands the cashier his wad of money. The portly manager looks flustered. “And, about $12-15 dollars more for the card and the Bear!” He says. Dean looks confused while Sammy looks down at his worn out, dirty Chuck Taylor’s. “Excuse me?” Dean looks righteously angry. “We didn’t buy no card or Bear.” Then as soon as he says it, it dawns on him and he turns around to look at Sammy. “Tell me you didn’t.” He says through gritted teeth. Sam doesn’t say anything. Dean runs his hand over his face. A small crowd of ‘Looky-Lou’s’ have already gathered around them. “Sam, I ain’t kidding around here. Did you?” The officer has his arms folded and he’s tapping his foot. Dean looks like he’s about to have a stroke. Sam’s visibly shaking as he pulls out the card and the tiny pink bear from under his hoodie. Dean grabs the items faster than a speeding bullet with his name on it. His big brother instincts come full throttle. “Uh, yeah, these stupid things…uh, yeah, I took them.” Sam’s hazel eyes grow three times bigger. “But, Dean…” Dean stomps on Sam’s instep. The cashier looks utterly confused. She doesn’t remember Dean with those items. “Well? Do you have enough money for those items you swiped?” The manager asks as he looks at Dean with utter contempt and yanks the items out of his hands. Dean grins. He already knows he doesn’t have enough money to cover the items. “Uh, no.” He responds. It’s almost a whisper. “I thought so.” The portly man huffs. “Well? Who’s going down for it? I really don’t give a flying fig if it’s you or your love struck brother. One of you is going to pay for this one way or another.” The officer is coming closer towards Sammy. “It’s me! I did it. I’m a fucking kleptomaniac. Take me. I…what can I say, the girlfriend’s got a thing for pink bears.” Dean takes a step towards the officer. Sam’s about to say something, but Dean gives him his best death stare. The officer begins to take out the handcuffs as Dean swallows hard. Dean looks at Sam straight in the eye. “Sammy, you take these groceries. You should have more than enough food for the next two weeks. Don’t forget the change from this nice cashier.” The officer is already putting Dean’s hands behind his back and cuffing him. “Go into my duffel bag. Look inside my ‘Busty Asian Beauties’ mag. There’s enough money from… you know… to pay the motel room for the next two weeks.” The officer’s already reading Dean the Miranda warning. “Yeah, yeah. I understand my rights. It ain’t anything I haven’t heard before.” Dean’s on the verge of a panic attack. Dean’s putting a brave front, but he knows this will be his second strike. He’s already been arrested for stealing peanut butter, two bananas, and a loaf of bread for his bottomless pit of a brother, Samsquatch last year when he was sixteen. His father’s ‘Let him rot in jail’ words forever branded into his brain. He did his time at Sonny’s Home for Wayward Boys. Who knows what he’s up against now at seventeen. Sam looks like he’s about ready to cry as the redhead hands him the change. “Wait for Dad. When you get a chance, tell him what I did. Ok?” The officer is hauling Dean away. “And, uh…tell Meg I ain’t gonna make it for our Valentine’s Day rendezvous. She’s gonna be super pissed. Just warning you. Hang in there, Sammy.” Dean tries to take one last look at Sammy as he’s being yanked away. Sammy looks so small as he disappears into the horizon. 

Sam Winchester leaves the grocery store with two large paper bags full of groceries, some loose change, and a broken heart. He arrives back at the seedy motel room he and Dean have been staying at. He’s still crying. He puts the groceries away. He grabs the phone book and starts looking up the nearest juvenile detention center. They’ve been staying in Hutchinson, Kansas while their dad was working a werewolf case out of Salina, northeast from here. Sam knew their father hated to be interrupted during a case, but this was important. This was Dean. Sam swallows his pride and calls his dad. To hell with the consequences. “Uh, dad, this is Sammy. Some…something’s happened to Dean. I, I really need you, dad. Please call back. Thanks.” Sam hangs up the phone. He doesn’t really know if John will call back. He remembers all the times they needed their father and he never called back. Dean would have to make an executive decision. Then Dean would pay dearly for making said executive decision whether it was good or bad.  ‘Cause you don’t override John Winchester. Sam remembers when Dean got arrested the last time. It was a horrible time. John didn’t say much. He just dumped Sam at Uncle Bobby’s while Dean just sort of disappeared.  It wasn’t until much later that Sam found out it was his fault that Dean got arrested. Sam had been pestering him for peanut butter and banana sandwiches. As usual, Dean didn’t have the ingredients and John hadn’t left them with enough money. Dean got really good a his ‘five finger discount’ except it wasn’t enough that one time. Sammy cries even more when he thinks about all of Dean’s questionable methods for providing for him. Fuck Sammy’s bottomless pit of a stomach. No wonder Dean never had enough to eat. Now, Sam has twice the food he needs and Dean is God-knows-where. He turns the white pages until he sees the nearest juvenile detention center is in Wichita. So not awesome. Sam Winchester now hates the color pink and Valentine’s Day sucks bigly. He cries himself to sleep. 

Chapter Text

…Even if I say it’ll be alright

Still I hear you say

You want to end your life 

Now and again we try

To just stay alive 

Maybe we’ll turn it all around 

‘Cause it’s not too late

It’s never too late.

3 Days Grace

Dean ends up locked away at the Hutchinson County Jail for the night. They find out that he’s only seventeen and he’s too young for Gen. Pop., but it’s too late for transportation to Wichita. They can’t seem to locate his father. “Can’t seem to locate your old man, Dean.” Dean grunts… like that’s anything new. “Gotta still process you. Photos and fingerprints are next. Dean’s led with a handful of thugs to be photographed and fingerprinted. Yeah, maybe he’s a thief, a thug, but come on now —- a rap sheet for a cheap jar of peanut butter, a couple of overripe bananas, and a loaf of bread? And, now a Valentine’s Day card and a pink bear? The universe must really hate him. “Personal belongings are next. Hand them over.” Dean sighs. He takes off his black military watch, his sterling silver double ridged band, and his amulet. Then he hands over his wallet, his pocket knife, and car keys. The Impala is probably still parked at the grocery store parking lot…probably getting impounded. John’s gonna rip him a new one for that infraction. A shudder goes up his spine when he thinks about what John’s gonna do to him when he finds out about this whole debacle and the car. Well, at least he’s gonna suffer and not Sammy. Next, he gets to wear a hideous orange short sleeve t-shirt with matching orange cotton pants. Awesome. There’s even matching rubber sandals, too. They look equally hideous with his white socks. This day can’t get any worse. Meg would have a field day with him although he could work the whole convict look in his favor. She always likes bad boys. He puts his black t-shirt, his green flannel, his faded ripped Levi’s, & boots in a brown paper bag. The officer takes his stuff away. He’s escorted to a lone cell away from the general population because of his age. The sound of the cell door closing reverberates in the otherwise empty cell block. He’s gotta be honest with himself. He’s scared shitless. This definitely isn’t the way he wanted to spend his evening or the up and coming Valentine’s Day weekend. There’s two bunk beds and a stainless steel toilet and sink combo and not much else. He hopes Sammy’s ok. Damn fucking Valentine’s Day. He curls up on the bunk and cries himself to sleep. 

