:: rp samples - dean winchester ::
WHO: Dean Winchester, Sarah Williams
WHERE: streets of L.A. near the beach, then an internet café
WHEN: July 24th, lunchtime
SUMMARY: Dean arrives and Sarah is a good samaritan. Completed log.
RATING: PG-13 for language


It was incredibly simple and yet impossible at once. One minute Dean Winchester was in hell and the next he was sitting on a bench near a street of some city in the clothes he had died in. He instinctively jumped to his feet, eyes narrowing as he expected to find the catch somewhere. He felt fine. Not fine except for this and that, not fine for someone who had just gotten out of hell, but great. His memories were still there, he could still remember what it had felt like to see that tortured look on Sammy’s face, he could still hear the snarling gnashing of the hellhounds’ teeth, but somehow there was no more pain. He felt normal.

Slowly, tentatively, Dean began to walk forward. It was as if with each step, Dean got a step closer to getting himself back. Hell, heaven or purgatory, this place was certainly a lot better than the place he had just been.

Maybe Sam was able to pull out a last minute miracle after all…

Pride and satisfaction filling him, Dean felt lighter than he had in over a year. He had gone through hell and back, his deal had been fulfilled, and if he was back then Sammy had been successful. Maybe he’d lay off of Sam for sticking his geeky nose in the books all the time…or maybe not. Still, whatever the case, he was alive and well and, judging by the gorgeous brunette he saw a short distance ahead, in a place far more like heaven than hell. Walking up to her, he only barely resisted the urge to use a tried and true pick up line—he had to find Sam and his car, after all. He was likely not too far from the town where Lilith let the hellhounds loose on him, though Dean couldn’t remember the name of it after all that had happened.

“Excuse me,” he said, his voice low and his mouth twisted into that typical cocky grin. “I’m looking for someone, and I’m…a bit new in town. Can you help me?” Somehow, Dean Winchester managed to turn the act of asking for a favor into more of a promise, a hint of what else he might give to her if she agreed with just a raised eyebrow and a small turn of his head. Yes, Dean was a natural at flirting, and even hell couldn’t change that.

Out running a few errands, Sarah's back was turned to the beach when the man arrived out of thin air. Not that, had she seen it, it would have been unsettling at all. That was pretty normal, as far as Los Angeles went and it wouldn't be the first person she'd seen arrive out of the blue, by themselves or with their space ships. When she caught the approach in her peripheral vision, she turned fully, eyebrow lifting in return at the appraisal she was receiving.

Still, the question was polite enough, and as always she was willing to lend a hand. She would have appreciated the same in another's place, especially having been in that place once.

"Sure. This is a big city, but I'm happy to help." She leaned back against one of barriers separating parts of the beach from the sidewalk and street running along it. "How new are you?"

She purposefully choose 'city' over 'L.A.' because it was possible he was a new arrival. He didn't look nearly disoriented enough for this place to have been a completely abrupt transition, but she'd rather be safe than sorry if it turned out Los Angeles was something he'd never heard of before.

Dean’s grin only widened when she offered him her assistance. Torn between asking her to take him back to her place for some specialized comforting and the more practical idea of finding Sam, the later only barely won out. Repressing the urge to groan as he congratulated himself for his restraint, he gave her a somewhat sheepish look. “You might think this is crazy, but I have no idea what ‘this city’ is,” he shrugged, looking around in the hopes of finding some last minute clues as to where he was and came up empty. “I’m just looking for my pain in the ass little brother, who has my car.” His mouth hung open for a moment as he intended to say something witty about finding the college boy and getting the hell out of Dodge, but he resisted.

You know, Sam, we are allowed to have fun once in a while. He glanced back at the brunette. That’s fun.

Smirking as he remembered his own words of wisdom, he shut his mouth quickly. He had to find Sam, certainly, but if he and his brother stayed in this city for a night or two, to recover, mind you, it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.

"Not crazy in the least," Sarah said, shaking her head with a laugh. If he thought that his arrival was crazy, she knew the rest of the information she could give him would be labeled pure insanity. Poor guy. The full measure of alternate timelines and fictional characters and scary things in the night was never really easy for those who weren't familiar with the fantastical or supernatural. "I take it you just found yourself here after being somewhere very different?" It wasn't question so much as verification, as she felt pretty certain that was the case, rather than him having some kind of amnesia.

