Magenta Feelings: Part 1

[ellerkay]

Masterpost

***

It wasn’t until the second day that the trouble started.

Being around the other Winchesters (whom Dean had dubbed “the fancy boys”) was weird from the first instant; how could it not be? It was clearly surreal for them, too. But everyone managed to be pretty polite until the other Winchesters showed up for breakfast.

“How do you like your eggs, uh, Sam?” Sam asked. He was in charge of eggs while Dean handled toast and kept an eye on the bacon, which only he was eating. The other Dean had agreed with the Sams that it was too fattening. Dean had looked at his double as though he’d been betrayed.

“Egg whites, scrambled, please,” the other Sam said. “And I’d prefer it if you would call me Samuel.”

Sam’s eyes widened slightly, but he only nodded. Apparently, though, this was too much for Dean. He looked up from the bacon pan and whirled around.

“What?” he said incredulously. “Fuck, do you like to be called Deanna?” He stared accusingly at his doppelganger.

“Actually, I usually go by Dee,” said the other Dean – Dee – cheerfully.

“Ew! What?” Dean said.

“It was his nickname at our preparatory school,” Samuel put in.

Dean blinked a couple times and turned back to the stove, muttering under his breath as he started transferring the cooked bacon to a plate. Sam caught something about “these preppie fucks.”

“Samuel sounds kind of weird to us because we knew our grandfather, who went by Samuel,” Sam said, attempting to smooth things over as he dished out Samuel’s eggs. He joined the other Winchesters at the table.

“Our grandfather Samuel died years before we were born,” Samuel said.

“Oh, so did ours,” Dean said, setting down plates of toast and bacon a little too hard before sitting next to Sam. “Then a demon brought him back to life; then he betrayed us, got infected by a mind-control worm, and Sammy had to kill him.”

Dee was staring, mouth slightly agape. “Whoa. Really?”

“Yup.” Dean picked up a piece of bacon and took a bite. Dee watched the motion of his hands.

“I don’t think we should discuss such things at breakfast,” Samuel said primly. “It seems like a bad start to the day and might interfere with our digestion.”

Sam and Dean blinked at him.

“Uh, sorry, I guess,” Dean said finally.

Samuel smiled and waved dismissively. “It’s no matter.”

Dee’s eyes were glued to the plate of bacon. “You know, that actually smells really good.”

“Dee,” Samuel hissed. “Your diet.”

Dee was already reaching out. “One piece won’t hurt,” he said.



“Atta boy,” Dean said approvingly, finally feeling a modicum of kinship with Dee. “About time.”

Dee smiled hugely at him. He bit into the bacon and his face melted into an expression of ecstasy.

“Oh my god,” he moaned. “This is amazing.”

“Yeah it is,” Dean said, grinning.

Sam and Samuel sniffed disapprovingly at the same time, looked up, and locked eyes. Samuel smiled again. Sam attempted to smile back and quickly busied himself with his breakfast.

***

Scrolling through the news that morning, Sam found clear signs of a haunting just a few hours’ drive from the bunker. With a little research he was pretty sure he knew whose ghost was to blame. He found himself smiling slightly in something like relief. A simple salt-and-burn sounded almost like a vacation compared to what they’d been dealing with lately.

He told Dean, who nodded at him from across the library table. “I’ll get packed,” he said, rising.

Samuel and Dee, who had been sitting in the armchairs behind Dean, glanced at each other and stood up as well.

“We’ll get packed, too,” Dee said. Dean turned to them, frowning.

“What?” he demanded.

“He means, we’ll get ready,” Samuel amended. “We don’t have anything but the clothes on our backs, of course.” He gave a strained smile.

“No, I meant ‘what’ like ‘what makes you think you’re coming with us?’” Dean said.

The fancy boys looked crestfallen.

“Look, it’s an easy case,” Dean said. “Two-man job.”

Samuel raised a finger in the air. “’You never know when a simple case might turn tricky, or deadly,’” he said, sounding as though he was reciting. “‘If it is available, always bring back-up.’”

Dean stared at him.

Samuel’s brow furrowed. “It’s from our employee handbook,” he said.

Dean grimaced and glanced at Sam, who shrugged.

