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mymoonagedaydream · 4 years

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Only the Good Die Young (Part 1)

Summary: Coming home from college for the summer, you expected your days to be spent reading in your bedroom and sitting through tense to family dinners- but an old acquaintance had something else in mind for you

Pairing: Biker!Bucky x y/n

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: Language, strong anti-religious sentiment throughout, harmful relationship with parents, irresponsible motorcycle healthy and safety measures, smoking

Author's Note: Something a bit different, why the hell not. This story is based around lyrics from Billy Joel's 'Only the Good Die Young'. What a man.

---

'Y/n! You look… healthy.'

Those were your mother's first words as you walked through the door of your family home. Not saying how pleased she was to see you or asking how your flight was, but commenting on how you looked with her typical passive-aggressive euphemisms.

This was going to be a long summer.

Initially you were adamant about staying at your dorm, even on your own. All you wanted was peace and space. Then your parents threatened to cut you off if you didn't come home, so here you were.

You traipsed upstairs. Approaching your bedroom, you saw the bolt haphazardly screwed to the outside of the door. Your father had installed it when you were twelve, after he caught you watching ‘ungodly’ TV shows in the living room at midnight- Doctor Who.

Your room had been redecorated. It looked fucking dreadful. You glanced up at the wall and a little bit of sick shot up to the back of your mouth when you saw a ‘live, laugh, love’ sticker plastered up there.

A long, long summer.

---

Your first errand was grocery shopping. Wandering around the store, you grabbed everything on the list and headed to the checkout. Through the front window you saw billows of smoke blowing past, but you couldn’t quite see where they were coming from.

As you stepped outside, you looked over to see a pretty big group of guys in leather jackets, most of them with cigarettes on the go. They were gathered around the corner of the building, the one you had to walk past to get home. You kept your head down, gripping your grocery bags tight and passing them as quickly as possible, when you heard one of them pipe up.

'Well holy shit. Y/n?'

You turned towards the voice. James Barnes.

The two of you went to high school together but, apart from the occasional stilted conversation and reluctant group project, you’d never really developed any sort of relationship. Besides, he always hung out with people your mother didn't approve of.

And he was what, now? In a motorcycle gang? Figures.

'Hi James. Good to see you.' You mumbled, breaking stride momentarily. His friends seemed to find that funny.

'People call me Bucky now.'

Nodding feebly, you gave him a polite smile before moving off again. You noticed that your face felt warm and your stomach was involuntarily tensing. Sure, he was much more handsome and charismatic than you remembered, but you had no idea why being in his presence was making you this nervous. You heard approaching footsteps and in a second he was by your side, walking next to you.

'You moving back to town?'

'No, just visiting for the summer.'

‘Are your parents still religious nut-jobs?'

You stopped and snapped your head round, in complete shock at the brazenness of his questioning.

'I'll take that as a yes.’ Without taking his eyes off you he pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, placed one between his lips and lit it. ‘Guessing you won't be having much fun this summer then.'

'Probably not your kind of fun.'

He smirked and stepped towards you. ‘Man, you Catholic girls start much too late.’

‘I don’t think I asked for your opinion, James.’ It came out much softer than you anticipated, barely a mumble. Not the kind of back-off-or-else warning you were aiming for. He was really getting under your skin.

'You didn’t, but I’ll give you another.’

You raised an eyebrow, watching him blow a cloud of smoke out over your head and chuckle at your expression. Against your better judgement, you waited for him to carry on.

‘I'd rather laugh with the sinners than cry with the saints.' He stepped closer again, bringing his lips close to your ear, and whispered. 'Cause the sinners are much more fun.'

---

You dropped the shopping on the counter. The whole way home you hadn’t been able to get James Barnes out of your head, hadn’t been able to stop picturing his smirk or imagining his warm breath tickling your ear.

You wanted to know more about him, and if anyone had information it'd be your mother. She knew everything about everyone in this godforsaken town. Sitting down for dinner, you seized your opportunity.

'I saw James Barnes at the grocery store today.'

She abruptly dropped her knife and it hit her plate with a sharp clang, making you jump.

'You stay away from that boy.' She punctuated the words by pointing her fork at you. 'He's trouble. Him and his gang.'

You hated the way she spoke to you sometimes, like you were a child. You were in your twenties for fuck’s sake.