She tilted her head in the direction of the city that stretched out before them. "You're in Los Angeles, and that's the most normal part about this situation." Then she held out her hand to him. "And I'm Sarah Williams, formerly of New York, until I ended up here a few months ago out of the blue."

Dean had heard of a lot stranger things than people unexpectedly going to another place, so Sarah’s brief explanation piqued his interest, not fear. He stuck out his hand, flashing her his most charming smile. “Dean Winchester, and the Sasquatch that I’m looking for is my brother Sam. He’s about this tall…” Dean raised his hand to an outlandish height above his head. “And if he knows what’s good for him he’ll be driving a mint condition black 1967 Chevy Impala that’s mine.”

He glanced at her curiously to see if she understood just what sort of car it was that he owned, or if she had seen it around. Hopefully Sam hadn’t let his baby go through too much after his death. He’d have to freaking kill Sam if the Impala was dirty or scratched or full of Sam’s chick music.

Sarah usually wasn't rude or badly behaved with strangers, especially not ones she had stopped to lend a hand to, but the moment after she put the name 'Sam' with Dean's last name, her eyes narrowed.

"The pain in the ass little brother you're looking for is Sam Winchester?" she asked. It would figure the guy by that name that she had just chewed out a few days ago, and been thoroughly insulted by in return, would be the one Dean was looking for, thus the person she had just committed to helping him find. Fantastic.

Yes, she definitely wasn't thinking about the location of his car.

Dean smiled affectionately, completely missing any clues Sarah might have given off that Sam Winchester wasn’t her favorite of persons. After all, he had just come back from hell, he was in a strange place that likely held another ‘case’ for him and his brother, he could be forgiven for being self-centered for a moment. All that was on his mind at the moment was the pretty girl, getting his brother and car back, and perhaps solving the mystery of people randomly showing up here..not the fact that someone could actually be angry at Sammy.

“He’s a geeky college boy, but every family needs a black sheep,” He said, grinning at her. “So, Sarah, care to show me around?” Perhaps in the process he’d stumble over the geeky college boy himself, maybe Miss Gorgeous Brunette knew where all the nerds in this place hung out. He took a second glance at her and then shook his head. Who was he kidding, she wouldn’t have any idea.

Trying another tactic, he lowered his voice to its most coaxing tone. “I worry about the kid, you know. He’s got a habit of stumbling into trouble.”

At that, Sarah's eyebrows both rose, melting the narrow-eyed expression but replacing it with a mild disbelief at the vast understatement that covered a greater source of it beneath the surface. "Head long, you could say," she said, folding her arms across her chest. She didn't say more about it, however, as even if she was still smarting from the encounter, she wasn't going to lead with 'Things Sam Winchester Did Lately' for his recently arrived brother. She wasn't that mean by half.

"There's a internet cafe just under two blocks away," she said, nodding in the direction of the closest street leading off from the oceanfront. "Go there, get on the message boards and you'll find him soon after you post. Believe me, he's around."

All right, so perhaps she wasn't completely over the entire thing.

Ouch. Dean might be pretty dense in the wake of his resurrection, but even he could see that there were some pretty hard feelings there? Ah, he thought with a wry smile, feels like home. Sammy’s pissing off the hot chicks and I’m left to do damage control. It was too bad that Dean really didn’t know what all of this technology she was talking about was used for. He could use the internet to do simple hunting for their jobs, but not much more than that. He still was trying to live down the fact that he thought Myspace was some sort of porn site.

“What are you trying to tell me?” He asked suspiciously, raising an eyebrow at her. “When you say Sammy’s been around, because if we’re talking about the same guy, Sam couldn’t get lucky on his luckiest day.” How well he knew that…damned Bela.

Sarah couldn't help it. She snorted. "I don't have any idea about your brother's personal life," she said with a roll of her eyes. The expression held for a moment and then slipped away as she sighed softly. It certainly wasn't Dean's fault she'd felt compelled to defend Trance and give Sam Winchester a few home truths in the process, nor was it his fault the words had fallen on deaf ears – or, in this case, blind eyes.

"I'm sorry, I'm probably not coming off very welcoming, considering you just arrived here." She considered her words before continuing. "He threatened a friend, I wasn't okay with that or where his black and white philosophies will lead him in this city and told him so."

Awww, damn it Sam…

“Have you seen him?” Dean asked carefully, his entire posture changing. Gone was the playful, flirting tone, and in its place was something tense and full of worry. They had the tattoos for a reason, so that they wouldn’t be possessed by fugly demons. It was impossible, but unless this girl liked to play with things better left dead, then Sam threatening her friend only meant one thing.