“Cases do have a way of going sideways on us sometimes,” Sam said.

Dean sighed loudly. “Fine,” he said. “You can come.”

Samuel and Dee brightened immediately.

“I’ll get snacks,” Dee said, setting off towards the kitchen.

“I’ll work on a road trip playlist,” Samuel said, sitting back down and pulling out his phone.

Dean and Sam headed down the hall to their rooms to pack.

“I’m going to murder them,” Dean muttered.

“They could probably do with a hunt,” Sam said. “Even an easy one. It’ll be good for all of us.”

“Well, Samuel is not picking the music.”

Sam considered this for a moment. “I mean…any variety, ever, in the music we listen to might actually be a nice change of – ”

“Shotgun and backseat shut their cakeholes, Sammy. I mean it.”

***

It turned out to be a non-issue. When the four Winchesters went to the bunker’s garage to pile into the Impala, they found that the fancy boys’ car had somehow made it there, too.

“Sweetie-pie!” Dee practically sang, running over to the mint green Fiat and caressing her hood. “I missed you!”

“‘Sweetie-pie’?!” Dean said to Sam in disbelief, sotto voce.

“Dean, you call your car ‘baby.’ I don’t think you have a leg to stand on, here.”

“Shut up. She’s a lady. That’s a…” Dean gestured at it, glaring. “A clown car! And look how small it is!”

“They seem pretty attached to it,” Sam said. Samuel and Dee were walking around the car, examining it with big, bright smiles on their faces.

“I can’t believe she made it through the rift,” Dee said, delighted.

“And it has some of our things,” Samuel said. “Thank goodness. I was truly dreading having to wear their – ” He glanced over at Sam and Dean and stopped talking. He gave them an awkward smile and a little wave.

Dean scowled. “Can we get on the road, already?”

***

“We’re staying here?” Samuel said, nose wrinkled, as Dean handed him his motel room key card. He emphasized the word “here,” his disdain obvious.

“Yeah, that’s why I said I was going to check us in,” Dean snapped.

“I thought you were joking.”

“It’s not so bad,” Sam assured him. “Just – take the bedspreads off the beds before you lie down.”

Samuel looked horrified. “What? Why?”

“It’ll be fine, little brother,” Dee said, clapping Samuel on the shoulder. “We’re roughing it! It was like this for awhile after Mom died, when Dad was still building up the business. You were too young to remember. But we got by.”

Samuel sniffed and didn’t reply, tapping the key card against the lock to his and Dee’s room and flouncing inside.

Later, at the diner they’d gone to for supper, he had more to say.

“How do you live this way?” he demanded, poking at the wilted lettuce and sad, pale tomato that comprised his salad.

“I told you salad was a bad bet in a place like this,” Sam said. “Sometimes you can find decent food on the road, but sometimes you’ve just got to make do.” He lifted his burger to his mouth. Dean was already several large bites into his. Dee had opted for an omelet with veggies – and cheese, despite the look Samuel had shot him. He’d examined the cutlery carefully before using it but hadn’t said anything aloud about the food or diner.

Samuel brought a forkful of salad delicately to his mouth, making a face as he chewed. After a few bites he put his fork down and pushed the plate away.

“That is certainly not organic,” he said.

Dean rolled his eyes. “You want a few of my fries?” he offered, far more magnanimously than he thought Samuel deserved. “You should really eat before the job.”

Samuel gave the fries the side-eye and shook his head.

“Thank you, but there are healthier snacks in our car,” he said. “I’ll eat those.”

Dee eventually convinced Samuel to have some of his omelet. Samuel’s lip curled as he attempted to use his fork to shove bits of melted cheese onto his brother’s part of the eggs.

Dean had pulled out his cell and was typing busily. Sam’s phone beeped. He looked down to see a text from Dean which read, How did these two survive long enough to hunt ANYTHING?!

Sam shot Dean a warning look and went back to his burger.

***

A few miles away from the cemetery, it became very clear that the Impala had a flat tire. It was agreed that Samuel and Dee would go on ahead and Sam and Dean would meet them there shortly.

There followed half an hour of Dean cursing in increasingly creative ways and stupidly (Sam thought) refusing Sam’s help. Finally, the spare was on and they were ready to go.