“Well, kid, your old man can’t be found. Looks like you’re on your way to Wichita. The transport van will be here in an hour.” The officer tells Dean as he hands Dean a brown paper sack with a breakfast sandwich in it. Dean’s mouth starts to water until he realizes what was just said. “Wait! What? You, you can’t do this! I can’t just leave this bumfuck town!” Dean’s yelling, but the officer’s already out of hearing distance. Dean slumps down. A lone tear is already sliding down his left cheek. He opens up the bag and tries to eat the sandwich. He’s really hungry. His stomach’s growling. He realizes he didn’t have anything to eat yesterday come to think about it so he starts to eat.

The transport van comes within the hour. Dean’s shackled hand and foot. He’s placed in the van. He tries to wipe the tears away with the back of his hand. His nose is already stuffed, congested with snot from all the crying. “What’s wrong, cowboy? You ain’t so tough now are you?” The corrections officer is laughing at him as he chains him down in the van. Dean doesn’t give a flying fuck. He’s leaving Hutchinson. He’s leaving his Sammy and he can’t seem to stop crying. The correction’s van door slams shut and locks. Dean’s body trembles just from hearing it. He puts his head in his hands. If it wasn’t for bad luck he’d have no luck at all he thinks. “Goodbye, Sammy.” He whispers. 

John Winchester returns back to the sordid, disreputable motel he left his offspring two weeks ago. He’s been on a high ever since killing the werewolves up in Salinas. There’s been a lot of celebrating with the hunters that he hasn’t had the time to check his phone messages. “Hm. 10 messages from Sam. Oh well, whatever it was, Dean’s probably handled it already.” He says to himself. He unlocks the motel door. “Dean? Sammy? I’m home.” Silence fills the small room. John’s bed is in tact while the bed the boys sleep on is rumpled, empty. There’s no sign of either boy. John opens the bathroom door. Sammy’s sitting on the stained linoleum floor with his arms wrapped around his knees. His face is swollen and splotchy. His eyes are red-rimmed. He can barely breathe because his nose is so congested. “Sam, what’s wrong?” Sammy looks up at him with total contempt. “I called you, dad! I fucking called you ten times!” He’s shouting and he doesn’t care. “Sam, language!” If there’s one thing John Winchester can’t stand is insolence. “Watch your tone, boy!” Sam gets up and runs past John. Shoulder bumping shoulder. Sam sits on his and Dean’s rumpled bed. “Where’s your brother?” Sam gives him his best death glare. Dean would be proud. “That’s what I’ve been calling you about, but you won’t answer the fucking phone!” Slap. John backhand’s Sammy on his left cheek. It hurts, but if it would have been Dean, he’d be on the floor right about now. “Again. Where’s your brother?” Sam rubs his cheek. John usually doesn’t hit Sam very much, but it’s only because his older brother is his human shield he just now realizes. “He…he got arrested.” John’s vein pops out of his forehead. “Again, for fuck’s sake!” Sam glares at him. “Oh, so you get to say fuck, but when Dean and I say it it’s smack down time, huh?” John’s turn to give Sammy the death glare. “What did he do this time?” John asks. Sam’s scratches his head…torn between the truth of the whole incident or Dean’s version of it. The truth shall set you free and all that so he goes with his version. “I shoplifted.” John gives Sam an incredulous look. “What?” Sam squirms. “I, I wanted a gift for my girlfriend so I shoplifted a Valentine’s Day card and a stuffed bear.” There he said it. John ain’t buying what Sam’s selling. “If there’s one thing I can’t stand other than insolence is lying. You didn’t steal anything. Your brother did. He’s always stealing. He probably stole it for that no good whore of a girlfriend he’s got. Meg what’s-her-name…” Sam gulps. “No, dad. It was me. Dean got arrested because of me. He said he did it, but it was me.” Sam’s pleading with his father, but John just keeps shaking his head. “You know…the lengths you two go to…to cover up for each other is unbelievable. You two are gonna end up codependent and useless I swear…” John sits on his bed and grabs the phone book. He calls the Hutchinson police department. “This is John Winchester. I want to know the whereabouts of my son, Dean Winchester. Yes, I’ll hold.” Sammy’s about bitten off all ten of his fingernails when John finds out Dean’s already been transported to Wichita’s juvenile detention center. The police say they tried to reach him multiple times, but they never could. Damn multiple burner phones. 

“Looks like your fuckup of a brother’s managed to get himself transported to Wichita. He’ll just have to rot in jail again. This is his second offense. He’s almost eighteen. One more and he’ll end up in prison. This better be a cautionary tale for you, boy. Don’t you go becoming like your brother. He’s damned incorrigible that one is!” Sammy shakes his head. He so desperately wants to be like his big brother. Dean’s the bravest and most loving person he knows. Dean’s his father, his mother, his brother, his best friend…Dean is HOME. If there’s no Dean, there’s no HOME. “Come on, Sam. Let’s go see what high hell your brother’s in. That boy is gonna be the death of me! I swear that boy is gonna do his time. We’ll just have to wait it out in or around Wichita. I had a job all lined up in Texas, but that’s all been shot to hell. Looks like we’ll have to stay in Kansas for awhile.” Sam goes to the dresser and yanks all of his and Dean’s stuff. He crams it into their duffel bags. John’s gear is already in the truck. Sam hears a loud crash against the wall as his dad throws an empty whiskey bottle at the wall. “Damn it, Dean! He left the Impala in the parking lot didn’t he?” Sammy almost forgot all about the Impala. John calls Uncle Bobby to go pick it up. It’s probably already in the impound lot. 

An hour later, Dean arrives at the Crowley Juvenile Detention Center in Wichita. This place is a world away from Sonny’s Wayward Home for Boys. If Sonny’s was little league then Dean’s just entered the major league. There’s boys here from all over Kansas. This is a much larger facility. He wishes he was back at Sonny’s. His life majorly sucks right now. The van door opens and a correction’s officer unchains him from the van. The officer manhandles him out of the van. He’s not used to the shackles, so he has to shuffle himself across the asphalt towards the entrance. There’s already a row of inmates making lewd comments and insinuations at him and he’s not even in the building, yet.

