PART TWO: Learning Curve

 

“Has he said how long John's been missing?”

“He won't talk about it.  Neither of them will.”

“No one's heard from him in over a year.”

“That doesn't mean anything, Ellen, you know John.”

“Yeah, I do.”

Dean stood outside the door to the bar, listening to Bobby talking to someone named Ellen.  Sammy was sitting next to him, arms around his legs, chin on his knees, staring out at nothing in particular.  Bobby hadn't called the police, he hadn't turned Dean and Sammy over to the authorities.  Instead, he'd taken them to a doctor friend of his, who'd treated Dean for a badly sprained ankle and fixed them up while Bobby made some calls, looking for someone who could take care of them.  Five days later they were here, standing in front of the Harvelle's Roadhouse, Sammy with his arm lightly bandaged from elbow to fingers to hide the healing bite marks and Dean with a brace on his ankle, propped up on crutches… but only because Bobby had boxed his ears when he'd tried to walk without them.

“What are you doing here?”  Dean whipped around.  Or, well, he stumbled around, because it was hard to move quickly with crutches.  A girl, probably only a year or two younger than Dean was standing a few feet away.  She was cute, with blonde hair pulled back into a tangled ponytail and big brown doe eyes, wearing faded jeans, a tank top, combat boots and a stern expression.  “I said, what are you doing here?”

Sammy stared at her, openly curious, but not talking.  He hadn't said a word since Dean had pulled him out of the vampire's den.

Dean shrugged at her, “We're with Bobby.”

“Oh.”  She tilted back on her heals.  “Who are you?”

“I'm Dean, this is my brother Sammy.”

She looked at Sammy, returning his curiosity, “Why doesn't he say anything?”

Protectiveness welled inside Dean, “Because he doesn't want to.”

The door opened behind them.  “Jo, get in here.  You, too, boys.”

Sammy scrambled up and clutched Dean's jacket, following him through the door and into the bar.  Jo moving to stand next to a woman that Dean assumed was Ellen.  Ellen returned his stare with a reproving glare.  “Bobby tells me you called him because your dad's missing.”

Sammy shrank behind Dean, who stood straighter.  “Yes, ma'am.”

“How long has he been missing?”  Dean closed his mouth tightly as she frowned at him, reminding him strongly of when Dad had been about to punish him for doing something stupid.  “Bobby says there are some serious miles on that car.”

“We followed Dad around in it.”

Ellen crossed her arms over her chest and stared him down for a minute, but Dean wasn't caving.  “Jo, go play out back.”

“But, mama...”

“Now, honey.”  Jo sighed, but trounced outside.  Bobby followed, giving the boys a sympathetic glance.

“I understand that something happened to you boys and I understand that you may not want to talk about it, but if you're going to stay here, you'll abide by my rules.”  Stay here?!   “First thing, I do not accept lying.   You don't want to talk about it, then don't talk about it, but don't lie.”

Sammy leaned over to look past Dean at Ellen.

“You don't go out without permission, you work here in the evenings and on weekends and you will be going back to school.”  Dean started to protest, but she raised an eyebrow and he shut up.  “I had your records checked out and I know you haven't been back since last Fall.  The chairman of the local school board was a Hunter, he retired when he lost his leg and he's agreed to let you boys attend there, no questions asked.   You start in two weeks.”

Dean wanted to argue.  He wanted to say that he didn't have to do a damn thing this woman said, except that Sammy had lit up at the word school and that was the first time he'd seen Sammy look like that since before Dad disappeared.

“You will attend every class.  If you miss a single day you had better be on your death beds.  Do I make myself clear?”

Sammy walked out and stood beside Dean, though he still held his brother's jacket tightly.  Dean fought the urge to put an arm around Sammy's shoulders.  “Yeah, perfectly.”

“Good.  Oh, one more thing.   You don't have a license and until you do, you don't step foot in that car.”

“But...!”

“No, buts.”

Sammy tugged on his sleeve and he looked at his brother, who looked back up at him, looking younger than ten even and that was young enough.  Sammy came first.  They could be safe here and fed and Sammy could go to school.  He'd always been good at school.

“Fine.”

Sammy smiled.

 

*****

 

Four Years Later:

“Aunt Ellen!  Aunt Ellen!”

“Shut up, geek face, and stop calling her that, she's not your aunt.”