The Winchesters parked and walked towards the lights they could see bobbing in the distance.

“That doesn’t look like a fire,” Dean grumbled. “Did they really not finish digging yet?”

“Are those flashlights?” Sam asked, frowning in puzzlement. Something about them didn’t look quite right.

As they approached Samuel and Dee, Sam and Dean’s jaws dropped. The fancy boys were in HazMat suits, their faces lit with lights inside the head coverings. Dee was piling bones into a biohazard bag while Samuel stood by with a bottle of bleach.



Sam and Dean stood clutching the gas, salt, and lighter. They stared at the other Winchesters. After a moment, Dee glanced around and spotted them. He grinned and waved at them.

“Hey!” he said. “Almost done!”

“What the hell are you doing?” Dean growled.

“Dee, get this – it looks like the skull’s drinking the Clorox,” Samuel said, chuckling. He’d started pouring bleach into the bag his brother held open. Dee peered in and laughed.

“I didn’t even realize its mouth was open like that,” he said.

“Excuse me!” Dean said. “I said, what in the hell are you two doing?!”

Samuel and Dee looked at him, surprised.

“Disposing of the remains,” Samuel replied.

Sam raised his gas can. “Normally we, uh, salt and burn,” he said weakly.

“Oh, wow, that brings me back,” Dee said. “We used to do that in the early days.”

“Then Dad realized that it was a purification ritual and that bleach is a modern-day cleanser and purifier,” Samuel explained. “I assure you, this method is just as effective and much faster.” He frowned. “Where is your protective gear? How do you stay pristine?”

“We don’t,” Dean snarled. “Some of us aren’t afraid of getting a little dirty.”

Samuel sniffed. “Well, I suppose that’s one explanation for your wardrobes,” he said. “You don’t have to dress like that all the time, though.”

Sam reflexively put a hand on Dean’s forearm. Dean pulled away and whirled around, feeling about one thousand percent done with the situation.

“Fine,” he said. “We’re going back to the motel. You two obviously have this covered. Come on, Sammy.”

“Wait,” Dee called, sounding a little worried. “You never know when a simple case might turn tricky, or deadly – ”

Sam saw the tightness in Dean’s retreating back and decided that getting Dean out of Samuel and Dee’s proximity was probably a good idea.

“We’ll wait for you in the car,” he said. “You have my number if something happens.”

***

Nothing did. Dean agreed to stay in the car while their doppelgangers finished the job but peeled out the second he saw them returning safely to their Fiat. He went straight to bed when he and Sam got back to the motel, too irritated even to stay up and see what was on HBO.

The next day, Sam texted Samuel from their room and suggested they do breakfast separately. He proposed McDonald’s drive-through to Dean. The junk food and time apart from the other two seemed to do Dean good. He was singing along to Led Zeppelin by the time they got back to the bunker early in the afternoon. Sam breathed a little easier.

Then Samuel and Dee got back, and everything went to hell again.

“So much time in the car,” Samuel said, stretching. “I need a workout.” He looked at Sam and Dean. “I assume you have a CrossFit gym here?”

Dean blanched. “Dude, this place was built in the fifties. They didn’t have fucking CrossFit.”

“Oh, that’s all right,” Dee said, putting a hand on Samuel’s back. “We can make do with a couple Peloton bikes.”

Sam and Dean stared at them.

“Surely you have Peloton bikes,” Samuel said. “They’re the easiest things in the world to install.”

“Sorry, no,” Sam said quickly. Dean’s face was turning an alarming shade of purple. “We have a gym – it’s kind of old-fashioned, but you can get a workout.”

Samuel sighed. “I suppose that and a sauna will have to do,” he said.

Dean stood up so fast he knocked his chair back. “We don’t have a goddamn sauna,” he said. “This isn’t fucking Club Med. We have a very nice shower – better than Sammy and I ever used to have on the regular, by the way, not that you would know jack shit about what that’s like – anyway, maybe this place isn’t up to your crazy standards, but we actually kind of like it, and no one’s forcing you to stay here. So, if it’s not good enough, you can find somewhere else to live, fancy boys.”