'He seemed nice enough.'

‘That’s how it starts.’ Your father piped up. ‘Before you know it he’s got you hooked on drugs, living in a trailer, pregnant with his deviant child.’

And that was the end of that conversation.

Being away, you’d almost forgotten how messed up your parents were. It was terrifying to think that you used to be just as bad. They had you completely brainwashed before you left for college and, even now, some of their intrusive religious dogma still lingered in your subconscious.

---

Sunday. The priest was droning on about something but you weren’t concentrating, his dull voice just sounded like a janky old extractor fan whirring behind the altar. You stood, sat, stood, kneeled, sat along with everyone else like sheep being herded, singing and praying whenever prompted. This, every Sunday for ten weeks, was going to be torture.

An hour or so into the service, you felt yourself nodding off. Your shoulders relaxed and your head felt too heavy to be held up by your neck but, just as your eyes started to close, something startled you. Startled the whole congregation. The droning from the altar stopped and heads turned towards the door, where the disturbance was coming from.

It sounded like a shuddering motorbike engine. Then another joined. In a couple of seconds the entire church was filled with an echoing cacophony of backfiring engines.

Someone at the back stood up and ran to the door. There was some shouting and laughing, but the noise eventually moved away, fading into the distance. Looking around, you saw a sea of indignant and sour faces. The tension hovering in the air was palpable.

‘And that,’ your mother hissed through clenched teeth, ‘is why you don’t go near James Barnes and his friends.’

You had to suck in your cheeks to smother your laughter, nodding insincerely at her words. James’ voice echoed in your head…

The sinners are much more fun.

---

A couple days later, one of your old friends invited you to a house party- or ‘board game night’ as you told your parents. Parties were usually a little out of your comfort zone, but you’d do anything to get out of their house for an evening.

Wandering from room to room, you checked if there was anyone else there you recognised. Nope. You skulked to the kitchen and opened a can of diet coke.

There was a hard tap on your shoulder and you turned to see James Barnes’ wide smile.

‘Hey there.’

‘Hi James.’ You muttered, taking a sip of your drink. ‘I heard your little stunt outside the church last week. You make a habit of that?’

‘Nope. Just thought it’d be nice to welcome you home.’

Interesting. That whole thing was for you? Your stomach started to flutter with excitement despite part of your brain screaming that he was probably just mocking you, flirting with you for a bet. To save any potential embarrassment, you went on the defensive.

‘Gee, thanks. Are you and your friends always that obnoxious James?’

‘Ah y’know.’ He leant against the counter, folding his arms, still grinning at you. ‘We might be laughing a bit too loud, but that never hurt no one.’

You raised an eyebrow, feigning disinterest and doing everything you could to keep a lid on how excited his deep chuckles were making you. He bit his lip and your heart felt like it was going to leap out of your chest.

‘And call me Bucky.’ He pushed himself off the counter, disappearing into the crowd.

Hours passed and you eventually realised that you weren’t really having a great time. Everyone around you was borderline hammered but you knew if your parents got a whiff of alcohol you’d be locked inside all summer, so you were stone-cold.

You snuck out the back door, swiftly sliding it shut. Focusing more on what was happening behind you than in front, you managed to unceremoniously trample over someone’s feet.

James, of course it was. Brilliant.

He was leant against the wall, finishing off a cigarette. Chuckling, he held out the pack to you, but you shook your head.

‘Leaving so soon?’ He grunted.

‘Yeah, not really my scene.’

‘Same here. Want to go somewhere else?’ Your heart stuttered at his question. You struggled to form a reply, gazing at him wide-eyed. He smirked and looked away. 'It’s alright, I know the deal. Your mother told you all I could give you was a reputation, right?'

You couldn’t hold back your excited smile anymore and his eyes lit up when he saw it. Shrugging faintly, your mind scurried around trying to find something witty and attractive to say. He dropped his cigarette butt and crushed it under his boot before slowly approaching you. Stopping a couple inches away, he smirked down at your dazed expression.

‘Come out with me tomorrow.’

---

You told your mother that you were having a day at the local library. You weren’t necessarily lying- you had no idea what Bucky had in mind, so anything was a possibility.

He was waiting by the monument in the town centre, like he’d said yesterday.

‘So,’ you said, prompting him to turn towards you and smile, ‘what are we doing?’

