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When they had first found the bunker it had felt cavernously large. Never-ending corridors and rooms when at most there was 3 of them staying there. At times Dean had even felt unsafe in its expansiveness because the larger a place was the less defensible it was.
But since being rescued from Michael, the bunker had felt cramped. For months he had been smothered in his own body, unable to breathe and now in his home he felt like he couldn’t move a finger without catching the attention of a dozen strangers. He may have gotten his body back but with people watching his every move he still felt like a prisoner.
The increase of people living in the bunker meant there were differences beyond the obvious extra bodies. In his absence someone had taken it upon themselves to move his kitchen cupboards around. The Dean Cave had been shifted to accommodate a larger number of people. It was hard to find a time of the day when he got the bathroom to himself and there was just constant low-level of noise filtering throughout the entire place indicating a bustling operation, instead of the quiet refuge from the world that it was to him. At a time when Dean was struggling to get back to normal in himself, having familiar surroundings being slightly different was grating on his nerves.
So when there wasn’t a familiar face around to lure him out Dean started to stick to his room while he reacclimatised to being in control of himself. It was there that Sam cornered him one day while Dean was watching a movie.
The door opened without even a knock for politeness and Dean tensed from his position laying on the bed, before looking up and relaxing, it was only Sam’s usual lack of manners, not anyone unwelcome, he turned his attention back to the screen where a gun fight played out on a dusty street knowing that Sam would speak when he wanted to.
As the minutes passed, he could feel Sam’s impatience grow as nothing was said and Dean internally smirked. It might have been immature of him to enjoy it but Dean felt it was on Sam to bring up whatever he had come in for. Finally the air shifted as Sam geared up to talk about whatever had brought him into Dean’s room.
“You’ve been hiding out in here a lot. Everything ok?”
Dean raised an eyebrow, but didn’t look away from the screen, where the remnants of the gang made their escape on horseback.
“Yep. Just taking some time, getting used to feeling like myself again you know.”
“You shouldn’t be locked up in here so much. You should move around and be seen.”
Trust Sam to be able to name the problem but at the same time get it completely ass-backwards. That there were people to be seen by was entirely the problem. Dean would have to set him straight because the kid could be like a dog with a bone.
“I would, but Cas and Jack are gone a lot and you’re busy with your groupies… and with all the changes that have happened around here I’m not comfortable out there without a buffer… sometimes even with a buffer its hard.”
“Changes? What, you can’t deal with a few extra people around the place? Come on Dean, the bunker is basically still the same as it has always been. Ok you’ve been through something horrible, I’ve been there too remember, you’ve just got to push through. You won’t deal with anything hiding in your room like a teenager.”
Dean remembered Sam’s possessions all too well, particularly the first one. The one that had required Sam to have a wall built in his mind and the problems Sam had faced when that wall had failed. He remembered that “pushing through” hadn’t worked then, but he doubted Sam would ever admit to it.
“Sam, I’m already feeling off kilter at the moment. Every time I stumble across something that’s almost but not quite the same as it was before I have a split second of worry that I’m trapped in another one of Michael’s worlds. At least in here everything is familiar so this is where I stay.”
He thought longingly about being able to roam the peaceful hallways of the bunker again and couldn’t wait until Sam’s little group dispersed to wherever it was going to be that they settled. He would never begrudge someone a safe place to lay low for a while, especially a hunter. Dean had grown up without a permanent base and had hated it. Living out of cheap motels had never felt safe even when he was old enough to properly defend himself. Monsters weren’t the only reason he kept a gun under the pillow after all. But understanding a hunter’s way of life didn’t mean he wanted his home full of a cast of constantly rotating faces. He wanted the stability that he never got on the road. Given that Sam was acting like the circus was the new normal, Dean wasn’t sure his brother felt the same.
“Hey, how much longer are the Brady Bunch out there gonna be staying here anyway?”
“what? I don’t… What do you mean Dean?”
Wanting to be in a slightly more serious position, Dean sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. For the first time since Sam walked into his room, Dean stopped paying attention to the movie and instead looked at Sam fully.
“There are plans in place for your refugees to all to get their own places to live right?” He was worried this conversation was going to go exactly how he didn’t want it to.