He stormed out of the room. Sam looked apologetically at Samuel and Dee, who looked shocked.

“I think he’s just tired from the hunt,” Sam said. “I’d better go check on him. Feel free to use the gym and the shower, if you want.”

“‘Fancy boys’?” Sam heard Dee repeat in a hurt tone as he hurried after Dean. Sam winced, wishing Dean had kept that particular moniker to himself.

***

Dean brushed off Sam’s offer to talk. Sam didn’t press him, sensing that Dean needed some time alone to cool off.

Dean paced his room for a few minutes, muttering to himself. He thought of taking a drive and immediately rejected the idea; he’d just been driving, for fuck’s sake. Finally, he threw himself down on his bed and angry-watched the goriest All Saint’s Day movie.

When it was done, he felt calmer and decided that a nice shower would relax him further. He changed into the dead guy robe and headed towards the bathroom.

He was distracted as he approached the closed door, thinking about how he could appreciate the shower even if they couldn’t. Consequently, he didn’t even notice the sound of running water until he’d opened the door and taken a step inside.

And froze. Because apparently, Samuel and Dee could appreciate the shower. They could really appreciate it, if the ecstatic look on Samuel’s face was any indication. Except, Dean suspected that this expression had less to do with superb water pressure and more to do with whatever Dee was doing with his tongue as he knelt before his brother, deep-throating Samuel’s cock.



Dean couldn’t stop staring. It was way too weird. Samuel’s anti-possession tattoo was on the wrong side and Dee had a line of runes or sigils running down his spine, but other than that, they looked exactly like Sam and Dean. Samuel’s hair was finally out of its man-bun and without gel, Dee’s was indistinguishable from Dean’s.

Samuel’s breath was coming in fast pants now, his face screwing up in a way that was all too familiar to Dean. He made a whining, needy sound. Dean had only ever been able to coax that sort of noise from Sam once or twice when he’d gotten him in deep subspace. Dean watched as someone with his brother’s identical O-face who was most definitely not his brother came with a cry.

And then he watched that person’s eyes open. Samuel immediately caught sight of Dean and looked surprised.

“Dean – ” he said, but Dean had suddenly regained the power of movement. He used it to flee the bathroom as fast as he could without actually breaking into a run.

***

Sam had holed up in his room for the afternoon, ready for a break from the tension with the other Winchesters and from Dean’s anger. He was sitting on his bed, legs outstretched, reading a trashy thriller. He’d just gotten to the good part when Dean burst into his room without knocking.

Sam put his book down with a sigh. “Dean, remember that discussion we had about respecting each other’s privacy and alone time?”

“Dude, they’re sleeping together!” Dean said urgently, slamming the door shut behind him.

Sam blinked at him. “Did you seriously bust in here to tell me about the latest developments on Dr. Sexy?”

“No!” Dean practically shouted. “Not them! The fancy boys. I just walked in on them in the bathroom – they seem to like the shower just fine, by the way – and Dee was blowing Samuel.”

Sam gave him a blasé look. “All right, well, I guess we’ve finally found something we’ve got in common with them.”

Dean looked aghast. “Yeah, but – dude, we wouldn’t do it where we could get caught.”

“Sure,” Sam agreed, sounding amused. “Except for all those times at Bobby’s, and when the other hunters were staying here they could’ve overheard, and – ”

“I’m just saying,” Dean interrupted, glaring at Sam, “they could have at least kept it to their rooms. I mean, they’re guests here, for fuck’s sake.” He turned his glare at the door, as if the expression could pass through it, down the hall, and into the bathroom to inform Dee and Samuel of his disapproval. “Ridiculous, entitled guests who are basically pricks.”

“They can be…a lot,” Sam agreed. “But – come on, Dean. We’ve got to cut them some slack. They just lost their dad and their entire universe.”

““Yeah – and about that,” Dean said, jumping eagerly onto this new source of aggravation, “why the fuck do they never say anything about that?! They seem like they don’t give a crap! Their whole world is gone and they act like it’s just really inconvenient that they don’t have a plane and five-star hotels anymore.”

Sam shrugged, sighing. “Yeah, it’s weird. But there must be a reason.”