“Move it, Winchester.” The guard shoves him along a sidewalk and into the building. He has to process into the facility all over again. His original belongings are transferred to this facility. The shackles come off and he’s led to the shower room. All modesty gets thrown out the window. He’s inspected, poked, and prodded. There’s absolutely no use crying. Nobody cares. He looks like Bambi caught in the headlights of an oncoming truck…and, yes, Bambi lost his mother, too.

He’s given a new uniform. It’s a plain white t-shirt with white cotton pants this time. White socks and white rubber sandals complete the whole fucking outfit. Next, he’s taken to a get his bedding and towels. Apparently, there’s two boys to each cell. He wonders if he’ll be paired up with some kind of psychopath. The guard shoves him along until they reach the farthest cell on the right side of the building. The guard opens the cell door. “Winchester, Novak. Novak, Winchester. You two better get along and braid each other’s hair, or else…Capisce?” Dean gulps. The other guy never even looks up from the book he’s reading. He’s got multiple piercings and prison tats. “By the way, Winchester, we’re still looking for your dad. If we can’t find him…well, guess you’d better make yourself at home until your trial.” The cell door closes with a loud clanging noise. Dean closes his eyes and breathes heavily. The Novak dude had the top bunk so Dean slowly goes towards the bottom bunk. Novak dude turns the page of his book entitled “The Brotherhood of the Bratva.” Dean doesn’t know what Bratva means, but he’s got a feeling it can’t be all good. Dean places his bedding and towels on the bunk. He guesses he should make his bed, but come on now —-it’s a freaking sheet, a lumpy pillow, and a threadbare blanket. Dean looks up at the boy in the top bunk guessing it’s time for introductions. “Uh, hi. My name’s Dean.” He says sheepishly. Novak dude turns off his reading light and flips his whole body towards the wall saying absolutely nothing. Dean sighs. Sonny’s was nothing like this. There’s a loud noise coming over a shrill speaker system. “Lights out in ten.” Dean quickly makes his bed and lays down. He quickly finds out the towels are probably thicker then the mattress. He’ll never complain about the skeevy motel room mattresses again. He flips over to face the wall like the Novak kid. His eyes are welling up with tears again. “Suck it up, Winchester.” He whispers to himself. Damn fucking Valentine’s Day. He misses Sammy. He misses Meg, too. 

The next morning, Dean has a rude awakening when the shrill speaker wakes everyone up at the crack of dawn. Novak dude’s already awake, dressed, and out the open cell door, probably on his way to breakfast. “Shit. First day here and I wind up with ‘Mr. Anti-Social.’ Awesome.” Dean figures he’s already dressed so he splashes water on his face to wake up. He’s gotta catch up to scary Bratva dude. He’s gotta learn the ropes or he ain’t gonna survive in here. Stealing food and small stuffed animals ain’t gonna cut it in here. He follows the line of boys all heading in the same direction. They all enter a large cafeteria. Dean notices there ain’t a lot of talking going on. This place must be really strict. He follows the other boys lead and grabs a faded red plastic compartmentalized tray. The Novak kid’s about nine inmates up from him. The cafeteria guy throws a cupful of scrambled eggs and a half burnt piece of toast on his tray. Then another guy throws one piece of bacon and a carton of milk on his tray. Dean sighs. Guess that’s it. He tries to find the Novak kid. Dean spots him sitting all by himself at the last table alongside the farthest wall. Dean finally gets a good look at him. He’s got messy dark hair and multiple piercings. It even looks like he’s got some homemade tattoos on his hands and arms. He doesn’t look up much, content eating today’s slop. Dean inhales deeply. Gotta go make nice with the bunk mate. “Uh, hey. Mind if I sit here? I’m new and I don’t know what the hell I’m doing so…” Novak grunts. “Ok? I will take that as a ‘yes’ then.” Dean sits across from the scary kid with the multiple piercings. Dean’s fidgety. This place is nerve racking. The other guys start staring at him, but they don’t really say anything. The dude’s got the bluest eyes Dean’s ever seen. He looks away. Dean notices there’s guards stationed in each corner ready to inflict pain if anybody dares to speak over a whisper. “Uh, so you must really like the food here, huh? I mean, I’m all for breakfast being the most important meal of the day, but this…” The Novak kid looks up at him with those baby blues. “You talk too much. You ramble.” Dean gulps. Most people find his chatter amusing, even adorable. What the hell is wrong with this guy? “Uh, sorry. I guess I ramble incoherently when I’m nervous. Sorry.” The bluest eyes in Kansas look up at him again, deadpan look in those eyes. “You apologize too much.” Dean was about to say ‘sorry’ but he stopped himself on time. He decides to start eating and keep his trap shut. He has to coexist with this dude. Novak dude finishes his breakfast first. He’s about to go turn in his tray. Dean can’t stand it anymore. He gently touches the guys wrist. Novak gives him the death glare. “Uh, sorry. I just want to know what happens next around here. What do I, we do next?” For one brief moment Dean thought he saw a little pity in those blue eyes, but it quickly turned cold. The Novak kid got up and left. He only said “Follow my lead.” Dean didn’t have to be told twice. He quickly gets up with his tray and follows the Novak kid. 

After the trays get put away, he follows the kid into a series classrooms. They enter the third classroom. There’s about five rows of five desks with attached chairs. Each desk had several textbooks in it. The Novak kid sits on the last seat in the last row. Dean does the same and sits on the next desk. Apparently, the boys take their high school classes in the morning. The class work is the usual standard stuff. Dean’s been to so many different high schools it’s become rote for him. 

After morning classes, all the boys return to the cafeteria for lunch. Dean follows the Novak kid’s lead again. Lunch is anything but appetizing. It’s a rubbery bologna sandwich with mustard, a small apple, and another carton of milk. No one’s gonna gain any weight with this kind of food. Dean imagines it might bother some of the boys, but he’s used to it. The Winchester boys were never known to have much to eat in the first place. The Novak kid seems to be enjoying his lunch. Odd to say the least. “So, now what? What’s after the morning classroom stuff?” Blue eyes look into green. The scary dude is definitely not much of a talker. Dean sighs and eats his rubbery sandwich. The Novak kid gets up to put his tray away and Dean once again has no choice but to follows his lead. 

