everyonelives | why is it you always get to sit in the shade

( Expedited. She didn't catch that. )

I cheated it once, I thought I'd make it an even two.

( Cheated is generous. She spent most of junior year recovering from the Oni's sword. )

Sounds like you have a little luck on your side.

[And that's a good person to have when Winchesters are around.]

So what brought you running home?

["Someone posted this list online doxxing a lot of big name supernaturals," Lydia holds up a hand. "Myself included. So Dean thought it would be smart to go off the grid for a while."]

And you are a ...

["Banshee."]

Oh wow. Those are pretty rare.

And different then the ones your sons are used to. We learned that there are species with different magical origins. All kinds.

( When she heard about the banshee in the retirement home, she worried about Lydia, about what she could become, but Lydia went through the worst at Eichen House, and she has grown into a confident banshee. She is not wrathful or wailing. )

Vampires, werewolves, banshees.

Yeah, I'm learning that too.

[She's had a lot to catch up on in the time she's been gone.]

But I generally trust my sons enough to use their heads.

[Lydia glances over at Dean, raising an eyebrow because no, she hasn't forgotten the night they met, but she says nothing.]

( Dean came in hot, but, he's always come in hot. He's working on that anger streak, trusts Allison and in turn trusts Lydia, so her look is met with a look. She can blame him for how he was raised and the last eighteen or so years, hell, his life, he'll take it.

Allison sees the look, too, and doesn't tell her that her sons have good heads on their shoulders. Because she does believe Sam... does. Eventually, Dean won't feel like a wildcard. )

What was it like, if I may ask? Coming back after all those years?

... It was pretty rough.

[She had a very steep learning curve of things to adjust to, and a lot of emotional work to figure out as well. It was hard, so honestly her statement is a bit of an understatement.]

I went from having a husband, a four year-old and an infant to my husband being dead and my sons being two grown men in the blink of an eye. It's hard not to think about the things you missed, or wondering the point of being back here in the first place.

Life is a struggle enough without having to try and find your way back through it after a long absence.

( That, she can see.

"Mom did the work," Dean says, recalling how she had to go off on her own so often in the beginning, how she involved herself with the Men of Letters, and how she found her way with their newly found family, and with Jack who is more like a grandson now to her. But also a nephew. Yeah, that's complicated. )

It helped that my sons were so understanding about it.

[A pause as her boys get a smile.]

And are also used to piles and piles of weird shit.

You only call it weird shit cause God didn't carbon copy you across twenty universes.

( That they know of. He probably did, but Chuck didn't nearly care enough about their parents as he did with the Winchesters themselves. Not to mention, AMIDST the God of it all, they had already met angels (hi, Cas), time traveled, and traveled between worlds. )

Yes, sweetheart. That doesn't really happen to most people.

[She's just saying. Lydia raises an eyebrow at that however, and raises her fork with a question.

"Did anyone ever try to tell him that's a bit obsessive?"]

( Just him and Sam. And Cas and all his copies. Jack for a time. Easy to get a new lease on life when God stops fucking with you. Otherwise, he might not have made it real with Elena. After all, what was? )

The guy masked himself as a prophet for years writing our life in a series of pulp novels. He didn't need to be told. ( He pauses. ) They're... graphic.

[Lydia's eyebrows climb even higher because what is your life, Dean, but before she can express any further commentary, the door to the bunker opens and closes, and Damon's voice carries out into the kitchen.]

Hello, Winchesters. Just a friend, don't shoot.

We're in here!

( He glances at Sam. )

Elena and Katherine are on the run.

( Which, fine, where Damian goes. Secret bunker, though. Who is he kidding, their bunker became a hunter hub years ago in the great crossover from Apocalypse World.

"This feels a little like theatre class," she says to Lydia. Who knows who's going to come in the door. )

Yes, they are, and I was instructed to meet them here.

[He didn't just show up to the secret bunker for no good reason. But he will smile at Mary, who is the one person He doesn't know.]

Damian Jericho. Pleasure.

["Mary Winchester." She gets up to start cleaning up what's left of dinner. "I'll let you guys talk."]

( Dean lets his mother busy herself as the rest of them get down to business. )

Katherine letting anyone in on her future whereabouts. Not something you get used to, easily. Take a load off. You drink?

Always.

[Look, they live a hard life, and he just came off a hard job before he rushed out here.]

Honestly I thought she would beat me here. They must have hit a detour.

Elena.

( They've described their two dynamics perfectly in a one-two punch like it was planned.

He gets a beer for his efforts! Have a beer, Damian.

"You know my father, Chris Argent," Allison says coolly, making it clear that they are in hunter company. )

No, she already had Elena.

[He takes the beer with a nod before sliding into a seat.]

That's why she told me to come here - because she was taking Elena here.

[Then he turns back to Allison with a smile.]

Yes, I do. Lovely man who paid me very well.

( They may have already buddied up, but even he can see his girlfriend's passion sending the distant family members on a side quest. Elena plus Katherine, version: hunter. )

Yeah, we're caught up.

( "I'd hope all your clients paid you well." Allison would assume that if he's hired, he's taken care of. )

Edited 2022-08-11 22:58 (UTC)

Most did. Unless they thought they could get away without paying me. Usually by trying to kill me.

[He takes another sip of his beer.]

They didn't make that mistake twice.

( He'd say something about talk of wasting an ungrateful client, but his mother's in the kitchen and Bobby doesn't bristle. A glint in Bobby's eye suggests solidarity. )

Maybe cut story time short.

( Still twitchy about Bela, it doesn't help that he sees her and Damian as two sides of the same coin.

"I'm going to help your mom," Allison says, standing and cleaning over to grab two plates. She glances to Lydia as she walks by, but it's up to her friend if she wants to stay in the middle of the testosterone. )

[Lydia pops up because no, she's not going to stay. "Me too." And with that she disappears into the kitchen with Allison. Damian lets them go and studies the two men left, raising an eyebrow curiously.]

You know I have to wonder. Do you give police officers or private investigators as much shit as you clearly want to give me for getting paid to do my job?

[Because everybody's gotta make a living.]

It's not the job I have a problem with.

( It's the flagrant admission that he killed clients who tried to screw him over. Yes, those clients were probably deserving of it in one way or another, but maybe not every one was. Who is Dean to be the moral high road, however.

Bobby, as he usually can, understands where Dean is coming from, and speaks up finally. Maybe not helping. But, Bobby has two modes. Helping and not helping.

"Dean doesn't like cops, either. Private investigators he could take or leave." )

Bobby.

( "What? You can't blame a guy for getting back at someone who leaves him in the lurch. Doesn't mean he offed the bastard." )

Oh. No. Well, only if the way they decide not to pay me is trying to kill me first. Self-defense, you understand.

[He's not really one for killing.]

I blackball them. We've a very small industry, so it works rather effectively.

[And then they probably die because they stumble into trying to find these powerful artifacts on their own and well ... that's not Damian's problem.]

Self defense.

( If Bobby understands anything, it's definitely the idea of self defense. )

So, the sorry sucker ends up high and dry.

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