Dean abruptly plopped down on the edge of Sam’s bed, as though he’d run out of steam. “It’s not that they seem like bad guys,” he muttered. “Annoying as fuck sometimes, but…anyway, it’s not really their fault.” He fell silent for a moment, then heaved a sigh. “You know what I can’t stop thinking about?”

“What?”

“That thing they said when they first got here. That their Dad spoils them.” Dean looked at Sam, his expression so sad it wrenched Sam’s heart. “I just…It would’ve been nice to be spoiled – like, one time, maybe – in my entire fucking childhood.”

Sam moved then, crawling across the bed until he knelt behind Dean. He wrapped his arms around his brother. Dean gripped Sam’s forearms silently.



“I know,” Sam said, pressing a gentle kiss to Dean’s neck. He heard Dean’s quiet exhale and felt Dean’s shoulders drop as some of the tension left him. “You deserved better. You deserved a real childhood.”

“So did you,” Dean said immediately.

“Yeah,” Sam agreed. “But at least I had you to make things a little easier on me. I’ll always be grateful to you for that.” He kissed Dean’s neck again, his jaw; Dean turned his head towards him and Sam kissed his lips for a long moment. As he did, he slipped his hand into Dean’s robe, enjoying the warmth of Dean’s skin and the way Dean’s breath caught at his touch.

“Lie back,” Sam said in a low voice. Dean obeyed silently, which surprised Sam slightly. He’d been half-expecting Dean to say “you don’t have to thank me,” or maybe quipping “is this how you’re going to show your gratitude?”

But Dean just scooted back on the bed and lay down. He let Sam take the lead; let him untie the robe belt and expose his naked torso, kiss his way down it. Dean made soft gasps and little pleasure sounds as Sam licked and sucked him, but he didn’t say a word. Sam drew it out as long as he could – not teasing, but wanting to take his time. Dean relaxed by degrees under Sam’s hands and mouth. When he finally came, it was with a low groan. He gave Sam a dopey grin when Sam raised his head.

They ended up spending the night in Dean’s room, only moving so they could watch his TV. Sam ventured out briefly to get them sandwiches and beers. He was relieved not to run into the other Winchesters. It was probably good for all four of them to get some breathing room.

***

Sam and Dean slept in late the next morning and Dean woke up in a better mood. Samuel and Dee had left a note on the kitchen table saying they were out for a run. Dean snorted derisively at this, but he wasn’t actually angry anymore. After breakfast he opened up his laptop and contentedly settled in with it. Sam was pleased to see he wasn’t retreating to his room again, even though their doppelgangers could arrive back at the bunker anytime. Sam elected to go to his room, intending to finish the novel Dean had interrupted the previous day.

But it was not to be.

“Knock knock,” Samuel said, standing in the doorway and ignoring the fact that he could have actually knocked on Sam’s open door.

Sam sighed internally and closed his book, keeping his finger in it in hopes that this was going to be a short conversation.

“Hey, Samuel,” he said. “How’s it going?”

Samuel smiled and nodded but didn’t say anything. He started playing with the pile of change on Sam’s dresser. There was a long moment of silence and Sam was just drawing breath to break it when Samuel spoke.

“Your brother caught us in a…compromising position yesterday,” he said, keeping his eyes on the change. “I thought it was only appropriate that I apologize to you both. We should have been more discreet, perhaps, but we were so sure that you two also…” He trailed off and began stacking the coins into little piles.

Sam huffed a little laugh. “It’s okay. Uh – we do. But you might not want to tell Dean I told you that,” he added hastily, wishing he’d thought to check with Dean before exposing that particular secret. Dean didn’t have anything like the guilt complex he used to have about them, but Sam wasn’t sure how he’d feel about these two knowing, even if they were in exactly the same situation.

“Oh!” Samuel finally looked up, smiling slightly. “I’m relieved to hear it. I was afraid we had horrified him. I thought perhaps you were going to make us leave.” His face grew more serious again. “He…seemed angry yesterday. Even before the shower incident.”

“He has kind of a short fuse sometimes,” Sam said. “We’re still getting used to this living situation. But I think he’s okay. And we’re not going to make you leave.”