They enter a large enclosed garage. Is this their version of shop class? Awesome. This Dean can handle. This is his wheelhouse. Each boy takes their seat facing large shop tables with different small engine parts. Small engine repair maybe? Whatever it is, Dean can handle this. His table has a carburetor in need of repair. He quickly starts to work on it. The Novak kid seems to be staring at him. Is that awe in his blue eyes? “I take it you know what you’re doing?” Dean looks up at the Novak kid. That’s the first complete sentence the kid’s said all day. “Yeah. It’s a busted lawn mower carburetor. See? It’s got corrosion on it. So, you gotta disassemble it from the bottom. First the bowl, the float, the needle, the seat…Then match the gaskets and ‘O’ rings and clean everything with carburetor cleaner. There’s more steps. Want me to show you how?” Novak kid nods his head. Interesting. There might be hope for this guy Dean thinks. He spends the rest of the afternoon showing the pierced one how to clean and fix a carburetor. Small engine repair - Check that off the list. 

Dinner time rolls around and Dean follows Novak kid back to the cafeteria for another round of unappetizing food. Tonight it’s an indescribable piece of meat about the size of a deck of cards. They call it Salisbury steak. Accompanying it is a dollop of instant mashed potatoes and another carton of milk. One cannot say awesome enough. Novak kid digs in eagerly. Dean’s gotta give him an ‘A’ for effort. Dean can’t eat the steak thingie so he settles for the mashed potatoes. They have absolutely no flavor, but at least they’re edible. Dean’s gonna lose a lot of weight around here. “Do you want your steak?” Blue eyes asks. “Uh, no. Knock yourself out.” Dean responds. Blue eyes stabs the steak with his plastic spork and begins to chow down. Dean knows better than to ask what’s next so he just waits for Novak to finish with his food. 

After they put their trays up. Dean follows Novak outside. There’s a fenced in courtyard. Dean can’t help but notice all the barbed wire along the fence line. “You can stay out here or go inside to the gym. I prefer to be outside.” Dean nods his head. “Uh, ok. Out here is fine.” Dean notices guys playing basketball. Other guys are just hanging around. Dean thought they’d all be smoking, but then he remembered it’s juvie not prison. He turns around to see the gym inside the building. His eyes grow big like saucers. There’s a guy that’s about to be shanked by a much larger dude. The guy’s lifting weights and he doesn’t even realize what’s happening. Meanwhile, outside, there’s a fist fight going down at the basketball court. Suddenly, there’s a lot of pushing and shoving, a lot of commotion. Dean accidentally bumps into a particularly mean looking individual. “Watch where you’re going, fucktard! Hey, you’re the new kid. The one with no old man to come get ya, aren’t you? Hey, guys. We got new meat here. Let’s give him a welcoming he won’t forget.” The mean dude grabs Dean’s shirt collar ripping it in the process. Dean’s hands go up automatically trying to get away, but the guy’s grip is fierce. Dean yelps. He gets an uppercut blow to the left side of his chin and then a swift punch in his right eye. He falls to the ground with a thud. “You better leave him the hell alone.” Novak kid snarls. “Or what?” Mean guy says. “Or this!” Novak kid hits the other guy so fast that he didn’t see it coming. Novak kid’s wailing on him like white on rice. Blow after blow after blow… The mean guys face is beginning to look like hamburger meat. The alarm starts sounding. The shrill speaker comes on. “Everyone report back to their cels. Everyone report back to their cell. Lockdown in commencement.” Novak grabs Dean by the bicep. “We gotta go now!” Dean gets up as fast as he can. They both run back towards their cell as quickly as they can. They barely make it as the cell doors begin locking automatically in place. 

Dean collapses on his bunk. Novak kid jumps up into his bunk panting. “That was close. Are you ok?” Dean asks. Of course, Novak doesn’t answer. Novak kid is flexing the knuckles on both his hands. They’re gonna look so badass tomorrow. Dean gets up to make sure Novak’s ok. “Damn! Look at your knuckles, dude!” Novak looks at him deadpan. “Damn, dude, look at your face!” Dean goes over to the small mirror hanging above the sink. “Damn. Look at my face!” Green eyes look at blue. They both start laughing. “You look like a reject from Fight Club, Winchester.” Dean grins. “Yeah, well, you look like a reject from your Bratva!” Novak kid quits laughing. Dean notices. “Oh. Sorry, dude. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings or anything. I’m so stupid sometimes. I don’t even know what the hell Bratva is.” Novak kid grins. “It’s the Russian Mafia. I’m kinda a descendant of it. My brothers are in it. I guess you could say I’m a reject of it.” Dean looks at Novak kid with awe. “Wow, dude. I’ve never met anyone from any type of mafia before. That must be so cool.” Novak kid shakes his head. “No. Not really. It’s just a lot of heartache all around. Not cool.” There’s a slight pause while the Novak kid ponders whether he should continue his disclosure. “Guess if we’re gonna look like rejects then I should introduce myself. My name’s Castiel, Castiel Novak.” Dean nods his head. “Nice to meet you, Castiel Novak.” The shrill speaker comes on. “Lights out in ten.” “Guess bedtime’s a little early tonight, huh?” Dean says as he plops down on his bunk. “Man, my eye’s killing me. Wish my brother could see the doozy of a shiner Imma have tomorrow.” Castiel stops looking at his knuckles and pulls out a vial from under his mattress. “You wanna an oxy or Percocet?” Dean sits up. “What? I, I mean you got some?” Castiel bends upside down handing Dean the small vial. “Take your pick. If you tell anyone where you got it I’ll have to kill you.” Dean nods his head. “I have no doubt about it.”  Dean takes an oxy. He’s used to those. He’s been buying them off the street ever since he became his dad’s favorite punching bag at twelve. He swallows the pill and gets up to drink water out of the faucet. Then he goes back to lie down. 