He held his elbow out and you snaked your hand through it.

‘You’ll see.’

Much to your surprise, he took you to the fair. You wandered around, hand enclosed in his, talking and laughing for hours. He bought you a hot dog and spent ages trying to win you a stuffed giraffe, but his aim wasn’t great. You couldn’t hold back your laughter after he missed for the fourth time, so he picked you up, swung you around and shouted that he was going to sell you to the carnival.

When both of you were tired and full, he walked you to the park, pulling you down next to him on a bench and wrapping his arm tight around your waist.

‘Thanks Bucky.’ You said faintly.

‘For what?’

‘Didn’t think I’d be having much fun this summer, but I had a really nice time.’

He smirked and scooched even closer to you, his firm thigh pressed against yours and his thumb gently stroking your hip. There was a comfortable silence for a few seconds before he muttered to himself.

‘It ain’t right.’

‘What?’

He sighed, brushing his chin against your hair. ‘Your parents. Catholics, man- they just built you a temple and locked you away. You’ve barely lived.’

‘It’s not all bad.’ You whispered, relaxing your head against his shoulder and angling your face up towards his.

‘Maybe.’ Adjusting himself, he turned towards you and put his free hand under your chin. ‘But that stained-glass never really lets in the sun.’

He pressed his lips against yours. Your stomach flipped. His hand moved from your chin to cradle the side of your neck and his thumb brushed softly across your cheek. He pressed towards you more firmly, sliding his tongue along your lips. He tasted like cigarettes and candy floss. Your knees tensed and your thighs started shaking. He must’ve noticed, because you felt a deep chuckle vibrating into your mouth, but that only made it worse. You melted into him, just about steadying yourself by gripping the lapels of his jacket.

He pulled away, letting your head fall into the crook of his neck, keeping a tight grip on your waist.

‘Not bad for a church girl.’

---

‘What is this?!’ Your mother burst into your room, looking horrified and holding her phone out in front of her.

You squinted at the screen, it was a photo. You and Bucky holding hands at the fair. Shit.

‘Where did you get that?’ You muttered.

‘Angela sent it to me. She saw you there, with him.’

You stood from your bed, ready to plead with her. ‘Look, he’s a nice guy, he’s-’

‘He is a criminal. And if you think you’re seeing him again, you’re wrong.’ She turned and started to storm away.

You felt anger bubbling inside, nothing like you’d ever felt before. Everything Bucky had said, his anger at your parents- he was right. You’d thought about it before, of course you had, but all you’d ever felt was a kind of defeated acceptance. Now, you were pissed.

‘I am not a fucking child.’ You screamed.

She jerked to a stop. Slowly twisting round, you saw her face was filled with venom. ‘We’ll speak again when you’re ready to apologise.’ She hissed, slamming your door behind her. You heard it lock.

Wow, that felt good. Really good. You flopped down onto your bed. Your head was spinning but you were grinning to yourself, still half in disbelief. You’d never stood up to her like that before and you were starting to regret not doing it sooner.

Your phone started buzzing- Bucky.

‘Hi.’ You sighed into it.

‘Come to the window.’

Your gaze darted to the far end of your room and you fumbled off your bed. After briefly scanning the skyline, your eyes flickered down to the backyard lawn. Bucky was standing underneath your window, holding his phone to his ear, beaming up at you.

‘Came to ask if you wanted to come out, figured I probably shouldn’t knock on the front door.’

‘So you break into the garden?’ You chuckled.

He shrugged and flung his free arm out. ‘It’s romantic.’

‘Sure is.’ You grinned down at him before remembering where you were. ‘I can’t Buck. One of my mother’s friends saw us together yesterday. I’m locked in.’

‘Man, you’re living with psychopaths.’ You nodded and gave him a disheartened smile. ‘Look, I know they’re your parents, but you really don’t owe them anything. Especially after everything they’ve done.’

His words echoed around in your head, slowly becoming more convincing as you considered them. Before you could respond, the light from the room below you switched on and Bucky was immediately illuminated with bright yellow light. Without missing a beat, he sprinted towards the fence and vaulted into next door’s garden. You heard a breathy ‘I’ll see you soon babe’ through the phone before he hung up.