Samuel looked relieved. “Good. Good.” He fell silent again but made no move to exit the room. Sam tried to think of something to say, but once again, Samuel beat him to it.

“When is your birthday?” he asked abruptly.

Sam frowned. “May 2nd.”

“What year?”

Sam’s frowned deepened. “1982. Why, what’s yours?”

Samuel looked, oddly, disappointed. “Oh. It’s the same. I thought perhaps you were…older.” Sam’s eyebrows flew up and Samuel quickly raised his hands. “Not that you look older! No, no, you’re very attractive.” Sam tried to figure out how to parse that, but Samuel was still talking. “I just meant – you and your brother seem...quite experienced.” He stared into the middle distance, looking lost. “Dee and I have traveled all over the world. We’ve been to museums and concerts and theaters everywhere. We attended the finest schools. And yet, somehow, in your flannel shirts and Wal-Mart jeans, you seem far more worldly than we could ever hope to be.”

He looked at Sam. Sam tried desperately to formulate a response.

“Look, Samuel – ”

“Might we talk privately?” Samuel interrupted. He gave a faltering smile. “Sam to Sam?”

Sam gave him a little smile in return and put his book down on the bedside table.

“Sure,” he said. “Close the door.”

***

Dean was scrolling through a classic car maintenance subreddit when Dee came into the map room with a couple of beers. He held one out to Dean with a hopeful expression.

Dean raised an eyebrow. “Beers before noon?” he said, faux-shocked as he accepted it. “Looks like I’m a bad influence on you.”

Dee laughed, a little too quickly and loudly. “Yeah, well, I don’t mind,” he said. “Uh, are you busy?”

“Not really,” Dean said, shutting his laptop. “What’s up?”

Dee sat opposite him, lowering himself slowly into the seat like he thought Dean was going to tell him not to sit down. When Dean didn’t say anything, he looked relieved.

“Look, uh, about yesterday – ” he began.

“It’s fine,” Dean cut in. “You two just kind of surprised me when I was already in a bad mood. It’s not like – ” He cleared his throat. “It’s not like me and Sam are strangers to, uh…shower activities.”

Dee looked surprised. “Oh, I wasn’t talking about that,” he said. “I thought you two must be together the same way we are. I mean, look at Sams, am I right? And is there anything you love more than him? I don’t love anything more than Samuel.”

He took a sip of his beer while Dean tried to work out how he felt about the pluralizing of “Sam” in that last sentence and what it implied about what Dee saw when he looked at Sam, but Dee had already gone on.

“I meant about the gym thing,” Dee said. “And, you know, the sauna, and the motel, and the diner…Samuel doesn’t remember how it used to be. Not really. HunterCorp was already getting off the ground by the time he was five. Took awhile longer to get really successful, but we were already living in a house, not a motel. He’s just – still getting used to a different world.”

Dean gave him a nod. “Yeah, I guess I can see how that would be pretty weird.”

“I’m sure he’ll apologize himself, later. But in the meantime, I was wondering if maybe we could talk.” He leaned forward, making ducky lips and gesturing between the two of them. “You know – Dean to Dean.”

Dean gave him the side-eye as he took a swig of beer. “I mean, I guess, if you promise to never say that again,” he replied. “I’m not really a heart-to-heart kind of guy, but…what did you want to talk about?”

***

Samuel sat facing Sam, crossed-legged at the end of Sam’s bed. He played with the end of his scarf. Sam waited patiently for him to speak.

“I suppose,” Samuel said at last, “that Dee and I aren’t handling the destruction of our world very well.”

“You two seem like you’re doing okay,” Sam said.

Samuel gave him a tight smile. “Dee puts on a brave front,” he said.

“So does Dean.”

“I think perhaps Dee’s adapting better than I am – or trying to, at any rate. I think my brother would like to be your Dean.” Samuel sighed. “I…find myself struggling. Your lives are so different from ours. It throws our loss into sharp relief.” He rubbed his mouth. “I can’t stop thinking about Dad. Is he dead? Is he somewhere else in this world? How could we find him if he was? I feel lost without him. He always guided us; told us what to do and how to do it.”

Sam nodded sympathetically. “It was that way with our dad, too. I rebelled against it a lot, but after he died, I suddenly missed it. I found myself wanting to do what I thought he’d want me to do.”