There’s still a lot of noise and commotion going on down in the corridors. Apparently not all the inmates went back to their cells voluntarily. There’s an awkward moment of silence and both boys are too riled up to sleep. “So, what’ya in for Winchester?” Dean’s taken by surprise. Novak’s never asked him a question so far. “Don’t laugh if I tell you,” Novak agrees not to laugh. “Ok. Well, the Hutchison police department didn’t take too kindly to me shoplifting a Valentine’s Day card and a stuffed animal, so it’s off to the slammer for me.” Novak kid laughs. “Hey! You promised not to laugh.” Novak slams his hand on the wall and keeps laughing. “Now I’m sorry, but you don’t appear to be the touchy-feely yoga crap type. Was that your first offense?” Dean cringes. “Uh, no.” Novak keeps prodding. “So? What was your first one?” Dean will never hear the end of this one. “I, I stole a jar of peanut butter, a couple of overripe bananas, and a loaf of bread. In my defense, my baby brother is a bottomless pit and he’d eat us out of house and home if we had one, so…” Dean expected laughing, but there wasn’t any. “You don’t have a home?” Dean flinches. He usually doesn’t disclose this much, EVER.. “Uh, no. I mean we had one at one time, but uh, no we don’t have a home.” Novak turns upside down from his bunk again and looks at him. “Well then, where do you and your brother live if you don’t have a home?” Dean looks up into blue’s eyes. “We mostly live in cheap motels or sometimes in our car if the money runs out. It’s ok, Cas. You don’t have to feel sorry for me or anything. S’okay.” Novak jumps down. Dean sits up to give Cass more room to sit. “You called me Cas.” Dean frowns. “Sorry. I have this bad tendency to give everyone I like a nickname.” Cas smiles. Dean’s never seen the dude smile since he’s been here. “You’re apologizing again. Don’t. I like it. Nobody’s ever given me a nickname before.” Dean feels better about the nickname now. “So, basically you stole ‘cause you and your brother were hungry and then you stole ‘cause you were a lovestruck dumbass?” Dean blushes. “Yes to the first and no to the second. I have, had a girlfriend, but she’d probably kill me if I gave her something like that. She’s a little edgy if you know what I mean.” Cas raises an eyebrow. “So, you stole for your little brother or he stole and you took the rap?” Dammit. How did blue eyes figure it out? How’d Dean become ‘Mr. Spill-Your-Guts’ all of a sudden? “Something like that. Please don’t rat me out. I’d rather rot in here than have my little brother go through this.” Cas flexes his knuckles again. “Don’t worry. I’m not gonna rat you out. It’s actually quite commendable of you.” Dean smiles. “Hey, did you take a painkiller yourself? Those knuckles look a little raw there.” Cas smiles again. “Yeah. I took one. So, you got a girlfriend? What’s her name?” Dean blushes again. “Her name’s Meg and she’s a badass babe, but she probably ain’t my girlfriend for much longer. Knowing my old man, he’s probably already moved us all out of Hutchison. They’re probably already in Wichita so he can rip me a new one any day now.” Dean looks like a sad puppy whose been kicked around too much. “Your old man’s an asshole ain’t he?” Cas asks. “More like an obsessive bastard to tell you the truth. See, our mom died in a house fire and he’s been obsessed with who it was that killed her. Me and my baby brother kinda got lost in the shuffle. He gets drunk a lot. He probably doesn’t even remember what he does when he’s drunk.” Cas nods his head as he plays with the piercing on his eyebrow. “So? How about you? You gonna tell me why you’re stuck in a place like this?” Dean hopes he’ll get an answer from the mysterious guy. “It’s a long story. My folks are rich asshats. My brothers are brutal…Bratva and all. I don’t conform very well as you can see.” Cas points to his body modifications. “And, just like you, my dad uses me as his own personal punching bag ‘cause of it except the last couple of times I punched back…soooo, TADA!” Dean laughs. A guard pounds on the wall outside the cell. “Shut the fuck up, you two! Go to bed.” Dean and Cas snicker. “Looks like we have more in common than I thought.” Dean whispers in Castiel’s ear. “Yeah. I think we do. So, Winchester, don’t stress out too much. I’ll watch your six.” Dean smiles. “And, I’ll watch yours.” Cas shrugs. “I’m peachy. These bastards don’t bother me much when they know my family is the Bratva. It comes in handy, comrade.” Dean shakes his head and grins. “Alrighty, comrade.” They both lay back in their bunks. The day turned out scary, but the night revealed a new sort of friendship. S’all good. Both boys slept a hell of a lot better that night. 

Chapter Text

…No one will ever see

this side reflected

And if there’s something wrong

Who would have guessed it?

And I have left alone

Everything that I own

To make you feel like

It’s not too late

It’s never too late

3 Days Grace

Dean’s whole first week at the juvenile detention center isn’t all bad now that he has Cas on his side. The meals still suck ass. He doesn’t know how Cas can eat them, but oh well. Things quiet down. The kid that got shanked survived and the perpetrators were dealt with. Everyone’s wondering what happened to Dean’s face, but no one dares make a comment with Cas by his side. Even the guy Cas beat to a pulp kept his mouth shut. He certainly didn’t want to get ganked by the Bratva. Yeah, things were going pretty good, but all good things come to an end. Don’t they?

“Winchester, looks like we finally found your old man. He’s coming by tomorrow. Maybe, he’ll spring your ass out of juvie?” Dean very much doubts that. “And, by the way, Novak, your dad is coming by tomorrow as well. Better brush up on my Russian. Do Svidanya to you, Novak!” Both boys cringe. Neither one looks forward to their fathers visiting. “Maybe your dad will understand why you did what you did? Maybe he’ll spring you outa here.” Cas says. “I sincerely doubt it. He wanted me to rot in jail the first time. He ain’t gonna change overnight. I might as well make myself at home. Plus, I don’t want Sammy to get into trouble over a stupid card and a stuffed bear. I can cope.” Cas frowns. “Maybe your dad will forgive and forget. Right?” Cas scoffs. “Nah. It ain’t that way. There’s a lot of bad blood between us. I’ll never be the kind of son he wants. I’m too different. It’s about me…who I am. I can’t change that.” Dean wonders what Cas means about that. 

The next day comes and Dean’s stomach is in knots. Dean’s lawyer will be there, but the thought of facing John Winchester is scaring the crap out of him. Dean’s almost always on John’s shit list and now with this? There’s no way Dean’s ever coming out of the proverbial doghouse now. Cas looks just as bad. He looks like a man going to his own execution. Both boys are escorted to their separate visiting rooms along with their lawyers. “See ya on the flip side, Cas.” Dean tries to smile halfheartedly. “See ya on the filp side, Dean.” Cas smiles a tiny bit. 

Dean enters the tiny room. There’s John Winchester puffed up like a man possessed. “Hi, dad.” Dean says. His voice is hardly audible. “What you say, boy?” If looks could kill, Dean Winchester would be a dead man. “I…I said hi, dad.” John frowns. “You stuttering again, boy?” Dean looks down at the floor. “No, Sir.” The lawyer senses the tension filling the tiny room. “Dean, Mr. Winchester, please sit down.” Dean and John sit down on opposite sides of the table. “Dean, I’d like you to explain what happened that day to your father. And, Mr. Winchester, I’d like you to keep an open mind and listen to what your son has to say about the incident.” Dean nods his head. He’ll try his best to explain what happened without dragging Sammy into it. “Well, I was shopping for groceries whe…” John interrupts. “I’ll tell you what happened. My eldest fuckup of a son was doing his duty to shop for food and look after his little brother, but somewhere along the line he started thinking with his dick. He probably couldn’t get that slut of a girlfriend off his mind, so he had to go do his infamous ‘five-finger-discount’ and shoplift a fucking Valentine’s Day card and a stupid stuffed bear for his little bitch. Isn’t that right, Dean?” Dean’s so embarrassed. He wishes the grey linoleum would just swallow him up whole. “Then, to make matters worse, he convinces his saint of a brother to fess up for it to save his bacon… get off Scott free. It’s deplorable. You’ve really reached an all time low, Dean. It’s embarrassing.” Dean wants to say something, but his mouth won’t work. All he can think of is Sam…Sammy-Samson and his adorable dimples and long floppy hair…that stupid puppy-dog look of love in his eyes. He hopes Jessica was worth it. “See? He has absolutely nothing to say for his worthless ass.” John lunges across the table and backhands Dean on the mouth. Dean falls back on his chair, blood slowly dripping from his split lower lip. Dean fills his eyes welling up with tears. “That’s enough, Mr. Winchester. Guards! Guards!” The lawyer is frantic trying to get help. “What’s a matter, Dean? Look at your face. You’re all beat up. Looks like you’re already making friends on the inside. Next stop is prison, boy. And, you can bet nether me nor Sammy will ever visit you in there.” One of the guards comes in and begins to haul John away while the other guard picks Dean off the floor and begins to take Dean back to his cell. Dean takes one last look at his lawyer. “What…what happens next?” Dean’s croaks. He’s definitely on the verge of sobbing. “Your case goes to trial.” He closes his briefcase and leaves. 

