He didn't think he was my dad, but I always counted him as my dad. I didn't care if we were fucking biologically related. And there were other ways to protect us that he could have tried and he didn't. He did everything he could to try and keep me away from the hunter shit, but never taught us anything to actually protect ourselves when he wasn't there because hunter Dean wasn't "good enough" for us.
[It's not the fact that he gave them up. That, Ben maybe could have handled if it was just simply a matter of him being like "I don't want to be here," and walking away. Sure, he still would have been pissed, but he would have understood.]
He put us in this glass jar and pretended to be normal, but when the jar broke, he couldn't handle it and instead of finding a way to fix it, he erased my memory and walked away. I'm not mad because he gave me up, I'm mad because my mom got fucking possessed and almost died, and his response was to take what little we did know away again. How was that fucking protecting us?
[Ben's trying not to be loud, because they are in public, but while he knows Dickerson is trying to help, there are layers to this shit sandwich that he's not interested in him defending Dean on.]
He should have told us how to have that not happen. He should have made her get the goddamn tattoo. Dean says he left because he couldn't protect us? He didn't try because all he actually did do is not be there while being the only person who actually knew anything.
[He slumps back against the chair and rubs a hand over his face.]
And yeah. Parents give kids up for adoption all the time. But if the kid is old enough, they're still allowed to be pissed about it.
( Dickerson knows when he's struck a cord. His voice goes quiet. He doesn't raise it. Doesn't pick the fight both of him know he wants. But, it also means that, like Dick wanted, logic's being followed. So, he goes quiet, knowing a nerve is rattling.
Ben's hurt. If he could undo the hurt, he would. But, he doesn't know how. )
I don't know. Maybe, he knew whatever he had to deal with began and ended with you guys in that hospital. So, he figured - better than safe and not knowing me. ( But he can't say. His voice modulates, but Dickerson doesn't back down, or blink, just takes it all in. Acoustics are shit in here, anyway. ) I know. I know you're pissed. I'd be, too. ...Not following the tattoo thing, though. That... like, family bonding?
The tattoo prevents the person who has it from being possessed.
[He didn't realize it when he was a kid, but he sees it now, the cracks in the ways that Dean tried to protect them. He also feels bad for unloading it all on Dickerson, but it takes a lot of effort to play nice with memories he's still processing.
He's not going to comment on anything else because he said what he said.]
Unless, he's asking for space from his best friend. Which, he shouldn't feel as protective over. He wishes he weren't on call so he could grab a beer, throw darts emotionally and shoot the shit with Helene, who is probably eyeing them, too.
There's an instinct that kicks in, one he first felt years ago but never followed through on. Kid needed a friend more than he needed - and it's not like Dick's ever been place to be what someone needs. He's got the ex-fiancee to prove it. Dad didn't leave him a great blueprint and his mom's still out there somewhere. )
You want to just go over and bother Helene? She asks anything too deep, I'll chuck an olive at her.
I do want to meet her. Felt like a good olive branch.
[The Dean stuff ... well, he can pretend to be fine while they talk. Or maybe she can tell him something that will make it make more sense.
And he also is reconfirming that he does need to go back to therapy but he doesn't know who will do the actual therapizing, so that's a problem for future Ben to sort out.
Dickerson, however, is offering a fun alternative, so he nods.]
( He lets him off the hook, like he has since the beginning of their friendship. Dick likes to be the person to prop him up, to be there. To not say the thing. Or say it at the right time. And sometimes, he knows exactly what to say.
Like now. It's easier to push it all to the side. Bother Helene, catapult a fry or a cherry at her if she tries to get into Ben's feelings.
When Ben inevitably leaves, he stays behind. Checks the time, cause he's no longer on call, and orders a real drink. He tells her to leave the bottle and to join him. Also: )
Helene has been friends with both Ben and Dickerson for a long time. She knows they're both a pair of dumbasses and she knows that he carries a torch for Ben that Ben seems oblivious to.
(She doubts it, but he's got a lot going on right now so Helene isn't going to get mad at him about it.)
( His flat look should overtake the glint in her eyes, but she's the one person that pierces that armor. )
Before he came down, I would've said, nothing about this adds up. Long story. But, the more he says and the more Ben hears, I don't know. I see where he's coming from and why he did what he did.
( He just wishes Ben didn't take everything on his shoulders to then take it right on the chin. )
[Helene nods as she steals one of his fries, before tipping her head to the side.
"Why doesn't always make it better, dude. You can't logic away your feelings. And you know Ben. He's not going to let it go until he's ready to let it go."