Samuel was staring at him, mouth slightly open.

“You…rebelled?” Samuel sounded scandalized.

“I wanted to go to college,” Sam replied. “And I didn’t want to hunt. Dad wasn’t happy about it.”

“What did you do?!”

“I managed to get a scholarship to Stanford. And then…” Sam shrugged. “I left.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

Samuel looked dazed. “It never even occurred to me to rebel,” he murmured. “Of course, I attended college. In Boston. Well, the Boston area.”

Sam sighed internally, knowing what was coming and deciding to let Samuel have it. “Where did you go?”

“Oh, Harvard,” Samuel said, with an air of casual smugness that Sam thought was maybe pumped into the vents at Harvard. After a second, he deflated. “Well. So, I had no reason to rebel. I had schooling and lived in the lap of luxury. Why would I want to leave?” He looked at Sam with unnerving intensity; he looked almost beseeching, Sam thought, as though he wanted Sam to convince him that there was something in his old life not to miss.

“You never minded hunting?” Sam asked, curious as much as he was trying to help.

“Oh, no,” Samuel laughed, flapping his hand in a dismissive gesture. “What’s to mind about that? It’s no worse than any job.”

Sam blinked. “Really?”

***

“You really don’t want to know,” Dean said.

“No, I do!” Dee said eagerly. “I want to hear about your life. It’s so different from mine! It’s wild!”

Dean groaned.

“Please? Just give me the short version,” Dee wheedled.

“Dude, even the short version is three hours long and you’ll have nightmares.”

“What about the really short version?”

Dean heaved a sigh and set down his beer. “All right – you asked for it.” He looked Dee dead in the eye. “I’ve been hunting ever since I was a kid. We grew up on the road, and I took care of Sammy whenever Dad was off on a case. I never finished high school. I’ve died so many times I’ve lost track, and that’s not counting the hundreds of times Sam saw it that I don’t remember. I’ve been to Heaven, Hell, and Purgatory. We saved the world from a bunch of different apocalypses. In between that, monsters are constantly up our ass. I was a demon myself for a while, kind of. I had a weird thing with God’s sister. Oh, and last year an angel possessed me.”

Dee looked like he’d been hit by a truck. “Is that everything?”

Dean laughed. “That’s barely the highlights.”

Dee slumped back in his chair and took a morose sip of his beer. “This is so unfair,” he muttered. “Dad won’t – wouldn’t even let us fight a demon.”

Dean half-choked on his own mouthful of beer. “Let you?!” he spluttered.

“He always sends a big team, but he never lets us go along,” Dee said. “And do you know that the other night at the cemetery was me and Samuel’s first hunt alone? Dad always makes us take at least two people as backup, even on simple cases. Bobby, Ellen, Rufus, Jody…Oh, and of course, Jo and Charlie and Donna get to go along on the demon hunts, even though we don’t.” He shook his head. “It’s not like they’re older and more experienced than we are!”

Dean found, to his horror, that the expression on his doppelganger’s face was rapidly approaching a pout. He was seized with an overwhelming urge to get rid of it immediately.

“Listen,” he said, “I don’t know what your dad’s deal is, but you should not be envying my life. All those people you just mentioned? In my world, most of them are dead. Fighting demons freaking sucks. And you did hear the part about how I’ve died a fuckton of times, right?”

“Yes.” Dee played with the neck of his beer bottle. “Still. It would’ve been nice to be trusted the way your dad trusted you. And now, you can do whatever you want, whenever you want.”

“Well, I guess the one upside of losing your universe and being stuck in our crappy life is that now, you can too. Right?”

Dee met Dean’s eyes. He looked lost. “Yeah,” he said softly. “But I don’t think I know how.”

***

“Why,” Samuel demanded, “are you still hunting?”

Sam half-smiled. Samuel had described their typical hunt, which had sounded to Sam like what his father would have called “coddling” once Sam was out of middle school. Then Samuel had demanded to know what the life was like from Sam’s perspective. Sam had done his best, which had necessarily included some of the darker aspects of his history.