When Dean returns to his cell, Cas is already there. He’s crying. Dean can hear him even if he’s curled up on his bunk facing the wall. “Guess your little family get together was as bad as mine, huh?” Cas turns around and looks at Dean. “Guess your lip ran into your dad’s fist, huh?” Dean would laugh right now if his lip didn’t hurt so much. “Yeah. Kinda. Things panned out just like I thought they would. He never lets me have a word in edgewise. Guess he only wants to believe what he wants to believe whether it’s the truth or not. Doesn’t matter. I don’t matter.” Dean slumps down on the floor. Cas fidgets with one of the studs on his left ear. “If it’s any consolation, my family’s pretty much disowned me. I’m too different and not enough. I don’t matter either.” Cas gets off his bunk and slides down next to Dean. They sit together silently. Then Dean gets the courage to ask Cas a question. “May I ask why you’re so different? You don’t look too different to me. Yeah, you’ve got body mods, but…” Cas looks forlorn, like he’s gonna reveal the darkest secret on the face of the planet. “I’m, I’m gay.” He whispers. Dean’s eye open wide. “Oh.” That’s all he can muster. “Does, does that change things between us?” Cas asks. Dean shakes his head. “Uh, no, Cas. No, it definitely does not.” Cas leans over and places the gentlest kiss on Dean’s parted lips. Surprisingly, Dean kisses back. It’s a timid kiss, but it’s a kiss nonetheless. Green eyes meet blue. No further words are needed. 

Days turn into weeks and weeks turn into months. Neither boy is looking nor hoping to be out anytime soon. They’re the victims of their own series of events, seemingly forgotten by their own families. Dean and Cas have a good routine going. They watch each other’s backs. Everyone knows they got a thing going. There’s whispering behind their backs. Dean thinks Cas is a badass and Cas tells Dean that he’s beautiful inside and out. Cas inks Dean’s name on the four knuckles of his left hand. Dean asks Cas to do the same to him. He wants a C, an A, a S, and a tiny bee on the four knuckles of his right hand. Cas loves bees. Dean promises not to tell anyone. Dean also wants Sammy’s initials inked onto his right wrist and his mom’s initials inked over his heart.

At night, they share each other’s bunk. Cas is a great kisser and Dean is an ardent student. Cas loves to explore Dean’s body and Dean doesn’t mind one bit. He figures Meg would definitely understand. They might as well make the best out of the situation they’re in. They haven’t gone all the way, yet. Dean can’t help but wonder what that would be like. He wouldn’t mind exploring that option. He just wishes it wouldn’t be in here. Cas deserves better. Dean imagines making love to Cas in some beautiful hotel room where the bed and the bedding are posh and comfy. 

As the weeks go by, Cas becomes more and more despondent. Dean thinks that maybe his family was really close at one point, not like Dean’s. Yeah, Dean was really close to his mom, but her memory sometimes eludes him like a cloud that never really formed. It’s an ethereal memory, fleeting at best. And, John…well, John was John. His father was like a prickly cactus. No matter how close Dean wanted to get, John’s thorns would always keep him at bay. John Winchester was like the sun. Dean wanted it’s warmth so badly, but whenever he got too close, the sun would consume him in a fireball of rage. Sammy was his only constant. He raised that boy. That was his son not John’s. John couldn’t tell you the day he said his first word (It was Dee, by the way), he couldn’t tell you the day he took his first step. He didn’t have all of Sammy’s report cards tied with a satin ribbon, all the Mother’s and Father’s Day cards addressed to Dean… No, John Winchester didn’t have any of those things. Most importantly, he didn’t own Sammy’s heart. That belonged to Dean as Dean’s heart belonged to Sammy. John Winchester would, could never understand that. He hadn’t earned it. 

Five months go by. Dean’s trial is coming up soon. The Novak family appear to have the means to let their son truly rot in here. Money can buy you all sorts of things apparently. It’s so not fair. Cas deserves so much more. It’s too bad his family is holier than thou. Dean can’t seem to find Cas today. They’ve been inseparable since the afternoon the fights broke out during rec time. Everyone knows it. No one dares to comment. Dean’s been wondering if it’s possible to love both sexes at the same time. He loves Meg. He misses Meg’s warm body under his, her perky nipples, the curve of her hips… He misses her passionate kisses and the little sounds she makes when they’re fucking. But, Cas stirs something in him as well. His hair is just as soft as Meg’s. His lips are soft and plush like Meg’s…They’ve done some serious kissing and petting. He wonders what would develop if they weren’t stuck in this fishbowl. He wonders if there’s more to this relationship. He’d like to explore that avenue with this special guy if they ever get out of here.

He looks everywhere for Cas. He decides to go through each and every shower stall. It’s silly, but it’s worth a try. There’s a figure slumped in the last shower stall on the right. But, the t-shirt’s all wrong. It’s red on the sides. Is that blood? “Cas! Cas! What’s wrong? Oh, my God, Cas! What the hell did you do, buddy?” Dean looks Cas over just like he looks Sammy over after every hunt their father takes them on. Castiel has slit his wrists with a razor blade. There’s blood pouring from his veins. “No, no, no, noooo! You have so much to live for, dude. There’s so much to live for in this life not the next. Not yet.” Dean rips his t-shirt off in strips and ties the pieces around Castiel’s wrists. “Don’t you dare leave me, Cas. I know you’re listening. I know you can probably hear me. Don’t leave me like this!” He gently lays Castiel’s body down and runs for help. Help arrives just in time as Castiel’s skin turns an ashen color. Cas is taken away in an ambulance to the nearest hospital. Later on, Dean finds out it was Castiel‘s eighteenth birthday. No one bothered with it at all, especially his family. “Fuck his family.” Dean says to himself. They have no idea just how special Cas really is. 