Your father ran out of the back door, pretty quickly deciding not to give chase. He looked up at you with anger in his eyes but you didn’t waver. You were already locked in your room for the foreseeable future, what else could he possibly do?

---

He could force you to clean all the floors in the house on your hands and knees, apparently. Scrubbing for hours and hours with him watching over you like a hawk. Your parents had pretty swiftly gone from strict but harmless religious zealots to borderline prison wardens. As soon as he left the room, you pulled your phone out and hammered out a message to Bucky.

Will you come get me? I need out.

You stared at your screen, willing him to reply before your father came back. After what felt like ages, it finally buzzed.

On my way. Pack a bag.

You jumped up from the floor and sprinted up the stairs to your room, grabbing handfuls of whatever you could reach and shoving it into your backpack. You heard your father scurrying around on the ground floor before stomping up the stairs, shouting your name. Before he made it to your room, the faint rumble of a motorbike engine started in the distance and your heart jumped.

Running into the hallway, you pushed past your father without even looking up at him and scrambled down the stairs. You pulled the front door open and a wall of fresh air hit you, allowing you to take your first clean, deep breath of the day. Since you woke up all you’d been doing was huffing floor-cleaning chemicals.

Bucky came round the corner on his bike and you almost felt like bursting into tears. Waves of relief passed through every muscle in your body and you ran down the front steps to meet him.

You leapt on to the back of his bike, still in your pyjamas, and wrapped your arms around his waist as tight as you could. It felt like you were running entirely on adrenaline. Your parents were screaming your name behind you, but they were quickly drowned out by the roaring of the motorbike coming back to life.

‘Shit, I’m not exactly dressed for a ride.’ You mumbled into his ear through your heavy breaths. ‘Don’t even have a helmet.’

You felt him vibrate with laughter as he gunned the engine and sped away.

‘Ah, don’t worry, you’ll be fine darlin.’ He raised his arm and flipped off your parents. ‘Only the good die young.’

---

Part Two

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caranfindel · 5 years

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Recap/review 14.11: “Damaged Goods”

THEN: Oh, good, we're going to have a Nick episode. I was hoping for that. (NOT.) Michael is trapped in Dean's internal walk-in. Billie has bad news related to that.

NOW: Nick interrogates a demon about another demon named Abraxis. The name sounds a little familiar and I waste a few seconds wondering where I've heard it before, but then I realize it's the demon who killed Nick's family and this has been Nick's entire focus and that's how little I care about Nick and his quest, that I couldn't even bother to remember who he was after. Anyway, he learns that the hunter who last dealt with Abraxis is in Hibbing. Oooh, who else do we know in Hibbing?

Title card!

Dean is packing. Books about angels. Tools. Work gloves. I was a little afraid we were going to ignore last week's horrifying revelation, and Dean would just sit on that information for a while. But he's wearing his Red Shirt of Bad Decisions, so we know the shit is going down tonight! \o/

He leaves the storeroom and kind of looks down the hallway, which is really insignificant the first time you watch this episode, but on rewatch you realize what he's thinking right here, and that he doesn't ever expect to see this hallway again... but I'm getting ahead of myself. He goes into the library, where Sam is quietly studying in the darkness (is that a new shirt? I like it). He ignores it when Sam asks how he's feeling. Dean tells Sam he appreciates that he's trying to help him, and Sam's all, yeah, what else would I do? He asks if Dean wants to join him, and they have this conversation.

Actually, I thought I'd go for a drive, you know, just me and Baby, long stretch of road. And figured I'd make it a two-fer, go see Mom at Donna's cabin.

Yeah, yeah, that sounds great. Be good to see them. Just let me find a stopping point and get packed up.

Actually, I was, uh, I was kind of hoping for some one-on-one time with Mom, if that's cool.

Yeah. Sure, yeah. Whatever you need.

And I thought this conversation was going to break my heart, because Sam clearly does NOT think this trip sounds great, but he's going to go anyway because it's what Dean wants/needs to do, and then Dean rejects that, and Sam's little face is going to do me in. And on rewatch, it kind of seems like Dean is stalling here, like he can't bring himself to leave (but again, I'm getting ahead of myself) AND THEN THIS HAPPENS.

Dean comes around behind Sam and HUGS HIM and says "take care, Sammy" and I'm just WHAAAAT. NO THIS IS NOT RIGHT. THIS IS SUCH A BAD, BAD SIGN, SAM WINCHESTER, AND YOU KNOW IT.