Sammy ignored him.  “Aunt Ellen!”

Ellen came out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a rag and looked at the boys, smiling at Sammy before casting Dean one of her warning looks that said she'd heard what he'd called Sammy.  “What is it, Sam?”

“I got my test back!”  He handed it to her and her smile widened as she pulled him into a rough hug.

“A+ in English.  What am I going to do with two geniuses in the family?”

Sammy blushed, “I'm not a genius.”

Dean rolled his eyes, “Yeah, stop filling his head with nonsense.”

Ellen gave Dean another look and he waved his hand, “Yeah, yeah, I know.  I'll be out back.”

He gave his brother one last look before heading towards the back where the large bags of trash from last night were waiting to be loaded onto the flat bed and driven to the dump.  Jo was standing outside, leaning against the wall in her most worn and faded jeans, looking as if she'd been waiting all day, when he knew for a fact that she'd only been home for an hour.

Jo and Sammy went to the same school, but Jo was a senior and got out early, whereas Sammy stayed right up until 3:00 and Dean had to pick him up, because Sammy didn't like riding the bus.  Secretly, Dean preferred it that way, it meant he was the first one that got to hear about Sammy's day.

“What kept you?”

Dean pulled his gloves down from the wall, “Sammy got an A+ on his test.”

“He'll be joining Ash at MIT if you're not careful.”

Dean's stomach dropped and it must have shown on his face, because she winked at him, grabbing the first bag and hoisting it only the trick.  In the past four years, Sammy had changed so much that sometimes Dean hardly recognized him.  It hadn't happened overnight or anything, the first time they had taken Sammy to school and he realized that he wouldn't even be in the same building as Dean, he'd thrown a fit, but slowly, he'd gained independence.

He'd also grown, and not in any small way, either.  There had been a brief period when he was twelve that he'd gotten a little on the chubby side, but then he'd shot up and at fourteen, he was almost as tall as Dean's twenty and he was gangly skinny, even though he ate his weight in food three times a day.

Dean wouldn't admit it, but he liked it here, and not just because Sammy had flourished, but because it felt like... well, not home, but as close to it as he'd gotten to it since he was four.  He had his brother and Ellen and all the Hunters that used to be friends of his father's that were glad to teach him when they were passing through.

“Hey, slow poke, I thought I was supposed to be helping, not the other way around.”

He even had Jo - Jo flashed him a smile and wiggled her eyebrows suggestively - even if she was a pain in the ass.

“Yeah, yeah, all you ever do it bitch and moan, little Joanna.”

“Deano.”

“JoJo.”

“Jackass.”

“Princess.”

The next moment he had a face full of onion slices and Jo was laughing at him.  He picked up a handful of yesterday's lettuce and tossed it at her.  She tried to dodge, but they caught her hip and she gave a disgusted glare at the smeared mess.  “Oh, gross, Dean!”

“You started it.”

“Did not!”  She threw a beer crusted paper towel and he countered with stale, buttered bread.

“That's it, you're dead, pretty boy!”  He was caught off guard for a moment, forgetting where he was, losing himself in memories that he tried everyday to repress. 

You look so fucking pretty with my cock in your mouth.

Hey, pretty boy, how much to fuck your ass?

You're real perty when you cry.

He was pulled out of it almost instantly as she barreled into him, knocking him on his ass.  She reached behind him, trying to get a grip on his underwear to give him a wedgie.

He laid down and grabbed her arms, rolling over so that he was on top of her, holding her down and she went limp, grinning up at him.  “What now, Deano?”

Suddenly, he knew what this was about and he couldn't fathom why he hadn't seen it before.  She was flirting with him!

He let her go, practically jumping off her.  Jo frowned and sat up, looking at him in confusion and he was so glad when the backdoor opened, cutting off whatever question she was opening her mouth to ask.  Sammy stepped out.   He looked at them suspiciously.  “Ellen says that if you don't stop screwing around, she's gonna come out here and whoop your sorry ass.”

“Sammy, don't make me wash that mouth of yours out with soap!”

Sammy stuck out his tongue at Dean, “You'd have to catch me first and it's Sam.”

That was Sammy's new thing.  Apparently, Sammy was a baby's name and now that he was almost as tall as Dean, he wasn't a baby anymore, so it was Sam.  He'd always be Sammy to Dean, though.