“Were his eyes…normal, did he act abnormally?” He coughed, swallowing the rest of his questions hurriedly. No use in her sending him straight to the nut house after he had just escaped from hell. “I’m just worried about him, that’s all.” The worry came through naturally, making him sound like a concerned older brother. “It’s not like Sam to do things like that.”

It was the posture change that spoke to Sarah more than his cut off questions, as well as the understanding that Sam Winchester didn't get his opinions of demons out of thin air. Not that she knew the younger brother's whole story, as her willingness to listen hadn't come to any fruition, except to form hurt feelings in addition to her worry for Trance, but she could tell concern when she saw it and she also wasn't stupid – Dean was asking about things that weren't exactly 'bad attitude' signs.

She cast a look around her and then stepped closer to avoid any passerby getting an earful. Not everyone in Los Angeles knew what was going on in this city, after all, and even if it was all real, she didn't need the funny looks.

"You're asking me if he was possessed," she said quietly and shook her head. "No, he wasn't. We had a difference of agreement, not me and someone along for the ride." That said, she studied him for a reaction, as her scoreboard of correct judgments wasn't exactly flawless.

Dean let out a slow breath of relief. Oh, so she and Sam had just had an argument for the sake of arguing. Well, that wasn’t entirely unlike Sam when you figured in the huge explosive fights he used to get into with their father, and, besides, if Sam was intent on turning all the hot chicks in this city against himself, that still didn’t stop Dean from enjoying them.

“Thank you,” He said gratefully, his smile and relaxed stance returning. He tried to remember what it was she had suggested to do to find Sam before, and failed. “Now what was it you said that I could do to hunt him down, go on some internet board and look for things he’s been writing?”

The expression on his face when discussing the message board would have been almost comical to Sarah if his intent hadn't been distinctly unfunny in terms of 'bad' ideas. "Not exactly," she said carefully. Great, if she let him go wander now, the poor guy would likely find out what had just gone on with his brother before he even found Sam Winchester. Talk about a welcome to Los Angeles. "You should definitely post something new and let him respond to that first." Looking around would be very bad when he hadn't had things explained to him yet, even if it seemed he'd likely take the rest a little better.

She debated a moment and then swallowed a sigh. "Come on, I'll take you there, get you set up. Have you ever used a message board before?"

Dean swallowed, remembering the one time he had gone onto the message board of bustyasianbeauties.com to find out if the platinum membership package was available as a gift. It had been close to Sam’s birthday, after all, and Dean wanted something that would embarrass the hell out of him, but the idiots on the site had only made fun of him. Definitely not something to be telling the pretty, helpful brunette. “Erm…no…” He said awkwardly, running a hand through his hair. “Sammy, he was always enough of a techno nerd for the both of us."

He stepped closer to her still, reasoning that if they were going to be walking around in a strange unfamiliar city, he owed it to her to be near her in case something dangerous happened. “You should let me take you out to dinner sometime,” He said smoothly, gracing her with a lopsided smile as he tried to change the subject to something he was a bit more comfortable with. “To let me thank you for how helpful you’ve been. I might even bring a signed apology from my idiot brother as well to sweeten the deal.”

"You're sweet, but I doubt this dinner offer you have in mind would include my boyfriend," Sarah said, tossing him a knowing look as she adjusted her bag and prepared to cross the street. She wasn't really looking for an arm-wrestled apology from Sam Winchester either, as that meant admitting her feelings had been that hurt and that his patronizing air had gotten to her just as much, though in a different way, as what Trance had originally told her had happened.

"I'll get you set up, help you find Sam and you can consider it part of the no-strings-attached welcome committee," she said as they crossed and headed down the street the internet cafe was on. She didn't really mind, especially if he wasn't familiar with using things like that. "Before you get another surprise – what was the year, when you left where you were last?"

No strings attached, now there was the sort of deal that might work…but somehow Dean had the idea that a girl like Sarah Williams wouldn’t go for it. He shrugged, accepting the offer for what it was and deciding that he would find Miss Williams again in the future to see if anything had changed there.