And also, there goes the rest of my heart.

Cut to Mary at the aforementioned cabin, talking to Sam on the phone. She says the cabin's been quiet since Bobby took off for a few days. The old "I need a little space after killing the ghoul version of my dead son" thing. Happens to the best of us. Sam tells her he's worried because Dean's acting so weird, and mentions the hug. Mary says "that's sweet," proving that she doesn't know her sons at all. Really, Mary, you've witnessed ONE hug between them. ONE. Sam points out that they don't hug unless it's "literally the end of the world," which isn't quite true. It would be more accurate to say "unless one of us is dying or just came back from the dead," which is slightly more frequent than the end of the world Either way, Mary assures him that everything will be fine. But as Sam's talking to her, he's walking through the storerooms in the bunker and he sees some books are missing.

(Sidebar: Why are these books kept in the storeroom and not the library? And why are regular tools apparently kept with supernatural paraphernalia? Couldn't that cause problems? What if a MoL novice was sent to Storeroom 2 for a reciprocating saw and he couldn't figure out why a saw would reciprocate or what that would look like and he came back with something he dug out of a curse box instead? I'm seeing all kinds of potential OSHA violations here.)

Now we see Dean enjoying a messy burger. Oh, he's with Donna! I love Dean and Donna, y'all. She tries to ask him about himself, but he keeps deflecting. Which doesn't fool her at all, and she finally says "just wondering if you've run out of ways to ask me how I'm doing, so as to avoid me repaying the favor." She knows about Michael, because of Sam. "What, has he got a freaking newsletter," Dean grumps. But I'm glad to see Sam's been talking to his support system, because in the past, he's not done that as often as he should.

Dean ends the conversation with the typical "I'm fine" nonsense and gives Donna one of those big hugs where he looks absolutely stricken while she can't see him and then plasters on a smile when they pull apart, and you KNOW how I love when he does that. He pulls away and says "I'll see ya." But it's pretty obvious Dean is on his farewell tour and never intends to see Donna again. It's also pretty obvious that Donna can tell something is up.

Dean pulls up to the cabin, which is seriously in need of some work on the roof, and immediately hears gunshots. It turns out to be Mary murdering some pumpkins for target practice. (SHE'S STILL GOT THAT LOCK OF TOO-LONG HAIR.) He tells her he wants to stick around for a couple of days, which surprises her. She suggests they call Sam to join them, but he says he wants to be "a little greedy with my Mom time." No, Dean, that's not suspicious at all. Jesus. (Or, as someone pointed out, Sorry Sam, but Mom was MY gift.)

Mary pushes it, and Dean comes right out and says "I don't want Sam here," and again, Dean, that's not suspicious at all. How is someone who lies professionally such a BAD liar? He explains his mood away by claiming to be hangry, even though he just finished the best burger in all of Minnesota, and tells Mary he wants the one thing she can cook, something called Winchester Surprise. She heads out to the grocery store, and doesn't suggest that the son who drove all this way to see her would want to ride along. Or maybe she does, and he refuses, and they just didn't show us that part. Anyway, the important thing is, Dean's alone and he has work to do.

He gets his bag out of the Impala and strides purposely into a large shed decorated with pictures of topless guys with 70s porn 'staches. The first one reminds me a LOT of Doug 2.0, so I laugh when Dean says "Well, Donna certainly has a type." Yes she does. He finds an 8-track player, of all things, but is interrupted by a sudden burst of Michael banging on his door. The tape he chooses is the Guess Who, and the song is "No Time Left For You," which I've never liked (lots of experience with 70s music here, kiddos) but it seems appropriate. And then he gets to work, and if you thought Sam soldering last week was hot, you're in for a treat. Let's forget our annoyance with the soundtrack and concentrate on how much we appreciate Metalworking!Dean, complete with welding helmet and safety goggles, under the watchful eyes of several shirtless moustachioed cowboys.

Mmmm, yes, we do appreciate it.

(Sidebar: Where did all this metal come from?)

Meanwhile, at the grocery store, we get a fake-out where we think someone threatening is accosting Mary, but it's only a friendly employee. And we also see that Mary puts her grocery bags in the bed of her truck? So not only does she not know how to cook, but she doesn't even know where to PUT FOOD? I.e., IN THE CAB?