“Hey.”

He looked back at Jo and a felt his ears heat up as he remembered having her under him;  her slim hips trapped under his weight, wiggling against him before surrendering...  “I can finish this on my own.  You go help your mom.”

She frowned, “Dean...”

“Just go, okay?”

 

*****

 

Dinner was tense and Dean wasn't even sure why, but he got the feeling it was his fault.  Jo kept glaring at him like he was a slime demon and Sammy kept throwing glances between Dean and Jo, pouting at his plate.  Ellen noticed, but didn't say anything.  At least, she didn't for the first twenty minutes, but when it became apparent that no one intended to eat anything, she order Jo and Sammy to go watch television.

“Mom.”

“Now, Jo.”

Sammy threw his napkin down, storming out and Jo followed.  Ellen quickly turned on Dean.  “What the hell was that about?”

“I don't know.”

“Don't lie to me, Dean.”

He put his fork down on his plate and glared at her.  “Okay, then, it's none of your business.”

“If it involves my daughter, it is my business and if you haven't noticed, Dean, I have put up with a lot of your crap over the last few years, so don't start with me.  What happened?”

He scowled at the table, hating this.  “Nothing, okay?  Nothing happened.  She made a move, I backed off and that was it.  Sammy... hell, I'm not even sure why he's pissed.”

“Promise me, Dean.”

He looked at her and sighed deeply.  “I promise, Ellen, nothing happened.”

After a moment, she nodded.  “I got a call from Caleb.  He says he has a job and he'd like your help.  Something involving a fire demon.”

“Really?”  Caleb had promised Dean the next time he had a job involving a real demon, he'd let him come, but Dean hadn't really thought he'd meant it.  “Can I go?”

Ellen nodded.  “Yes, Dean, you're twenty, so I hardly think I could stop you, but you have to tell Sam.”

That was harsh.  He fought the scowl that threatened to reassert itself. This wasn't the first hunting trip he'd been on, but telling Sammy that he was going hunting was never easy.  In fact, that was why Ellen made him do it.  “When does he get here?”

“He'll pick you up tomorrow afternoon.”

Dean gave her the customary goodbye nod and went through the kitchen door and into the living room where Jo and Sammy sat on the couch.  He doubted Jo noticed it, but Sammy was practically leaning over the arm of the sofa in his effort to sit as far away from her as possible.

“Hey, kido, can I have a word with you?”

Sammy didn't look up, just stood up and shoved his hands in his pockets, brushing past Dean on the way to his bedroom.  It was a small room, barely large enough for the two single beds, let alone the dresser.  The wooden floor was scarred from when they'd first moved in and Dean had had to shove the beds together, because Sammy kept crawling in with him at night and one of them would eventually fall off.   Now that Sammy was older, they slept apart mostly.  Although, sometimes Sammy still had nightmares and Dean would put the beds together for the night so they could huddle together like they used to do in the car.

Tonight wasn't one of those nights. Sammy sat on his bed, sulky and breaking Dean's heart, because he knew it was about to get worse.  Sammy looked up at him obstinately.  “What?”

“Caleb is picking me up tomorrow.”

As predicted, Sammy's face went white and then red.   “Don't go.  I've got a bad feeling.”

“You've always got a bad feeling, Sammy, and I always come back just fine.”

“But...”

“No buts, Sammy, I'll drive you to school tomorrow, but you'll have to take the bus home.”

Sammy's lip trembled and he crossed his arms over his chest and pulled his feet up on the bed.  “Fine.”

“Sammy...”

“It's Sam.”

Sammy got off the bed and stormed out of the room.  Dean started to follow, but Jo stepped in the way, looking at him with as much recrimination as Sammy.

“Not you, too.”

“Going hunting?”

He rolled his eyes, “Yeah, what, you gonna tell me not to go, too?”

She shook her head and looked at him, but he couldn't read her face.  Her hand came up and cupped the back of his head, pulling him down as she lifted onto her tiptoes and pressed her mouth to his, kissing him almost chastely.  As she pulled back, she swept her tongue over his lips.

“Be careful.”

Dean watched her leave and his skin crawled.  He felt dirty.