“It was 2008,” He said, thinking back to the last and best year of his life. He could still remember it all, from the oil and candy bar that Sam gave him for their first real Christmas in years and the shaving cream and skin mags Dean gave him in return. He remembered that damned rabbit’s foot that nearly got them both killed, and the phone call he had been so convinced was from his father. Dean remembered teaching Sam how to take care of his baby, because he would need to know when the deal came due. He remembered it all, the good, the bad, the sad…

He forced his attention back to the pretty girl. “What are you going to tell me next, it’s like back to the future around here? I always hated that show anyway, and that pansy ass Delorean.” Of course, Dean was a bit biased, owning the best car imaginable. Nothing could compare to a classic Impala.

Sarah grinned at him, as it was becoming clear he had a very definite opinion on cars and she felt safe in guessing that the opinion went something along the lines of his car being greater than every other car out there. But he'd seemed to take his arrival in Los Angeles with a decent amount of grace, so she didn't soften the revelation.

"Sort of," she said, navigating around a group of people coming the opposite way down the sidewalk. "It's July 2005 right now. And again, not the strangest part, at least for most."

Dean’s mind went quickly to do the math, and he sighed in relief. In 2005 their father had been alive, in 2005 Sam had never been stabbed. In 2005 Sam was just another average kid at Stanford studying law with his girlfriend.

“I need to find him.” he asked tensely, not navigating the group of people nearly so well as she had in his haste. “We should probably hurry.”

Suddenly it mattered a great deal if the Sam here was his Sam or just another version of him. The dijin had offered him that once, in his ‘perfect’ timeline. He had offered everything but a Sam who was his brother, his best friend. Another Sam could never be his brother, never know half the stuff that they had went through together, half of the things they had done for one another. “Where the hell is this internet place, anyway, halfway across the country?”

Impatient, wasn't he? Sarah supposed she couldn't blame him, just knowing there was someone he knew in this city likely made his arrival easier. In his place, she'd be eager to find her brother, with or without knowing all that was going on here. It seemed he did, somewhat, given his worries about Sam.

"Less than a block. If you want to run, go ahead," she said, slanting him another glance, this time amused, "but I'm not going to do the same, not in this weather." Earlier in the day, sure, but not during the hours Los Angeles was hot enough that even summer clothes were suffocating at times.

Though he was sorely tempted to run, the thought of passing up the internet booth or coffee shop—café, he remembered, smirking at the sissy sort of word that Sam would use—and having to wait longer as he turned around kept him impatiently at her side. He still walked a good step or two ahead of her, trusting that she would tell him if they were getting near it or if he was in any danger of passing it up. Dean hated the heat as much as anyone, but he wasn’t going to let a little sun keep him from finding the truth about Sam and this place. Maybe Sam would even be at the café, he did have a tendency to hang out in nerdy places. Wherever he was, Sam would be here, not on a break from Stanford. He had to be.

“This brother of mine, have you actually seen him before? Did he look like a college kid to you? Was he with anyone, maybe a grizzly looking redneck by the name of Bobby?” If Sam was with Bobby, if he looked like hell, then he was probably HIS Sam, but if he looked like Mr. Ivy League 2.5 Kids with a house in the suburbs, he was probably not. Damn it, could she go any slower?

"In person, no," Sarah said, shaking her head before she considered his questions. "And the other guy you're describing doesn't seem familiar. The message boards use images, though, so I have seen your brother, and I'd say he looks a bit older than typical college age? Around my age, I'd guess, so 25, 26?"

When they neared the café, she slowed, but as Dean was in such a rush, he continued on. Laughing, she reached out and snagged the back of his shirt before he got much further away. "Whoa, speedy, you walked right past it," she said, tilting her head toward the window of the café with the bright sign that indicated there was wifi and computers inside.

“Wifi?” Dean asked, a slightly sheepish look on his face from the way he had stormed ahead without even noticing the café. “What the hell is that?” Deciding that it was some form of technology mumbo-jumbo, he shrugged, holding open the door for her. He could be a gentleman on occasion, and he did appreciate what she was doing for him. The sooner he found his brother the better, even hearing that Sam sounded a lot like HIS Sam put him more at ease.

Walking toward the first available computer he saw, he sat down, staring blankly at the screen. He knew how to work Sam’s computer to do basic things, but this one looked completely different. Taking a guess, he clicked on the little blue ‘e’ to pull up the internet, and looked to Sarah for help as to what to do next

"Wireless internet, so people can use their own laptops in here," Sarah tossed over her shoulder as she moved inside. When Dean moved to a computer, she took out her wallet, paying the woman at the counter before walking in the same direction. Pulling up a chair to his station she sat and then leaned in, navigating quickly to the message board the residents of Los Angeles so often used for everything from answers to the inane.