She pauses before leaning in closer.
"And if you keep telling him how to feel, he will punch you in the face."]
I'm not telling him how - ( He throws a fry at her, that she might catch, he's not trying to send it, just - toss it at her point. ) You know how he is. You know how deeply he takes shit. And this, it's upset everything. This dude -- ( He takes a sip of his whiskey. ) Just. Way out of nowhere. And a part of it's my fault. I did the digging.
["So you want to make sure it works because you feel like you're the one who dumped him in Ben's lap?"
Helene raises an eyebrow as she does catch that fry, and pops it in her mouth. It sounds drier than she actually means it - breaking things down into brass tacks always lands that way. But she wants to make sure she's understanding the root of Dickerson's issue.
( It definitely felt mutual. He thinks back to figure whether it was or wasn't. No, he knows he was asked and it was a whole rabbit hole. )
And, it's just a lot. Like, he's back in his life, didn't know he was his dad back then. Knows now. Regrets his decisions he can't take back. It's a ball of wax. And the little guy doesn't deserve it.
["No one deserves their parents." Helene takes a sip of her drink. "Especially their fathers. Though that may just be me speaking as the reigning queen of Daddy Issues."
Not that she talks about her family much, but they at least know that much about her.
"And also speaking from my royal perspective - you weren't there dude. Ben was. So maybe take his word for it on him not being ready to forgive Dean yet."]
( He'll clink his glass to that, and sip. His father has his good days and bad. But, ultimately, his father does come through. Doesn't know he's on the bi side of the Kinsey scale, but does he have to? )
Dude. I get it. So why am I so -- ( he gestures, rolling his right hand. )
["Because you're a fixer. If there's a problem, you need to solve it. You're not good at sitting in the discomfort. Sometimes it's very handy. And makes you very good at your job."
She has probably called him multiple times because something's gone wrong somewhere and she has no idea how to fix it.
"And sometimes you need to learn how to sit on your hands and let it breathe because it's not your problem to fix."]
[After heading home from the bar and making an impromptu phone call with Elena, Ben passes out and tries not to think about all the things he's trying to juggle. The morning doesn't make things much better, and he knows that he can't wait for his new therapist to talk to his mom.
So he makes his way over to the house, knocking on the door as he opens it and glances around. He doesn't see Rudy's car in the driveway. Hopefully he's already gone to work.]
( She's going over the notes for one of her local stump speeches. She's hunched over a half-eaten bagel at the counter, not in her heels yet, but dressed for work. ) Clarke's upstairs, but on a Zoom call.
( Civilian, as Dean would put it, in case he wants to discuss any recent revelations. She comes around the counter to pull her son in for a good morning hug. )
Do you want some coffee? ( She steps back, checking her watch. ) Are you in early at the garage today?
There are very few things you could ever do to fuck up my day, just by fucking up your own. And, I don't see the wringing of the hands and I don't think you're dating anyone, so I'll rule out, you got a girl pregnant or spent a night in jail.
( She takes her own coffee with her and leaves all of the campaign stuff in the kitchen as she leads him out to their back porch, to sit at the table. Sound travels in the house. But, also. It's a beautiful day out. And her son is here. )
[Someone is upstairs. He has to keep that in mind. And he doesn't want to have this whole conversation about sleeping in code, so he'll put it as simply as he can.]
I'm going back to therapy.
[He doesn't have to tell her. He can pay for it himself.]
It's going to take time to find a person though and I don't think this can wait, so ...
[He takes another deep breath, stirring some cream into his coffee before he finally says it.]
Okay. I'm guessing this isn't the part that's going to fuck up my day?
( She lifts her coffee in her hands and settles back. Gaining those memories back, it isn't a night she relives. She remembers their year together. Dean saving Ben. Dean pushing Ben. She remembers trying to move on. She remembers feeling like she was in a vacuum, someone else using her voice, a knife shoved in her stomach. Being exorcised and drifting in and out of consciousnes.
[Ben cups his hands around the cup and tries to put it together in ways that make sense.]
The ... It made you say a lot of stuff that day. And I know he said they lie and I know it probably wasn't true. At least not all the time. I know I can be a shit sometimes.
[He sets his jaw, and puts the coffee cup down.]
I need you to tell me that it wasn't true. Or ... at least that it's not true now.
( She knew it. She should have said it right away, that she'd never say something like that, but, she didn't know what was coming. There's everything under the bridge between them and Dean, and a year and -- more. She still remembers the night Dean came to her door. Broken. Needing somewhere. Fulfilling what Sam wanted.