 

*****

 

He wasn't pretty.  Dean ran his hands over his face, feeling the stubble scratch his fingers.  He'd been so happy the day he'd started growing facial hair.   If he kept it at just the right stage of stubble, it made his jaw line look harder and took some of the softness away from his lips and then he was handsome, not pretty.

Jo's words echoes in his head, followed by the words of all those men that he couldn't even remember the faces of.

“Hey, Dean, you okay over there?”

He looked at Caleb, who was trying to keep his eyes on the road while simultaneously throwing Dean concerned glances.  Dean pushed himself up from his slouch and nodded, “Yeah, no, I'm fine, just... Sammy was pretty pissed last night.”

“Ah.  How's his training coming.”

“Fine.”  Dean had insisted that Sammy train with him four times a weak, because eventually, they'd have to leave the shell of protection that Ellen provided and then they'd be on their own again.   Dean wanted to know that Sammy could protect himself.  “He wants to join the soccer team.”

Caleb chuckled, “Soccer, huh?”

“Yeah, I told him, no.  There's not enough time between homework, working at the bar, and training.”

“And?”

“And he's trying out next year.”

“That boy's got you wrapped around his finger.”

Dean nodded, a half smile on his lips.  “Just don't tell him that.”

“Bad news, Dean, I think he already knows.”  Dean shook his head, laughing.  It was true, he couldn't deny Sammy anything, especially when he pouted.  If Dean had it his way, he'd take care of Sammy and never leave Ellen's, but for that to work, Sammy would have to never grow up and that just wasn't going to happen.

The only thing Dean was good for was hunting and he knew it.   He'd been lousy in school.  Hell, he would have dropped out before graduating, except Ellen threatened to kick him out if he did.  Sammy, though, was another story.  Sammy was really smart and Dean was starting to worry that Sammy wouldn't want to hunt.

Caleb pulled into a bar, claiming that they needed food and he needed to pee, so Dean shook off the thought.  He probably had nothing to worry about.  Demons had killed both their parents and Sammy and him would hunt them down and kill them, slow and painful.

Dean preferred stopping at diners and he'd made no secret of it, but Caleb was the driver and driver picked the rest stops.  Looking around the dingy bar, Dean watched some men playing pool, wondering if he would have been able to get in here back then or if he would have had to... he stopped himself and ordered a drink.

The bartender was a pretty woman in her early twenties.  She smiled as she passed him a Miller and then winked.  Dean gave her a half smile and ducked his head, hoping to deter her from further flirting.

“Hey, cutey.  What's your name?”

Looking up reluctantly, he forced himself to keep smiling, because he hated admitting when he was nervous.  “Dean Colt.”

“Like the gun?”

“Yeah,” and didn't that just turn her on, because she was licking her lower lip.  It was a nice lower lip, full and pink, like her nipples, which were just showing over the top of a tank top that was cut far too low to be considered decent. 

She leaned forward and he stared at her face in favor of looking down her shirt.  “That's cool.”

Thankfully, Caleb chose that moment to show up and Dean relaxed.  The girl looked at Caleb in annoyance, but got him the beer he requested with minimal attitude.  Then Caleb looked at Dean and motioning to a table in the back of the bar.  “I'm going to go sit over there for a while.  You have fun, kid.”

Before Dean could protest, Caleb was gone again and he was left staring at the bartender, who seemed more than just a little pleased at the turn of events.  “Hi, again.”

Dean tried to play it off.  He talked to her, because she wouldn't leave him alone otherwise. After about half an hour, when it became apparent he wasn't falling for her, she lost interest and went back to her job.  Caleb came and got him and they hit the road.

It was silent this time.  Not that it was usually loud, but Caleb was edging on his seat, like there was something he wanted to say, but didn't know how to say it.  Finally, Dean couldn't stand it anymore.  “What?”

Caleb looked at him briefly before turning his eyes back to the road.  “Nothing, kid, I was just...”  he flinched and Dean thought that couldn't be a good sign.  “I was just wondering if you, you know... bat for the home team?”

“Do I what?”  Dean was perfectly aware of what that meant, but he couldn't wrap his head around why Caleb would be saying that about him.

“You know, are you... gay?”

“No!”

“Don't get defensive, Dean, not like I'd think less of you if you were, it's just that me and the boys have noticed how you don't really... get along with the girls.”  Dean bent forward, burying his burning face in his hands.  “Come on, Dean, did you think we wouldn't figure it out?  They all but throw themselves at you and you never look twice.  If anything, you run screaming.”