It’s Dean’s turn to become despondent. He hasn’t seen nor heard from Cas in weeks. He isn’t family, so no one can tell him anything about him. Dean’s trial is coming up and his lawyer is frantically trying to clear Dean’s name. “Dean, if you tell the judge the truth you can avoid all this mess.” Dean just shakes his head. “Nope. Nah, not gonna rat my brother out. Just tell them I did the crime, I’ll do the time. It ain’t like my dad’s just gonna welcome me home or anything like that. I ain’t gonna turn eighteen for five more months. What are they gonna do then, huh? Put me in foster care for five fucking months? Nah, just rather do the time here. Then, when I turn eighteen I can be on my own. Maybe I can get custody of Sammy once I get a good job. I can go find Cas. To hell with my dad. He doesn’t give a crap about me or Sammy. Besides, how much time does a guy gotta do for a petty crime? It’s not like I robbed a bank for fuck’s sake.” The lawyer gives up. Dean Winchester is a hard nut to crack. He’ll take his chances. 

Chapter Text

The world we know

won’t come back

The time we’ve lost

Can’t get back

The life we had 

Won’t be ours again 

…This world will never be

what I expected 

And if I don’t belong…

3 Days Grace

The trial is scheduled for early August. It seems that the courts have been backed up by months. Dean’s already served five months in. Maybe the judge will consider time served. The trial is held in the juvenile justice system. Dean’s lawyer says that a good sign. The juvenile court system isn’t like the adult version. Dean has to wear a borrowed suit that’s about two sizes too big. Dean’s lost a lot of weight. That doesn’t help. It’d be perfect for Sammy Dean thinks. The shackles make their reappearance and Dean is led to the transport van that will take him to the courthouse. He’s then placed in a holding cell. It’s a waiting game for now. He thinks about Cas, hopes the dude’s ok.

Dean wonders just exactly how his life all went to hell in a hand basket. He’s glad his mom isn’t here to witness this. She’d probably be so ashamed of him. He’s not looking forward to seeing his father. He is however excited to see Sammy. He hasn’t seen him in five months. His brother is probably gargantuan by now. He wonders how Meg is doing. She’s probably got a new guy now. Most of all, he wonders how Cass is doing. Did he die? Did he get better? Was he able to get away from his horrid family? Maybe he found a new guy. Dean doesn’t know why this made him sad, but it  does.

“Winchester, you’re up.” The bailiff comes to get him. He gets escorted into the courtroom. He’s surprised that there aren’t a lot of people here. It’s nothing like on TV. The judge is there. His lawyer and the lawyers for the grocery store are there. His pissy father is  there. Dean doesn’t even want to look at him. His Sammy is there. That makes a world of difference. As he is just about done glancing around the courtroom, he spots two more people sitting way in the back. Two people dressed in black with dark hair. A guy and a girl. He wants to take better look, but his lawyer turns him around towards the judge. “Eyes up front, Winchester. You can’t afford to blow this.” His frantic lawyer starts saying. The judge listens as both sides plead their case. Dean can almost feel his father’s eyes boring holes into his shoulders. He can see Sammy biting his nails down to the cuticles. “Mr. Winchester.” Dean was caught off guard. “Hm? I mean yes, your honor?”

“I see you spent several months at Sonny’s Home for Wayward Boys. Is this true, young man? That you were arrested for stealing a jar of peanut butter, some bananas, and a loaf of bread? And that your own father let you do the time rather than to pay for said food items?” Dean has to think fast. That was a lot of questions. “Uh, yes, your honor. That’s all true.” The judge looks at Dean with a note of pity in his eyes. “Why, son? Why did you resort to stealing?” Dean clears his throat. “Uh, my brother was hungry. We were new in town and I was unemployed at the time. I didn’t have the time to come up with the food money so I stole.” Dean hopes that answer was sufficient. “I understand that your mother is deceased. And, exactly where was your father at the time?” Dean gulps. John’s doing the death glare at him. “Uh, he was working, sir.” The judge tips his glasses at the edge of his nose. “In town, out of town, or out of state?”  Why so many questions? Dean’s on the verge of a panic attack. “Out of state, sir.” The judge shakes his head. “For how long, son?” Dean gulps again. “Uh, three weeks, sir.” The judge leans back on his chair. “You mean to tell me that your father, John Winchester, the court would like to acknowledge the fact that John Winchester is in the court at this time, left you and your younger brother alone fending for yourselves for three weeks?” Dean looks at his lawyer. “Answer the question, Dean.” Dean looks at the judge. “Yes, Sir” The judge looks annoyed. “Where were you and your brother living at the time of the incident?” Dean remembers the skeevy motel like it was yesterday. “We, we were living at the Starlite Motel, sir.” The judge’s eyebrows go up. “Yes. I’m all too familiar with the Starlite Motel. It’s has it’s own sordid reputation. A place that charges by the hour is no place to raise children.” Dean looks embarrassed. “How old were you and your brother at the time?” Dean looks over at Sammy. “Uh, I was sixteen and my brother was twelve.” The judge gives John Winchester the death glare. “Are we to assume that you, Dean Winchester are the primary care taker of your younger brother, then?” Dean nods his head. “Yes, sir.”

The judge begins shifting through his papers. “Now, what were you doing at the time of the second incident?” Dean looks up at the judge. “I was buying groceries, your honor.” The judge glances out to the courtroom. “Do you or did you have a girlfriend at the time?” Dean takes a quick glance behind him. Yes! It’s Meg sitting back there and she’s sitting with Cass??? “Yes, Sir. I did, I do have a girlfriend.” Dean’s so confused. “Did you think about purchasing a Valentine’s Day gift for your girl on that day?” Dean flinches. “No. I mean, yes. I , I got her a card and a stuffed animal only I didn’t pay for it, sir.” Sammy’s  squirming and dying in his seat. The judge is looking directly at Meg. “Young lady, would you please address the court?” Meg looks around. There are no other young ladies or ladies for that matter in the entire courtroom. She stands up and comes forward. Dean notices her cute little black dress. “State your name for the record.” The bailiff asks. “Hi there. My name is Meg Masters and I’m Dean Winchester’s girlfriend.” Dean looks relieved and John looks pissed. “Young lady, do you like Valentine’s Day cards with pink donuts on them or pink stuffed bears?” Meg looks like she wants to vomit. “No, your honor. I was expecting a gift from my guy, but of a more personal nature. My man’s truly gifted when it comes to gift giving, if you know what I mean.” Dean blushes and he’s pretty sure that the judge is blushing, too. An audible  “Slut.” is heard in the courtroom. Meg gives John the death glare. The judge gives John Winchester the death glare. “Mr. Winchester, you will refrain from any additional comments towards the young lady.” John slinks down in his chair. “Yes, your honor.”