He says buying food is new for her, because she usually buys whiskey, pumpkins, and crossword puzzles. Damn, Mary, it really seems like things aren't going well out there at the Love Shack if you're spending all day drinking, shooting pumpkins, and doing crossword puzzles. I'm gonna go ahead and call it - Mobby is doomed. She tells him she has family in town, which I expect to turn into the inevitable oh no, this guy is a demon and now he knows Dean is there.

But I'm exactly wrong. Nick pulls up in the creepiest windowless van possible and asks the guy if he knows where Mary Winchester is. Because why wouldn't he? Why wouldn't Random Grocery Store Guy know where everyone in Hibbing Minnesota, population 16,361, resident or guest, lives? Random Grocery Store Guy pretends he doesn't know who she is. Good for him.

(BTW, the fastest route from Lebanon to Hibbing is about 12.5 hours. But it's all interstate and I suspect either Winchester would take the route that uses more state highways and is 13.5 hours.)

(Sidebar: Yes, when I open Mapquest, Lebanon is always in my Recents. Is that not normal?)

Apparently Nick decides he'll just cruise the greater Hibbing area and try to find her, because we seem him after nightfall driving his creepy van. A police car drives by, and then turns around and pulls him over. He makes sure his stolen angel blade is in place and hides a paperclip somewhere on his person before the officer gets to him. Oooh, it's Donna!

She cuffs him and tells him the van's been reported stolen, but she also reveals she knows he's looking for Mary, and don't like the way she lays all her cards on the table like that. Let him think you're just arresting him for a stolen car, Donna. Don't let him know you're onto his Grand Scheme. He says his name is "Nunya" and then "Eat Me" (oooh, is he related to the Eat Me Sam met a few seasons ago?), but she's got some kind of mobile fingerprint scanner. Does this thing exist? She discovers who he is, but while her back is turned, he uses his paperclip to get out of the cuffs. They fight, and she seems to have the upper hand, but he gets her taser and that's the end of that.

Love Shack. When Mary pulls up, Dean is outside by the door to the Shed of Mysterious Building. He lies about what he's doing out there and carries the groceries inside, to where the table is set and he wants to help her cook (THIS IS NOT OKAY) and she FINALLY realizes something is up. (Also, Dean, we know you're not a terrible cook. Don't lie just to make your mom feel better.) She quietly talks to Sam from upstairs (though not quietly enough, Dean totally would have heard her in the real world) and agrees that something is going on. Sam tells her about the missing items and says he thinks he should come up, but she says to give her more time. WHY, MARY. WHY DO YOU THINK YOU ARE THE PERSON TO ADDRESS THIS AND NOT SAM. WHY DO YOU INSIST ON KEEPING HIM 13.5 HOURS AWAY. WHY. It doesn't matter, because when Sam hangs up, we see he's already on his way. YES. THAT'S MY BOY.

Dinner. Dean tells a funny/tragic story about their childhood and Mary gets a case of The Sads, realizing how much she's missed and "how much the two of you just..." Just everything, Mary. They just EVERYTHING. Together. Without John, without you. AND STILL YOU THINK SAM SHOULD SIT IN THE BUNKER AND LET YOU HANDLE THIS. DAMMIT, MARY.

Anyway. Dean says her being alive has meant "everything to me, and everything to Sam." He claims to appreciate this wonderful time they're having, but he falters when he says "there's no clouds on the horizon." Because it's a LIE. She tells him he can talk to her about whatever he's going through, and he says "Everybody keeps asking me how I am. And how I am, is I don't want to talk about it. Please."

Oh lord, his face.

Later, as he snores gently on the couch, we see Mary tiptoe downstairs and outside, to check out what's happening in the Shed of Mysterious Building. (Sidebar: Dean sleeps with one arm flung behind his back, which I think we first saw in No Escape, and I always thought it was an odd and fake-looking way to sleep until I realized I actually do that sometimes myself.) She looks through the books and things and figures out what he's doing and it must be bad because she says "no, no, no." Meanwhile, Donna is waking up inside her own cruiser. I wonder why Nick left her alive?