“I do not!”

“Okay, you don't run screaming - you excuse yourself and you make Jo wait the table.”

Dean looked up, trying to ignore the fact that he knew he was tomato red.  “Caleb, I'm not gay, I just don't like the girls I've met so far.  Now can we drop this?”

Caleb laughed a little, but it was clearly in a relieved sort of way that made Dean feel even worse.  “All right, we'll drop it, but just to let you know, if you decide you are, you can tell me.”

Dean nodded and sat up, looking out the window.  “Fine.”

 

*****

 

The job went off without a hitch.  Fire demon done and dealt with and they were back at the Roadhouse, all in under a week's time.  Except now, Dean was starting to think things he hadn't thought before.  Like, what if he was gay?  He hadn't liked the sex he'd had with men and he'd always assumed that meant he was straight, but Caleb was right, he'd never really been attracted to girls either.

Maybe he should just give girls a try.  The idea of sex in general had always made him a bit queasy, but it had been two years, maybe it was about time he got over it.

“Dean, you back here?”  Jo came around the corner of the weapon's shed, spotting Dean sitting on the ground.  “There you are.   I've been looking everywhere.  What are you doing?”

“Thinking.”  He stood up and leaned against the wall.  “Do you need something?”

She shook her head.  “No, Mom was worried, so she told me to come find you.”  She came up and stood next to him.  “You've been real quiet since you came back.  Did something happen?”

“No.”  Dean hated lying to Jo, but what was he supposed to tell her?

“I'm glad you made it back safe.”

He turned to look at her, to tell her that he was fine and could she leave him alone for a little while longer?  Except when he moved, her lips met his again and they were kissing.  Part of him wanted to push her away, but the other part was winning out, the part that thought he should give it a try and who better to try it with than Jo.  At least he trusted her.

Slowly, he kissed her back.  It wasn't the first time he'd kissed anyone.  Sometimes a trick had gotten caught up in whatever moment they thought they were having and Dean had learned to reciprocate, because it hadn't meant anything, anyway.  She moved to standing in front of him and then leaned in, pressing him between her and the wall and he felt instantly suffocated.

Shoving her around, he switched their positions, so she was under him and he was leaned down slightly, smothering her with his mouth.  One of his hands stole down and cupped her ass and he thought, ‘this isn't so bad.'  She moaned and he touched her hair.  It was silky and nice and she was using tongue now and he did that, too.  Nothing new, but he'd never been on this end of it before, never been the one in control.

Jo's hand moved over his shirt and then under it, pushing it up until he lifted his arms and let her take it off.  Her hands on his back felt weird, they were small and her nails were long, scratching against his skin and sending tingles up his spine and to his... well, look at that, it did work.

Her shirt scratched against his skin, so he returned the favor of removing it for her.  Her breasts weren't very big, but they fit in his hand perfectly and he kissed her again, massaging them experimentally.

Then Sammy's voice cut through his arousal.  “Dean!”

Sammy was standing there, his face white and his green eyes too wide.  Dean backed away from Jo, while she dropped to her knees, grabbing her shirt and pulling it back on, just in time to cover herself before her mother came around the corner.

“Sam, did you find...”  Dean wasn't looking at his brother anymore, because Ellen's face was red with anger, taking in Dean's shirtless form and her daughter, still adjusting her dirt covered tank top.  He was trying to think of anything he could say to make it better.  If he had been paying attention to Sammy, perhaps what his brother said wouldn't have caught him so off guard.

“You're doing it again, aren't you?”

Every eye focused on the fourteen-year-old who wasn't pale anymore, but every bit as angry red as Ellen.

“Sammy...”

“You're doing it like you did with those men!”

Ellen's mouth dropped open, although Dean had to admit it had effectively quelled her anger at having found him with Jo.  “No, Sammy...”

“Why?!  We don't need the money anymore!  Ellen takes care of us!”

“Sammy!”

Sammy started and suddenly seemed to realize that they weren't alone.  He went back to pale so fast that Dean was afraid he'd pass out, but he didn't.  Instead, he looked from Ellen to Jo then back to Dean before turning and running towards the house.  Dean would have followed him, but he was pinned by Ellen's stare.

“I...”

“Jo, go see to Sam.”