"Pretty much every new arrival has an account on here," she explained quietly, pulling up the registration page. "It's where the people in this city – the ones who have no idea about the higher powers pulling people here, that is – send the arrivals to learn that most of us have no idea why we're here, as well as learn about all the things some people might call crazy – vampires, demons, people who are considered fictional in some realities."

That said, she sat back. "Go ahead and register – name and password, it'll provide you with an email as a new user," she said, then covered her eyes with a hand. "There, I won't peek."

Dean was shocked to see Sarah go and pay someone, as he had assumed that the person at the counter was there strictly to monitor things and ensure they didn’t get out of hand. He couldn’t believe you actually had to fork over money in order to geek up your time. Not that Dean’s money was earned the old fashioned way, but he still didn’t want to waste it.

He listened carefully to her explanation, then typed in his username and password (The same thing he used for everything from his pin number on all the fake credit cards to his voicemail code) and looked at her expectantly. He didn’t like admitting when he didn’t know what the hell he was doing, but when it came to this sort of thing he had no choice but to admit that he didn’t know anything. Finding Sam depended on it.

When the sound of keys being pressed had stopped, Sarah uncovered her eyes and smiled, gesturing to the screen. "Now, we let L.A. know you've arrived, hopefully your brother sees it soon," she said, taking the mouse again to get him to the compose screen. "Type your message and hit post – best to just start with a public one." It was the easiest to instruct him on without risking more of that impatience from before. Filters could come once he needed them.

Dean scowled at the screen for a moment before deciding what he wanted to say, then typed the message in with a hint of decisiveness. Waiting was never his strong point, particularly when so much depended on what would happen next, but he really had no choice. Tapping his fingers impatiently on the desk he waited on someone to reply, and hoped beyond hope that that someone would be his little brother.


WHO: Dean Winchester, Ben Braeden
WHERE: the Winchester & co house
WHEN: Thursday, January 12, 2006; late evening
SUMMARY: Dean has 'The Talk' with Ben. Completed log.
RATING: PG, or A, for adorable


To be honest, Dean was glad that Ben didn't seem to want him to leave. When the kid started looking more tired than anything, Mary started trying to talk him into going to bed, and Dean, worried about him, did the same. However, when Ben started saying something silly about wanting to watch a good movie because there had been no good movies where Lilith had held the children, Dean knew something else was up. Camped out in Ben's room with some popcorn and soda and a well loved DVD of Batman Forever, Dean allowed himself to fully relax for the first time since Ben turned up missing. Ben was home and safe, and that was the big thing

Though nerves were threatening to get the better of him and make procrastination sound pretty damned good, as the credits rolled on the movie Dean knew it was time for THE TALK. Ben deserved to know, or so his father and Claire had said. He had beaten himself up a hundred times since the kid's disappearance, wondering why he didn't tell him just a little bit sooner, but it was easy to think about broaching such a difficult subject and another thing entirely to actually do it.

“Gotta love Jim Carrey as the Riddler, and Sugar and Spice? Mmmm... Genius.”

Come on, Winchester, stop putting this off...What's the worst thing that could happen?

Honestly? A lot. Dean knew he wasn't really a conventional sort of guy, and that never seemed like a big deal before, but he didn't know if he was the kind of guy a kid would even want for a dad. The hunting, the constant moving that he had done before he was stuck in one city, the credit card scams...none of it was really Dad of the Year material. Ben deserved a good dad after not having one for so long. And what if he was going to get the little guy all worked up for nothing, and they'd take the test and find out that some other random jerk in a bar had been Ben's dad and Lisa was telling the truth all along? What if Ben didn't want a dad at all?

Stop stalling. Stop thinking, just SAY it before you chicken out. You're not some thirteen year old girl.

“Hey Ben? Did you ever talk to your mom about your dad?” If Ben already thought that some other guy was his Dad, maybe he wouldn't want to take the test at all...and Dean didn't want to mess something like that up.

For once, Ben wasn't even playing at pretense of wanting to be near Dean, as he was happily slumped against Dean's side while they watched the move. He'd made excuses for Dean's not to go, excuses to stay awake, but right now wasn't a time for macho pretense.