Dean wakes up to the sound of a ringing phone. It's not his, it's Mary's. Donna is calling to warn him about Nick. But it's too late, because when Dean goes outside, Mary isn't there. But Sam is. "Hey, whoa, easy!" he says, facing down Dean's gun, and that tickles me for some reason.

Creepy van. Nick whines to Mary. He found email from Mary in Donna's phone, giving the address of the Love Shack. He thinks Mary knows where Abraxis is. She does - the demon is trapped inside an Enochian puzzle box in a storage locker, locately conveniently in or near Hibbing. I don't care about any of this.

At the Love Shack, Sam blames himself for Nick running around like a free madman, because of course he does. Donna's APB gets a result - the creepy van has been spotted outside Grand Rapids. Donna says that's 30-40 minutes away, but Grand Rapids is actually 11.5 hours away from Hibbing. Maybe there's a little town called Grand Rapids near Hibbing. A town so small that Mapquest doesn't even know about it.

(I KNOW. NO ONE CARES. MOVING ON.)

Nick gets the Enochian puzzle box (yeah, this scene goes on FOREVER and I'm skipping a lot here, is anyone complaining? nope didn't think so) and wants to release the demon so they can talk. Mary points out that the demon needs a host to talk, and it can't be Nick and it can't be her, and she flashes an anti-possession tattoo as explanation. So drills the box open and Nick forces the storage locker employee to be the host. Abraxis says he'll tell Nick why they killed his family if he kills Mary slow and bloody.

While this is happening, we see Sam and Dean on that 30 minute/11.5 hour drive to Grand Rapids. Sam looks despondent, and they have this conversation:

Say it. I can see you want to. Might as well go ahead and say it.

All right. Nick is not a project. He's not a freaking puppy. He was Lucifer's vessel for years.

I know that, Dean, I thought -

You thought he'd what, just walk it off? Come on, man, you're not that dumb.

It's not about being dumb, Dean, it's called compassion. Look, what happened to Nick could have happened to me. It almost happened to me. You change one little thing in our past and that WAS me! Lucifer wearing ME to the prom. Besides, since when do we give up on people? Since when do we just cut people loose?

Well, maybe you need to learn, okay? Because when people are past the point of saving, maybe you need to learn to walk away.

Ouch. I hurt for both of them. Poor Sam, seeing himself in Nick and wanting to save that guy the way he wishes someone had wanted to save him. Having faith in Nick's potential the way he wanted someone, anyone, to have faith in his own. And Dean obviously isn't talking about Nick, at least not there at the end, because we've heard it from Dean before, talking about himself. I can't be saved; walk away.

The guys arrive at the storage locker just in time to stop Nick from killing Mary slow and bloody. Nick scratches out the devil's trap that's holding the demon, and Abraxis immediately tosses them around and tells Nick he was chosen completely at random. Damn, Nick is as whiny as Lucifer was. (I wonder who influenced who? Discuss.)

Dean tries to quietly exorcise the demon, but Abraxis flings him against a shelf and we get a flash of skin. But before he can start killing anyone, Nick stabs him with the stolen angel blade. Then Nick acts like he's going to stab the others if they don't let him escape, so Donna shoots him in the leg. Dammit, Donna, this was the perfect opportunity to kill him. He already killed one person, and he was threatening to kill the rest of you. It would have been a clean shoot. Instead, Mary punches the wounded whiny baby and Sam does a wee little version of his glorious post-exertion huff.

Outside, Sam gives Nick a sad, confused look.

Why?

I needed the truth, Sam. I needed revenge for my family. You would have done the same thing.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry I couldn't help you, I'm sorry I didn't know how.

It's not about you, Sam. It was never about you. You couldn't fix me because I didn't want to be fixed. I was never broken.

Yeah, Nick, you are. I don't feel sorry for you, Nick. I feel sorry for the people you hurt, the people you murdered. The people whose faces will haunt you every night for the rest of your life. You can burn.

FUUUUUCK. That's cold as hell and it's not like Sam Winchester at all and I love it to pieces. He's finally given up on this asshole. But it's finally time to move away from the B plot, and Mary tells Dean she saw what he was building in the shed. She knows what he's building, she knows what he's planning, and the three of them ARE going to talk about it. And if he doesn't tell Sam, she will. So, you finally think Sam's input is important, Mary? Good to know.