The judge resumes the questioning. “So, we are to establish that said pink items were NOT purchased for your girl. Correct?” The question is Dean’s and Dean’s alone. He’d gulp except for he’s kinda out of saliva at the moment. There’s an awkward moment of silence throughput the courtroom. Sammy can’t stand it anymore. “IT WAS ME! I DID IT! OK?” Sammy’s practically jumping up and down while John’s trying to subdue him. “Shut the fuck up, Sammy! Let your brother take care of you.” John’s practically begging Sam to be quiet. Dean places his head in his hands. He groans. The proverbial cat’s outa the bag. Meg and Cass look at each other smiling. “Young man, please state your name for the record.” Sam leaps forward avoiding his dad’s grasp. “My name is Sam Winchester and I’m a shoplifter, a klepto something.” Dean groans. “I had my first crush and I knew my brother couldn’t afford it. We couldn’t afford it. So, I took it. I took the card and the plushie bear. I got caught at the cash register and my brother took the rap for me. There I said it.” Sam exhales. He didn’t realize he’d been holding his breath for so long. John starts shaking his head wondering how his boys grew up to be so stupid. John’s not the judge’s favorite ‘father-of-the-year’ right about now. “Sam, was your father out of town or out of state again?” Sammy looks at Dean. Dean’s eyes look pleading, but Sam’s bent on the truth, so help him, God. “He was out of town for two weeks.” The judge frowns again. “I take it that your brother, Dean was your care taker all this time, Sam?” Sam gulps. “Yes, your honor. My brother, Dean has taken care of me my entire life. He’s the best. He’s the only one I got left.” Sam realizes he just threw his own father under the bus. Dean thinks he’s having a stroke. Drops of perspiration drip from his hairline. He starts wringing his hands. The judge straightens out his papers. “Believe me or don’t, but I heard a lot of good things about you, Mr. Winchester.” John straightens up in his chair. “NOT YOU, Mr. Winchester. I meant him!” The judge points to Dean while John slinks further down in his chair. “Mr. Novak states that you were very instrumental in saving his life during his stay at the juvenile detention center. I’m sure he would like to thank you personally. Wouldn’t you, Mr. Novak?” Dean turns around to see Cas come forward. Cas looks so different. His piercings are removed and his tattoos aren’t showing at the moment. Is he wearing a three piece suit and a black trench coat? Dean thinks he might want to go Goth after this, maybe gets some piercings and definitely more tats… “Yes, your honor. Dean Winchester saved me. He and I haven’t been blessed with an easy childhood or an easy life for that matter. He showed me that life is worth living no matter how dire the circumstances or what cards we’re dealt with.  We have that much in common. He’s shown me how to prevail against all odds. If it wasn’t for him, I might not be standing here today.” The judge nods his head. “Thank you, Mr. Novak. Well, we have much work to be done here.” The judge looks at Dean’s lawyer. “Is there a close living relative for these two young men?” The lawyer looks through his paperwork. “There’s a Robert Singer in Sioux Falls, South Dakota.” The judge writes the name down. “Contact him immediately. Inquire if he can accommodate these two young men until Dean reaches his eighteenth birthday in January. Then see if we can proceed with allowing Dean to become Sam’s legal guardian. I believe the elder Mr. Winchester has given up his right to parent children in which he has shown no regards to.” John gets up, is about to say something, but the judge stops him. “Mr. Winchester, ‘Tis  better to keep your mouth closed and let people think you’re a fool than to open your mouth and remove all doubt.’ Gotta love Abe Lincoln for that one!” John is furious. He gets up and stomps out of the courtroom.

The grocery store lawyers look annoyed. One of them gets up, ready to argue some moot point. “What about our interests, your honor?” The judge looks vexed. “Are you about to argue with me over a cheap card with a pink donut on the front and a $5 pink bear? This is ridiculous! This type of theft does not a hardened criminal make. You could have saved us all the trouble by not arresting the young man in the first place. You could have let him off with a warning, kicked him out of the store, ban them from the store forever, anything but this debacle!” The lawyer backs down with his tail tucked beneath his legs. The judge looks at Dean. “Five months for a donut card and a plushie is enough. Don’t you think?” Dean smiles from ear to ear. “Yes, sir. I agree. I’ve…I mean we’ve learned our lesson. Right, Sammy?” Sammy runs over to Dean and hugs him. “Yes. Yes, we have. I’m never celebrating Valentine’s Day ever again!” Declares Sam. Dean and the judge raise an eyebrow. “Juvenile Court is dismissed. The defendant known as Dean Winchester is hereby freed with time served. I think all you young folk have some catching up to do. While the Winchester brothers await for their uncle to come retrieve them, Mr. Novak has gracelessly volunteered to house you two for the night. Dean Winchester will not be remanded to the juvenile detention center for tonight. I never want to see the likes of any of you in this courtroom again. Capisce?” “Capisce.” They all say in unison.

Dean and Sam walk out behind Cas and Meg. “Never gonna let you take the fall for me again, Dean.” Sam says. “Never gonna cut your hair either, Sammy-Samson, huh?” Dean ruffles Sam’s hair. “That suit’s too big on you. Can I have it?” Dean looks incredulously at him. “Kiddo, you can have this and anything else you can fit your Sasquatch body into!” Sammy grins from ear to ear. They keep walking until they finally catch up to Meg and Cas. It’s awkward. Dean doesn’t know who to hug first. Meg notices his discomfort.  “Clarence, looks like our boy here needs a hug.” Cas raises an eyebrow. “Why, yes, Meg. I believe he is greatly deserving of a big hug.” Dean gets sandwiched into a giant group hug. “How’d you two …???” Cas smiles at Meg and Sam. “It’s a long sordid story. It all started with a love sick Samsquatch, a pissed off girlfriend on Valentine’s Day, and a depressed Goth guy who’s eighteenth birthday was actually a blessing in disguise. It all gets better when they get their groove back.” Cas responds. “Oh, yeah? How’d they manage to do that?” Dean’s practically beaming. “They were all looking for a home and they didn’t realize home wasn’t a place. It was a person.” Sam exclaims. A single tear gently falls from Dean’s eye. He loves them all. He doesn’t know what life will bring him next, but it doesn’t really matter because in this moment in time, Dean is surrounded by the people he loves. Because at this moment in time, Dean Winchester is HOME. 

The End