The question, however, was unexpected. "Sometimes," he said, expression suddenly moody as he plucked at the bowl of popcorn. "When I was little and again after some kids hassled me." Well, that had happened more than once, until Dean had come along and taught him how to deal with bullies. A kick in the balls and people shut up about him not having a dad, about him being illegitimate or a bastard or a loser.

There'd only been one time that he had pressed the question and it was after he'd met Dean, because he'd gotten the idea one day that it would have been awesome if it was Dean that his mom meant, that guy that hadn't been around because he wasn't meant for the kind of life a kid should have. But she still hadn't been able to tell him much, even when he'd insisted.

"She always said she was sorry, that he wasn't a guy she knew much about, just that he seemed like a good person but he wasn't the kind of guy who stuck around."

The thought of someone picking on Ben just because he didn't have a Dad to run him to PTA events or something made Dean furious. It wasn't Ben's fault that his Mom fell for a certain kind of guy, it wasn't his fault that his Dad probably never even knew there had been a kid born out of a short bendy fling. If anyone ever said something about Ben's parentage to Dean Winchester's face, there would be hell to pay, but Dean knew full well that most bullies picked on people who were smaller than they were, or otherwise unable to defend themselves, not anyone who really had a chance.

"There's not a guy around who wouldn't stick around if a cool kid like you was involved." Dean said honestly, and he meant it. When he first met Ben, he had been living on a few months of borrowed time, he had been desperately looking for a way not to go to hell...he didn't have time for kids, and yet, if Lisa had so much as hinted that Ben was his kid, Dean would have stopped fighting so hard to stay alive. He would have spent time with the kid, taught him everything he knew. He damned sure wouldn't have left.

Pulling back just slightly, to put the bowl of popcorn on the table and face Ben without any obstacles in their way, Dean cleared his throat. "You know when I went back to visit your Mom, I hadn't seen her in years, right? I didn't even know she had a kid. I thought...when I saw you I thought you were a really cool kid. You remind me..and everyone, of me when I was your age."

He had changed his mind at the last moment. He was about to tell Ben that he asked Lisa at first, on that first day, about being Ben's father, but the last thing he wanted was to get the kid pissed at his Mom. If this worked out...well maybe later they'd talk about that...and maybe not.

Without the popcorn to fiddle with, Ben was left with either just playing with his fingers, which he knew would give away that this wasn't a fun topic for him, or looking up at Dean, looking like he could handle talking about it. He chose the latter, and was surprised by what he heard. There was, for a moment, that brief pang of wanting the details to fit - his mom had said his dad didn't even know about him, and Dean admitted he hadn't known about him - but he pushed it away. He was used to it.

And then Dean mentioned that Ben reminded people of Dean and suddenly Dean had Ben's full attention.

"Really?" The tilt of his head, the expression that bloomed and then was hastily, but ineffectively, reigned in was one of pleasure, of hearing that people thought he was like Dean.

Dean nodded, feeling a little bit of hope spreading out when Ben looked so pleased a the comparison. "It's not necessarily a good thing." Dean said, his trademarked teasing tone doing nothing to hide the fact that Dean clearly thought it was a great thing. "I'm not sure that the restaurants of LA are really prepared to deal with two of us, but I think it's pretty cool."

Forcing a serious look to come back to his face, because he knew they needed to talk about this rather than get into some sort of eating contest that would make his parents bang their heads against the wall when he told them about it later, Dean cleared his throat. "You know, a few of them even started thinking there might be something going on, a reason why we're so much alike."

Here was the hard part, actually voicing what he had been hoping for so badly. "Ben, Dad and I were talking, and we think there's a chance that you might be my son."

At the remark about food, Ben opened his mouth to say something smart in return, but closed it again at the serious look. Dean thought it was cool, so this couldn't be a bad talk, could it? But serious, in his experience, was often not good.

Shifting on the bed to get a better look at Dean, Ben listened intently as Dean spoke. He continued to listen intently even after Dean finished speaking. In fact, the same exact expression remained on Ben Braeden's face because he was in shock.

There's a chance you might be my son. Maybe he'd heard Dean wrong. Maybe he'd heard something he wanted to hear, like a crazy person. Isn't that was happened to people when the were kidnapped, sometimes? They went crazy?

His mom had never said Dean was, but she hadn't exactly said he wasn't in a way Ben had one hundred percent accepted. It was the face she made when she said something because she was supposed to, not because she wanted to, like how she always said she loved playing bridge with Mrs Hendersen next door but Ben knew she didn't really like card games at all, especially with grandma types. Like, not cool grandma types who wore jeans and baked chocolate chip cookies, but the stupid lacy knitted table things, oatmeal cookies and ten cats grandma types.