“It’s what we do,” Sam said finally. “It’s tough. Sometimes nightmarish. But we help people. We’re good at it.” He shrugged. “At this point, it just feels right.”

Samuel bit his lip. He looked like he was trying not to cry. “It all sounds like a nightmare,” he said. “This world, it’s…” He looked down, shaking his head.

“It can be bad,” Sam agreed. “But there’s still good things in it, too. And I’ve got Dean. Just like you’ve got Dee.”

Samuel looked up, eyes bright with tears and hope. “And now, we all have each other,” he said.

Sam huffed a little laugh, smiling at his doppelganger. “Yeah,” he said. He wasn’t exactly sure what that would end up looking like, but Samuel wasn’t wrong. Sam couldn’t help but feel a certain connection with Samuel and Dee.

Samuel beamed at him, then suddenly launched himself at Sam. He pulled Sam into a tight hug. Sam froze for an instant in surprise, then relaxed and hugged Samuel back. It was a little awkward, but nice, Sam thought. Samuel was a good hugger.

It was a little weird that Samuel’s lips brushed Sam’s cheek as he pulled away, but Sam remembered how much time the fancy boys had spent traveling and decided it was probably a habit from other countries.

***

Dean had brought Dee to the kitchen to get them more drinks, declaring this a “multi-beer” problem. He put the opened bottle onto the kitchen table in front of Dee and sat down opposite him.

“Look, when our old man died, I didn’t know what to do with myself either, okay?” Dean said. “But I figured it out. We always figure it out.”

“But things kept happening,” Dee said. “You seem to be fighting all the time. Not to mention all the other people you’ve lost. How do you keep going?”

“Oh, that’s easy,” Dean said confidently. “I figured that shit out in high school.” He grinned. “My friend, let me tell you about the Dean Winchester Three Bs.” He counted them out on his fingers. “Booze, burgers, and babes.”

Dee blinked at him.

“I try not to drink, y’know, too much,” he said cautiously. “Me and Samuel have shared women, sometimes, but – and burgers? The cholesterol…”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Okay, first of all, almost everything you just said is ridiculous. But anyway, it doesn’t matter because they’re more like categories, all right? First, booze – you gotta have something to help you relax and maybe numb the pain for awhile if you really can’t cope. I like beer and whiskey, but it could be weed, or – I dunno, I guess even exercise, if you want.” He grimaced.

Dee had brightened considerably at this explanation. “Should I be writing this down?”

“It’s three Bs, Dee. I think you got it.”

Dee sat back a little but nodded.

“Okay, second, burgers. Doesn’t have to be burgers. Could be pie. Or any other food. Or anything you enjoy, really. Good music. Stupid movies or TV shows that make you laugh.” He pulled a face. “Books, if you’re a nerd.”

Dee sat up a little straighter again. “I love listening to a good podcast in the car,” he said. He looked suddenly panicked. “Do you have podcasts here?”

Dean fought the instinct to make another face, because this was progress. “Sure,” he said, forcing cheerfulness into his tone. “I don’t know if we have the same ones, but there are a lot of them. And like a hundred new ones every week. There’s gotta be some out there you’d like.” Dee beamed. “Right, so burgers just means anything that can make you happy for a little while. You gotta hold on to that shit.”

Dee nodded, face bright.

“Third, babes.” Dean paused for a moment. “Look, like I said, I came up with this in high school, and I wasn’t really – uh, admitting or whatever that I liked guys, too.”

“So, babes means sex?”

“Yeah.” Dean shrugged. “I mean, not just. That’s what I thought it was at first. But it’s also…” He hesitated. “People in general. The people we save. The people we care about.” He paused and swallowed. “Sam. It always comes down to Sam, for me.”

“For me too,” Dee said quietly. “Samuel, I mean.”

Dean gave him a short nod. “But, yeah, it’s other people, too. Friends and family. The whole goddamn human race, assholes and all. We have to keep going and keep fighting for ‘em, because – who else is going to?”

He lifted his beer to take another sip, but Dee raised his suddenly in a toast.

“To the people we care about,” he said.

He was making an unnerving amount of eye contact, but Dean chuckled anyway and clinked his bottle against Dee’s.

“Yeah, to them,” he said.

***

Part 2