When the sun rises, we're back at the Shed of Mysterious Building. Dean is showing Sam what he's done. He calls it something like a "maloch box," which I'm sure is spelled wrong. It looks like a giant coffin (yeah, about that...) Nothing can escape it, not even an archangel. Sam knows what they are but says they're impossible to build, and Dean's all, "not so much." And then they have this conversation and I'm sorry (no I'm not), but I had to transcribe the whole thing.

That's your plan? You want to be buried alive?

Buried's not safe enough. Plan is, pay a little hush money, charter a boat to take me out to the Pacific. Splash.

You and Michael, trapped, together, for eternity.

Yeah.

You do realize how insane this is, right?

It's the only sane play I've got. Michael gets out, that's it for this world. And he will get out.

How do you know that for sure?

Because I do. Because I can feel him, in my head. That door is giving. I can feel it giving.

There has to be another way.

There's not, okay? There's... Sam, you've tried. Cas has tried. Jack. And I love you for trying, but none of it's going to work.

But we don't know that!

Yeah, we do.

What?

Billie. She paid me a little visit. She said that there's only one way that this ends right. And this is it. This, right here. This box. So she gave up the special recipe and all I had to do was the work. It's fate.

Since when do we believe in fate?

Now, Sam. Since now.

So, you came out here, to see Donna, to see Mom, on some what, some sick secret farewell tour? You were gonna leave, and you weren't even gonna tell me. Me. Do you realize how messed up that is? How unfair that is?

I didn't have a choice! Sam, you're the last person I could tell, the last person I could be around, cause you're the only one that could have talked me out of it! And I won't be talked out of it. I won't. I'm doing this. Now you can either let me do it alone, or you could help me. But I'm doing this.

...

All right.

Oh, guys.

Well, I've got to admit, Dean's prophesied horrifying death was a letdown. First, because it wasn't even new - it was basically the same fate Death offered him when he had the MoC. Worse, sure. Being locked in a box with an angry archangel rather than floating in space and having some kind of dream life, never a good option. (ASK SAM. HE KNOWS.) But mostly because it didn't live up to his reaction when he first read Billie's book. I was sure (and I wasn't alone) that his tearful reaction meant it was going to involve something horrible for someone he loves (SAM). But this? The Dean we know would have reacted the way he did when Rowena told him he had to "be the bomb" in order to destroy Amara. Yeah, this sucks, but I always knew it was gonna end ugly, so, whaddya gonna do?

(Sidebar: This brings up an interesting question. I know an angel's vessel is immortal, but would Dean still be immortal even though Michael was trapped inside his head? Would the fact that Michael wasn't in the driver's seat stop him from keeping his vessel alive? Or would the angel's grace do that all on its own?)

But oh, guys. This scene. THIS SCENE. These two. Dean saying I love you for trying. Dean at the beginning, chin up, so defiant, so defensive because this is exactly what he was afraid of - telling Sam, and having to stick to his plan. (He's probably remembering the last time Sam talked him out of this very thing, kneeling on the floor in front of him, agreeing to support the plan for Dean to lock himself up with the Mark of Cain forever, looking up at him with the puppy dog eyes and nodding to accept that Dean has to cut his head off in order to prevent him from undoing that act; or maybe he's not actually remembering that but now I am, goddammit guys, I need a minute.) And Sam realizing that last little hug was Dean's last planned goodbye, and being so angry and so hurt, and the way he looks so young there at the end, when he stops and finally says "all right." I know we've seen this before but IT STILL GETS ME. EVERY DAMN TIME.

(Sidebar: Did Dean leave Sam a note? Is it in the bunker somewhere? Because Sam's last conversation with his father was the old man saying I don't know why we always fight, now go away and his last conversation with his brother would have been I want to go visit Mom without you. Discuss. Fanfic it. Come wail with me about it.)

(Also... Dean's farewell tour didn't include Cas? Jack? Jody?)

Well. Happy 40th birthday, Dean Winchester.

Worst. Birthday. Ever.

So, this episode? Too much Nick. Not enough Sam. Things that did not live up to expectations. But also, things that were wonderfully unexpected. I've seen worse, my friends. What did you think? And please help me stay unspoiled, thanks!

#spn #14.11 #spoilers #tv recaps #review #season 14 #things that are not ok #sam winchester #dean winchester #dean’s red shirt of bad decisions

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