Had his mom lied?

Dean waited for a reaction. He waited for anger at Dean waiting so long to investigate the similarities, he waited for sadness at being without a dad for so long, he waited for joy or rejection or something, anything to tell him how Ben was taking this...but he got nothing. The poor kid's face was almost frozen.

"Hey?" He said, voice soft and concerned. Was this too soon? This was definitely too soon. Maybe he should have given Ben a few days to get over the whole kidnapping thing? Maybe Ben wouldn't even want to take the test? What if this was a mistake? "You gotta say something soon, dude, or I'm gonna tell Dad you've frozen in one place and we're gonna have to research a way to get you moving again."

At another time, that would have been enough to shake Ben out of his reverie with a laugh and a retort, but this? This was big. Huge. Bigger than huge. Huger than bigger than huge!

"You think you're my dad? Really?" The note of hope was unmistakable but the expression on his face likely hard to define, a cross between a hunger for something he'd never had and disbelief that the words said were meant how they sounded.

It was too soon in the revelation for the questions, the struggling through past upsets at not having had a dad there, questioning further the idea his mom hadn't told the truth, and all the rest. Right now, it was just letting that idea, that there was a chance Dean could be his dad, sink in to his brain.

The sinking was taking some time.

Dean nodded, his eyes fixed on Ben as he tried to decipher Ben's expression. Was he happy?

"I knew you and I were a lot alike, but I never really thought there was a real chance until Dad said so. It doesn't have to change anything if you don't want it to, Ben. No one is going to make us take the test if you don't want to, and no matter what, you're still gonna stay here with us and be one hell of a cool kid." His hand wasn't that steady as he reached out to squeeze Ben's shoulder. "You can do whatever you want with this, Ben, I just wanted you to know."

Ben looked from Dean's hand on his shoulder to Dean's face, then back to the hand, then to Dean again. After nine years, he might have a dad. There was a chance he had a dad, and a better on than the one he'd always wished for - and there had been wishing. Imagining what the man would be like, imagining him showing up not knowing he had a son and then wanting to stay once he knew, wishing to be able to do all the stuff his mom tried to make up for but wasn't the same as doing it with a dad.

The kind of stuff he already did with Dean.

For a moment, he shook a bit, like a puppy ready to burst because it couldn't decide whether to run for the ball rolling away to the left or the dish being set down on the right and then he slammed into Dean's chest face first, arms wrapping around Dean's torso.

He wasn't going to cry. He wasn't that much of a girl. Really. He wasn't. It was just popcorn salt in his eye. Really.

And just like that things seemed like they finally made sense again. Ben was hugging him hard and it felt natural to close his arms around the boy and return the gesture. God how he wanted to be right about this, to have Ben turn out to be his.

"We both know I'm not really good at the technical stuff." He said with a small squeeze of his arms. "I could be wrong about this, Ben." The last thing Dean wanted was to get the boy's hopes up for nothing. "But even if I'm wrong, I'm still gonna be here." It was flirting dangerously close to a chick flick moment to talk about stuff like this to begin with, and he doubted that Lisa would be impressed with him taking stuff in his own hands, but now that Dean had started talking, he couldn't stop.

"No matter what, I want you to remember I still want to be your dad, ok?" Because at the end of the day, there was a huge difference between thinking you were a parent and wanting to be one.

Even if it made sense that this was a maybe, not a definite, Ben didn't want to hear it. In fact, he didn't really hear it. It was hard to hear the counter sides to the idea that Dean could be his dad.

Of course, hearing about wanting this intensified that. It negated the need to ask one of the first still-restrained questions - what if he wasn't - because Dean had answered it.

"You want to be my dad?"

Aware he was repeating pretty much everything Dean had been saying, Ben sat back up - not letting go of Dean entirely, because he didn't want to, just attempting to reassert some tough kid behaviour into this - and looked up at Dean.

"Can we go do it tomorrow, the test?" The eagerness was all too clear, but his posture shifted slightly then, affecting that lazy 'too cool for this' look that he wore naturally, that he perfected by watching Dean. "I mean, since it's gonna be the weekend the next day, it'd be stupid to not do it tomorrow."