“Mom, this was my idea...”

“Jo.”

Jo looked hurt, but went off, following the sound of the slamming door, leaving Dean alone.  Alone with Ellen, who probably knew everything Dean had never wanted her to and he almost couldn't breathe because of it.

“Dean, for right now, I'm going to pretend that I don't know what you and Jo were doing.  I'm going to pretend I don't know you lied to me...”

“I didn't,” he needed her to know that, because as much as he may have not told her things, he had never lied to her.  “Nothing was going on before, I swear.”

She nodded her understanding, but didn't relax.  “Okay, but I need answers, because what Sam said just now sounded like you've been getting paid to have sex with men.”

There was a long pause and Dean had to fight not to back down from her.  “Was.  I haven't done it since we came here.”

“Explain.”

“It's none of your business.”

“I'm making it my business.”  He recognized that tone, it meant this wasn't an argument, it was an order.  Like when Dad said to take Sammy and run.

“Dad...”  Damnit, his eyes were watering.  He'd avoided talking about this for so long, but it was four years gone and it shouldn't hurt anymore.  “He disappeared and we didn't have anywhere to go.  Sammy needed food, we needed gas, and we needed somewhere to sleep sometimes.”

“For how long?”

He wished he had his jacket on so he could put his hands in the pockets and she wouldn't have to see him balling his fists to try and get control over himself.  “A year and a half.”  He knew the question that was going to come next, so he answered it before she could ask.  “I was afraid they'd split us up.  Dad always said that all we had was each other and with him gone, I just...”

..didn't know what to do.  God, he'd only been fifteen, that was only a year older than Sammy was now, less really, because Sammy's birthday was coming up soon.  Dean imagined Sammy doing the things he'd done and that was painful.   He blinked and a few of the tears escaped   “Ellen...” Only there wasn't anything he could say to make it better.

He closed his eyes, expecting her to leave, but she didn't.  She came forward and wrapped her arms around him and he stopped crying.  He was stunned and then relieved.  There wasn't anything tense in her hold, just comforting.  Slowly, he hugged her back.  She was shorter than he was by inches, but that didn't matter, because right now, he felt really small.

“I never let Sammy do it, I swear.  I never let anyone touch him.”

“I know.”  She probably did, too.  Their first few months there Dean had flipped out anytime one of the patrons had so much as clapped Sammy on the back.  “You'll have to give Sam ‘the talk.'”

Dean laughed and he felt better for it, pulling away from her.   “Yeah, I guess so.”  God, that was going to be awkward and not the birds-and-the-bees kind of awkward of explaining what sex was, either, because Sammy sure as hell knew that, but the kind of awkward where you have to explain about the bees not paying for it.

Ellen touched his arm, “You okay now?”

“Yeah.”

She nodded, more to herself and went back to looking at him, evaluative.  “Now, about Jo...”

“Nothing happened.”

“But it will.”  She interrupted him and held up a hand when he tried to refute it.  “I don't like it, but Jo's almost eighteen and I suppose there are far worse people for her to be having a fling with.  So, fine, but there will be ground rules.  You be honest with her, tell her everything, because she is not going into this without knowing the truth and if things get far enough along, and I suspect they will, you will use protection or I will castrate you myself.  Am I clear?”

He nodded, because Ellen wasn't in the mood to argue.

“Oh, and you're getting tested.”

“I'm what?!”

“Tested.  I'm hauling your ass to the clinic next week.”  He opened his mouth, but that damned raised eyebrow shut him up again.  “Another thing, I better not catch you two sneaking off to fool around during work hours.”

“No, ma'am.”

Seeing that he was properly subdued, she sighed, “Put your shirt on and go talk to Sam.  I expect he's locked himself in his room again, so you'll be climbing through the window, if he'll let you.”

If Sammy would let him was right, because when his little brother was mad enough at him, Dean slept on the couch.  She walked away from him, giving him a pat on the back and he knew that was her way of saying it was okay and... it was, wasn't it?  She knew and she wasn't throwing him out, she wasn't taking Sammy away from him, or any of the other hundred things he'd feared would happen.

Of course, she didn't know everything, but she didn't have to.  There were some things he'd keep to himself until the day he died.  Shaking his head, he took a deep breath and steeled himself for what was about to come and headed off towards the house.

-Finis-