She sets her coffee aside and holds her hands out. Once he takes them. She squeezes. Hard. She leans forward. )
I wouldn't trade anything for you. You weren't a mistake. And, other than - you know I'm pro-choice and we've had discussions like these - ( she's a feminist, and he needs to know what his options are ) other than, having the choice, it never was a choice, Ben. Not for me. I have never once regretted having you. I don't care about the bad days or the days you make me want to shake you just a little bit because I love you because it's your life, Ben. And when you were nine and eleven and every other age, I was your mother. That was my job. You were a teenager. I was a teenager. Hell, my twenties? ( Duh. ) I'm your mother. I always will be. No matter what any demon says and if I could, after everything, I'd tell you exactly that. Maybe just a little edited. Honey, have you been carrying this?
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He didn't think he was my dad, but I always counted him as my dad. I didn't care if we were fucking biologically related. And there were other ways to protect us that he could have tried and he didn't. He did everything he could to try and keep me away from the hunter shit, but never taught us anything to actually protect ourselves when he wasn't there because hunter Dean wasn't "good enough" for us.
[It's not the fact that he gave them up. That, Ben maybe could have handled if it was just simply a matter of him being like "I don't want to be here," and walking away. Sure, he still would have been pissed, but he would have understood.]
He put us in this glass jar and pretended to be normal, but when the jar broke, he couldn't handle it and instead of finding a way to fix it, he erased my memory and walked away. I'm not mad because he gave me up, I'm mad because my mom got fucking possessed and almost died, and his response was to take what little we did know away again. How was that fucking protecting us?
[Ben's trying not to be loud, because they are in public, but while he knows Dickerson is trying to help, there are layers to this shit sandwich that he's not interested in him defending Dean on.]
He should have told us how to have that not happen. He should have made her get the goddamn tattoo. Dean says he left because he couldn't protect us? He didn't try because all he actually did do is not be there while being the only person who actually knew anything.
[He slumps back against the chair and rubs a hand over his face.]
And yeah. Parents give kids up for adoption all the time. But if the kid is old enough, they're still allowed to be pissed about it.
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Ben's hurt. If he could undo the hurt, he would. But, he doesn't know how. )
I don't know. Maybe, he knew whatever he had to deal with began and ended with you guys in that hospital. So, he figured - better than safe and not knowing me. ( But he can't say. His voice modulates, but Dickerson doesn't back down, or blink, just takes it all in. Acoustics are shit in here, anyway. ) I know. I know you're pissed. I'd be, too. ...Not following the tattoo thing, though. That... like, family bonding?
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The tattoo prevents the person who has it from being possessed.
[He didn't realize it when he was a kid, but he sees it now, the cracks in the ways that Dean tried to protect them. He also feels bad for unloading it all on Dickerson, but it takes a lot of effort to play nice with memories he's still processing.
He's not going to comment on anything else because he said what he said.]
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( So, there's some validation? )
What can I do.
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[He understands he's trying to help, but it's Ben's shit he's got to sort through.]
I think ... I just need some space to sort through all of this. It happened a long time ago but right now it's all still ... fresh.
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( Space doesn't translate.
Unless, he's asking for space from his best friend. Which, he shouldn't feel as protective over. He wishes he weren't on call so he could grab a beer, throw darts emotionally and shoot the shit with Helene, who is probably eyeing them, too.
There's an instinct that kicks in, one he first felt years ago but never followed through on. Kid needed a friend more than he needed - and it's not like Dick's ever been place to be what someone needs. He's got the ex-fiancee to prove it. Dad didn't leave him a great blueprint and his mom's still out there somewhere. )
You want to just go over and bother Helene? She asks anything too deep, I'll chuck an olive at her.
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[The Dean stuff ... well, he can pretend to be fine while they talk. Or maybe she can tell him something that will make it make more sense.
And he also is reconfirming that he does need to go back to therapy but he doesn't know who will do the actual therapizing, so that's a problem for future Ben to sort out.
Dickerson, however, is offering a fun alternative, so he nods.]
Yeah, sure. Let's do it.
[Helene is always an excellent distraction.]
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Like now. It's easier to push it all to the side. Bother Helene, catapult a fry or a cherry at her if she tries to get into Ben's feelings.
When Ben inevitably leaves, he stays behind. Checks the time, cause he's no longer on call, and orders a real drink. He tells her to leave the bottle and to join him. Also: )
Don't give me that look, Hel.
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Helene has been friends with both Ben and Dickerson for a long time. She knows they're both a pair of dumbasses and she knows that he carries a torch for Ben that Ben seems oblivious to.