Dean couldn't stop a wide, ear to ear grin from coming to his face. Not only did Ben seem to like the idea that he might be Dean's son, he wanted to take the test right away. Truth be told, Dean had been pretty eager to take it too, to know one way or the other what he was dealing with so they could go from there. Either way, as far as he was concerned, Ben was his responsibility now.

"Yeah, of course we can take the test tomorrow." Dean said, leaning over to ruffle Ben's hair. "It will take a week or two to get the results back and everything, but they just moved the new King Kong movie to the dollar movies and they have better popcorn than the regular movie place. We could go and take the test and then go to the movie."

After all, they'd likely both need the distraction, and Dean wanted to make it clear that they'd still do stuff, no matter what the silly test said.

Grinning back at Dean, because he couldn't resist, Ben didn't squirm too far away from the hair ruffling, just enough for dignity's sake. The grin, however, didn't last long, because the time to wait felt, even to a nine year old, who was growing out of the age when short times seemed like an eternity, far too long.

"A week or two?" he asked, crestfallen as he slumped. "Science sucks."

He wanted to go now, have the test and know now. He didn't want to wait to be able to tell people he had a dad. The test would have to say that. It would just have to.

Dean smiled sadly, torn between being unhappy that he couldn't magically produce the results himself, and being elated that Ben wanted to know as much as he did.

"Yeah, it does," he said, trying to think of something that could make the moment light again instead of something that would lead to weeks of anxious waiting. After all, this was a good thing. Ben was home and safe, and they both wanted this. He could tell that Ben already wanted this a lot, and that he had his heart set on it, so Dean didn't bring up the other things he had been thinking about, like adoption, to make sure that the boy was legally his in case he got separated from the Winchesters again. He'd bring that up if he had to, but for now they'd just be happy and take this slow.

"So where do you want to eat tomorrow? We can go anywhere you want."

This close to finally having a dad and now he had to wait. Dropping back against Dean's side, the action sulky but his expression lightening a bit with the talk of food, Ben sighed. He'd just had to stay really busy for now.

"That place near Claire's house," he said after some consideration, "the one with the awesome burgers and the fifteen kinds of pie every day." Not that Ben didn't like cake and cookies and everything almost as much, but he knew Dean definitely loved pie, so it was a good choice.

After a moment, he slid a glance sideways at Dean, hesitant. "Hey, Dean?"

Dean had never been particularly patient for something that he wanted, so acting like he was cool with this was hard, but he had to be the grown up and show Ben that they could make it through a week or two of not knowing. He sat there, trying to think about something about the diner that Ben had mentioned to cheer the kid up when Ben spoke again.

"Hmm?" he questioned, hearing the hesitant tone to Ben's voice and a little concerned again. "What is it, Mini Me?"

Mini Me. There was something about that that wasn't ridiculous and instead, made Ben feel a bit better about all of this. The test would take way too long, but Dean wanted him in his life. He seemed to like that they were the same, he said he wanted to be his Dad. There were still questions about the past, the whys and hows, but even that eased those for now. He was wanted, by Dean at least.

Still there was the hesitation, because the question he wanted to ask was an important one. Crucial. Something he'd never gotten to do and wanted to so bad.

"After all this, do I get to call you Dad?" he asked, then bit his lip. He wanted to say something cool, to take the weight off the question, but for once it just wouldn't come.

The way that Ben phrased the question meant everything to his potential father. Dean had been prepared for a great many things, a 'Do I have to call you Dad,' or 'Am I supposed to call you Dad,' but 'Do I get to call you Dad,' felt very different. It was like the kid was asking for a present, and the hesitancy that Ben had used when beginning the question, the way he was biting his bottom lip, cut straight to Dean's heart. After all, Dean and Sam had missed out on a lot of things growing up, having a mom, a normal childhood, but one thing that Dean had never doubted was that he had a dad who loved him and would do anything in the world necessary to keep him and Sammy safe.

"Yeah," He said, voice rough. Reaching out, he pulled Ben close into a hug, not caring if the gesture was straight out a chick flick because the lump in his throat was chick flicky too. "Of course you can, Ben."

It felt like he waited forever for Dean's answer, the seconds to process and respond moving so slowly, but finally Ben heard him and was then enveloped in another hug, this one initiated by Dean. Somehow, that made the words even better. He could call Dean 'Dad' if everything played out right.

Dad. He'd save it for when they knew, hold tight to that word until he could say it and know without a doubt it was true, and then he'd shout it to the world and not care if it made him look uncool. He'd have a Dad, cool wasn't even a consideration for that moment.