“I just wanna know how much longer I’m going to feel uncomfortable and unwelcome in my own home. A couple of days? Weeks? I get that you’ve been busy trying to get me back but that’s done now. Its time for Summer Camp to come to an end.”
Sam’s forehead wrinkled as he stared at Dean, clearly trying to process what Dean thought was a basic concept. It was as if the idea of not living with a couple of dozen people in close proximity was an entirely new idea instead of something that was the usual only a couple of months ago.
“I’m going to ask you again Sam. What is the plan to get all your little buddies their own places to live?” To make things very clear Dean added, “Because they can’t live here permanently”
At that Sam drew up to his full height and he stared at Dean. “What do mean they can’t stay here? This place is huge and has great hunter facilities. It just makes sense for people to use this as their base.”
“Sam the bunker might be a hunter base to you but it is my home and right now I don’t feel like I can move an inch without being watched or judged by a bunch of strangers.”
Sam scoffed, “come on Dean its not that bad. You just haven’t taken the time to get to know them.”
Sometimes he wondered why Sam bothered asking Dean to open up to him when he never listened to what was said.
“I don’t need to get to know them, I need them to leave.”
Suddenly realising he’d left the door open, Sam strode over and closed it before hissing, “we brought them here Dean, we can’t just abandon them. They need our help.”
Dean rolled his eyes at the dramatics, “they literally survived an apocalyptic world where angels had killed everything Sam, I think they can handle Trump’s America.”
This had turned into a bigger deal that Dean would have thought. Was it really so bad and strange that Dean only wanted to share living space with his family? He would have thought Sam would have agreed to that given how particular he was about certain things (unfortunately not about cleaning though)
As he stared into Sam’s resolute and stubborn face, Dean found it amazing. He knew that kid through and through but sometimes he didn’t understand him at all. It was an unfortunate fact that their lives meant they were in life-and-death situations a lot and they had both done drastic things to save the other. At times Sam had even taken actions despite Dean telling him it wasn’t how he wanted to be saved. And now that he was asking for help apparently that wasn’t something to even be considered. Sam being the head of his little village was more important.
“I know this is going to make you angry when I remind you of it but it needs to be said. To save your life I asked Cas to leave the bunker when Gadreel demanded it – Cas! And you won’t even give this to me when I’ve told you them being here isn’t helping me to recover?” Dean shook his head in disbelief.
“I’m so glad to know where I rate in your priorities Sam. The mission comes first right? Even above family… Dad would be proud.”
He threw that barb out, knowing that it wouldn’t land the same as if Sam had said it to him. Somewhere after John’s death Sam had put on rose-tinted glasses to look at anything to do with their dad and never taken them off.
Not wanting to be placed so much lower than Sam Dean stood up and paced before tyring one more time, “is there anything I can say that will convince you to do this for me.”
Sam’s posture was ramrod straight, creating an imposing figure of defiance, “No. This is the right thing to do Dean. We have the resources for so many people, its selfish to keep it just for us. You’ll get used to it.”
Closing his eyes, Dean dropped his chin to his chest and shook his head, “no. No I won’t”
Tears gathered in the corner of his eye and he raised his head to make eye contact, swallowing before continuing, “I can’t stay here under these conditions. I won’t live in a place that’s no better than the motels we grew up in.”
He walked over to the door and opened it, “now if you could go please. I apparently have to start looking for a new place to live.”
Expecting more of a fight, Sam was stunned and his body dropped some of its tension, “don’t be stupid, you’re not moving out Dean.”
Dean gestured to the open door, “Get. Out.” His voice was stripped of all emotion.
Narrowing his eyes, Sam finally threw his hands up in a surrender motion, “fine. We’ll talk about this again when you’ve decided to be a grown up.”
He stomped out of the room and down the corridor and Dean locked the door behind him before sinking to the floor fighting tears. At almost every point in his life he had given everything for the well-being of his little brother and the one time he had asked for something for himself he’d been told no.
It hadn’t been an idle threat, Dean definitely couldn’t stay here now. Taking a deep breath his eyes tracked around the room. He was going to have to pack everything, but first he’d have to figure out a place to live and how to pay for it.
The warbling note of a harmonica rang out from his tv speakers. Dean watched as a character lay dying in the middle of the street, gunned down by someone who had once been his friend.
Yeah, I know how you feel buddy, he thought bitterly.