Work Text:
He never thought he’d miss it. The running for his life, the crappy food, the questionable beds in questionable motels, the constantly being on the move. But while the time in college and law school had been fine, he’d been working as a court clerk for six months and he was so, so bored. Turns out Dean had it right: suburbia and 9-to-5 and apple pie? Sucked.
Okay, the apple pie was usually delicious.
If he could, he’d call Dean. Hell, he’d even call his dad. But they were both dead. John taken out by the thing that killed Mom, Dean by some sort of plane crash. When Dean died, Sam couldn’t believe it. Some part of him had always thought of Dean as invincible. It was also when he wrote off his dad, because the news came from Jim Murphy, not John Winchester. All this time and his dad couldn’t be bothered to call when Dean died, Sam figured he didn’t owe his dad anything, and his dad was way better than he was and couldn’t get revenge for Mom so all Sam would do by trying is get himself killed.
He wouldn’t even know where to start, setting out on his own.
“Sam Winchester?” A voice, Cajun accent, that Sam didn’t recognize. But calling him Winchester. After Dean’s death, and John’s failure to call, Sam had legally changed his name to Samuel Dean Campbell.
“Who’s asking?” Sam didn’t trust anyone who knew the name Winchester anymore. Not since most of John’s old friends had been killed to drive John out of hiding. And this guy sure wasn’t Bobby Singer.
“Name’s Benny LaFitte, I was a friend of Dean Winchester. Got a package a few years back, instructions to retrieve some things and deliver ‘em to his brother Sam. That you?”
“Dean Winchester died in 2005. It took you four years to find someone you think is his brother Sam?”
Benny shrugged. “He’s a hard man to find. Dean’s letter said he went to Stanford, didn’t say anything about what he was plannin’ for afterwards. I went to Stanford, thought I had ‘im in early 2006, but then… poof. Gone. Finally caught a trail from Ellen Harvelle. You know her?”
“Nope, never heard of her.” Didn't mean she didn't know of him, could've been a friend of Dad's that he'd burned bridges with when Sam was still too small to remember. Could be a hunter who was just better at finding people than Benny was.
“My job’s trackin’ vampires and other things, not humans. Had no idea how to track someone who knew how to obliterate himself from the record. Ellen's the one who thought to look for your new name.”
“Vampires.”
“Yeah.”
Whatever this guy was pulling, he'd made a mistake. “They’re extinct.”
Benny smirked. “Tell that to the nest I cleaned out last week. They’re extinct, but the race sure ain’t.”
“Huh. Dad was wrong.” That was rare enough that Sam almost didn't realize he'd slipped. Too late to change it now, though.
“So you are Sam?”
Sam sighed. May as well acknowledge it. “Yeah. I’m Sam.”
“Well, come on outside. Got something out there for you.”
Sam raised an eyebrow. “That doesn’t sound creepy at all.”
Benny grinned. “Well, it’s a bit big to bring in here.”
“Not helping…” Sam got to his feet and headed outside. He knew exactly what Benny was supposed to give him the second he laid eyes on the sleek black Impala in the corner of the parking lot. Dean’s baby. Home. He went over and ran a hand along the side. She was just as beautiful as when he’d last seen her, the night Dean drove him to the bus stop to send him off to Stanford. “She still work?”
“Yeah." Benny held up the keys. "Dean said not to give you these until you promised to go to Bobby Singer and get him to teach you how to look after her properly.”
Sam teared up, and he threw his arms around Benny. “Thank you for not giving up. This car… this means so much to me.” He took the keys as he pulled away and unlocked the front door.
“There’s some other stuff inside. I think Dean knew he wasn’t long for the world, or maybe he set this up every time he went into a particularly dangerous situation. But there’s a letter for you and some other things.” Benny started heading into the bar.
“Wait." Sam got back out of the Impala. "If you drove the Impala here, how are you getting around now?”
Benny shrugged. “Walk to the motel tonight, go buy or steal a used car tomorrow.”
Sam bit his lip. “This is gonna sound crazy, but… Dean was right all along. I belong out there, hunting. But I can’t do it alone. I’d drive myself crazy on the long drives, the downtime. I’m gonna be rusty as hell, but if you don’t mind knocking off the rust…”
“Dean always said you could’ve been way better than him, if you didn’t hate the life so much." Benny came back over. "You sure you wanna do this? You’re out. Most hunters’d give their left arm for what you got.”
“Most hunters got into this as adults. This was my life. From the time I was a baby. I got out, I lived the dream, and now it’s time for me to get back to what I do best. Too late to do it with Dean like I should’ve, but you were a good enough friend to him that he trusted you with the Impala.”
“He told me all these stories about his little brother Sammy. He missed you so much. I, uh…” Benny leaned against the car. “You got the right to know, I guess, if you’re offerin’ to ride with me. The stories from Dean, what I learned tryin’ to track you down… I kinda developed a bit of a crush on you.”
“Yeah?” Sam looked Benny over. “Sounds like a good thing. As long as you remember Dean was telling you only the good parts. Probably didn’t tell you what a whiny bitch I am when I’m sick.”
“Read your letter. I’ll be inside gettin’ a drink. When you’ve had a chance to think about it, if you still wanna run away with me… say the word, we’ll find a way to make it work.”
Dean’s letter was mostly explanations, apologies. When John went missing, Dean’s first instinct was to come get Sam, but he couldn’t make himself do it. Either he’d find Dad right away and he wouldn’t need Sam’s help, or it would be a long journey that would ruin Sam’s new life.
I’m about to get on a plane to stop a damn demon from crashing it. Crazy, huh? I’ve been afraid of flying all my life, so I got a bad feeling about this. I’m leaving everything important with Jerry and instructions to call my pal Benny if I don’t make it back.
Sammy, I wish you were here. You’d make fun of me forever for being afraid of planes, but I would put up with that gladly if it meant having you where I wish you belonged. You’d love Benny. I mean it – you should keep in contact with Benny, if you don’t mind occasionally calling a hunter. He’s an awesome guy, exactly the kind of guy you’d love if you give him a chance.
Sam folded the letter back up and turned to look at the box in the back seat. As soon as he opened it, the tears overflowed. Dean had left the amulet right on top. There was a note. “Hate to leave it, but wanted to be sure it got back to you if something happened.” Sam slipped the cord over his head and went inside.
“Well? What’s the call?” Benny asked when Sam took a seat at his table.
“You know why you’re the one who was told to find me, instead of Bobby or someone who actually knew me and had some ideas where I might go?”
“Been wonderin’ that for four years, actually. Not like your brother to be sloppy.”
“No, but it is just like him to find a way to look after me one last time. You came with a glowing recommendation and Dean’s approval.”
Benny chuckled. “Playin’ matchmaker from beyond the grave, huh? Sounds like Dean.”
“You got any other reason to be in town?”
“Nope. Came here to find you. You were my hunt.”
“Then let’s run. Tonight.”
Benny finished off his beer and dropped some money on the table. “Let’s go.”
It felt wrong, at first. Sitting in the driver’s seat of the Impala, Benny to his right, instead of sitting in the passenger seat with Dean to his left. But when he turned on the car and “Forever Young” blared from the radio, and Benny shrugged and pulled out the box of cassettes, it felt right, too.