(She doubts it, but he's got a lot going on right now so Helene isn't going to get mad at him about it.)
"Dean seems like an okay guy."]
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Before he came down, I would've said, nothing about this adds up. Long story. But, the more he says and the more Ben hears, I don't know. I see where he's coming from and why he did what he did.
( He just wishes Ben didn't take everything on his shoulders to then take it right on the chin. )
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"Why doesn't always make it better, dude. You can't logic away your feelings. And you know Ben. He's not going to let it go until he's ready to let it go."
She pauses before leaning in closer.
"And if you keep telling him how to feel, he will punch you in the face."]
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( HE ASKED. But, he still feels responsible. )
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Helene raises an eyebrow as she does catch that fry, and pops it in her mouth. It sounds drier than she actually means it - breaking things down into brass tacks always lands that way. But she wants to make sure she's understanding the root of Dickerson's issue.
"Did he ask you to go digging?"]
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( It definitely felt mutual. He thinks back to figure whether it was or wasn't. No, he knows he was asked and it was a whole rabbit hole. )
And, it's just a lot. Like, he's back in his life, didn't know he was his dad back then. Knows now. Regrets his decisions he can't take back. It's a ball of wax. And the little guy doesn't deserve it.
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Not that she talks about her family much, but they at least know that much about her.
"And also speaking from my royal perspective - you weren't there dude. Ben was. So maybe take his word for it on him not being ready to forgive Dean yet."]
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Dude. I get it. So why am I so -- ( he gestures, rolling his right hand. )
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She has probably called him multiple times because something's gone wrong somewhere and she has no idea how to fix it.
"And sometimes you need to learn how to sit on your hands and let it breathe because it's not your problem to fix."]
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So he makes his way over to the house, knocking on the door as he opens it and glances around. He doesn't see Rudy's car in the driveway. Hopefully he's already gone to work.]
Hey, Mom? You home?
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( She's going over the notes for one of her local stump speeches. She's hunched over a half-eaten bagel at the counter, not in her heels yet, but dressed for work. ) Clarke's upstairs, but on a Zoom call.
( Civilian, as Dean would put it, in case he wants to discuss any recent revelations. She comes around the counter to pull her son in for a good morning hug. )
Do you want some coffee? ( She steps back, checking her watch. ) Are you in early at the garage today?
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[And yes please coffee. He moves to fix it from the coffee maker, wanting something to do with his hands.]
Are you busy? I was hoping that we could talk, but I could come back later? I don't want to fuck up your day.
[Which probably tells you enough about what he wants to talk about but he needs to at least try to unpack some of this.]
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( She takes her own coffee with her and leaves all of the campaign stuff in the kitchen as she leads him out to their back porch, to sit at the table. Sound travels in the house. But, also. It's a beautiful day out. And her son is here. )
What's on your mind?
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I'm going back to therapy.
[He doesn't have to tell her. He can pay for it himself.]
It's going to take time to find a person though and I don't think this can wait, so ...
[He takes another deep breath, stirring some cream into his coffee before he finally says it.]
I want to talk about the day Dean left for good.
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( She lifts her coffee in her hands and settles back. Gaining those memories back, it isn't a night she relives. She remembers their year together. Dean saving Ben. Dean pushing Ben. She remembers trying to move on. She remembers feeling like she was in a vacuum, someone else using her voice, a knife shoved in her stomach. Being exorcised and drifting in and out of consciousnes.
She remembers that day. )
What about it?
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The ... It made you say a lot of stuff that day. And I know he said they lie and I know it probably wasn't true. At least not all the time. I know I can be a shit sometimes.
[He sets his jaw, and puts the coffee cup down.]
I need you to tell me that it wasn't true. Or ... at least that it's not true now.
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She sets her coffee aside and holds her hands out. Once he takes them. She squeezes. Hard. She leans forward. )
I wouldn't trade anything for you. You weren't a mistake. And, other than - you know I'm pro-choice and we've had discussions like these - ( she's a feminist, and he needs to know what his options are ) other than, having the choice, it never was a choice, Ben. Not for me. I have never once regretted having you. I don't care about the bad days or the days you make me want to shake you just a little bit because I love you because it's your life, Ben. And when you were nine and eleven and every other age, I was your mother. That was my job. You were a teenager. I was a teenager. Hell, my twenties? ( Duh. ) I'm your mother. I always will be. No matter what any demon says and if I could, after everything, I'd tell you exactly that. Maybe just a little edited. Honey, have you been carrying this?
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