Beat The Devils Tattoo

Chapter 7

Chapter 7: Children of Prosperity

Max was there when Dean rode up in the morning, as scruffy and sad as usual. He looked healthier than he had in months, though, and the jacket settled nicely on his shoulders, his jeans shoved into his boots. Dean felt a surge of affection, which only heightened when Max smiled up at him from where he was sitting on the porch of the garage. "Hi, Dean."

"Hey, Max." He ruffled his hair as he went past, trying not to feel too sappy when Max clearly leaned into it. It seemed that after so many flinching, scared movements around him, Max was finally starting to realize that Dean had no intention of hurting him. Dean paused, gently scratching through Max's hair and feeling a small smile on his lips when Max sighed in contentment, leaning against his leg. "How's it feel to be a full member now?"

"Great," he said, looking up at Dean with a positively huge smile. "I've never been this happy."

"Good," Dean said, fond. "Good to have you." With one last stroke through his hair, he walked into the garage, headed for the office.

It had been Dean's idea to bring in the new blood. While the good old boys club wasn't an issue, really, they were getting smaller and smaller. Soon, they would have been three men in tattered jackets. Dean had gone out and found the people who needed the club, who needed family they didn't have and hope that no one would give them, and gave them a home to turn to. Female, male, gay, straight, bi, or what have you, John Winchester had taken them all with some careful prodding, and Dean was proud of what the club had become.

Emma was inside the waiting room, her new vest sitting firmly on her shoulders. She was trained in martial arts, Jujitsu and Judo specifically, and preferred her arms freed up, much like Sam. Dean's heart swelled with pride as she stood up, turning to show it off.

"Looks nice," he said approvingly. "Nice and shiny. How's your head?' Emma had very enthusiastically downed at least six shots at some point, probably more, and he vaguely remembered her dancing on the bar at some point. She grinned impishly at him, tossing her hair.

"Feels fine. I don't get hung over, remember?"

"That's right, you superhuman weirdo," Dean said with a fake scowl at her, making her smirk and preen. The girl was a pain, but she was Dean's favorite all the same. Stubborn, determined, and dryly witty, she'd been forced to grow up too fast, and Dean was a sucker for people with tough lives. Emma had been raised by a brutally strict MMA fighter mother who was gone more often than not, and had actually clung to Dean in high school. She'd been in one of Sam's classes, and the two hit it off well. She was fiercely loyal, and looked at Dean like he'd hung the moon from day one.

"Where are the rest of my wayward children?" Dean asked as Andy wandered in from the garage, Ansem trailing behind him like an over eager puppy. Andy shrugged eloquently, smiling lazily up at him as he collapsed into one of the chairs.

"Not a clue. Max was outside giving thanks to the universe or something earlier," he said. "Hey, can I be excused from meetings today? It's just that Tracey wanted to do dinner and I want to fix this, man. You know what she's like."

Dean rolled his eyes. "You used that excuse last week," he pointed out, and Andy slumped.

"Dammit."

Emma smirked, sauntering her way out the door to go and sit by Max, who looked thrilled to have company. Dean just shook his head, and sat down at the desk.

oOo

The shop was actually quite efficient, and raked in a good amount of money. John, being the grouchy, mistrusting bastard that he was, had operated under a "if you're cheap, they will come" philosophy. As a result, the Winchester Repair Shop boasted the lowest prices in town and the best service. It drove the dealers crazy, but the shop made money hand over fist, and Dean couldn't help but be pleased about that. Some went to the club, but the rest went to pay fees for the community college classes Dean had badgered the younger ones into, and a little more into a side account that was steadily growing for Bobby and Rufus's retirement. Dean had insisted on the community college. A high school dropout without even a GED, he was determined that the younger ones learn. He hadn't been able to harangue Sam into going for the sheer fact that Sam could get in anywhere he'd like and hadn't bothered to actually apply anywhere.
And so in the afternoon, before meetings, he found himself at the table working intently on darning his socks as his new club members whined at him about their classes. Ansem was the only one who wasn't trying to get out of them, but that was simply because there was a girl he liked in one of them. Andy's whining was only half hearted, as he delved through philosophy. Emma was loud to whine about anatomy, but quick to explain all about the lymph system, and Max was going for a social work degree like a dog with a bone, but would deny it fervently if asked. Ava was working on a secretarial degree and Garth, of all things, wanted to be a dentist. Dean knew more about teeth now than he ever wanted to know.

But he was good with a needle and thread, and despite the teasing about him being some delicate housewife, Dean settled in to work on the socks, shirts, and other things that got ripped in the course of a week, patiently listening and commenting when necessary. As Dean worked the needle with smooth, easy motions, he found himself actually smiling, basking in the comfort of having family around. Even when Sam came in, reeking of oil and getting it all over a chair, he just handed him a couple of rags and told him to clean it up.

Once everyone else stumped in, Jake showing up with a cocky smirk and an "I-got-laid" swagger, Dean put away the darning and ignored the eyeroll it got from Rufus. Tara shooed Andy out of her seat, Bobby broke out the Chinese he'd brought, and everyone settled in to eat. It was a tradition Mary had started. Once a week, the club got together for dinner. It was typically loud and happy, and Dean's favorite part of the week.

Benny was noticeably absent, and Dean tried not to be terribly upset about that. After a moment where everybody looked at the empty chair, Dean shrugged and forced a smile.

"The man has things to do, I'm sure," he said, as Max slumped. Max and Benny got on well, largely because Benny had once beaten Max's uncle into a bloody ugly pulp when he'd seen the bruises on the boy's side.

That particular act of violence had inspired some very wild sex. Dean appreciated his subordinates work and made it clear to them. Benny, granted, was the only who was regularly fucked for his work.

"You have sex-face on," Emma said, shaking him out of it. Ansem and Andy snickered, while Ava rolled her eyes. Dean ignored them all, delicately getting the chopsticks out and going for Sam's box.

They were well into dinner, relaxing and laughing, when the door swung open and Benny sauntered in. Castiel came behind him.

Dean froze with Mushu pork halfway to his lips.

"Look who I found on the road," Benny said, clapping Castiel on the shoulder. "Thought I'd bring him for dinner."

Everyone enthusiastically agreed, and Dean shoved the pork into his mouth. He hadn't seen Castiel in the morning, but hadn't worried about it. Castiel had always been the kind to wander where he liked, hiking all over the countryside, and Dean had long since stopped worrying about his roaming best friend.

Mostly.

Castiel was given the seat on Dean's right, answering the clamor of questions as Benny grabbed another chair. Even Tara seemed pleased to see him, and Tara was never happy to see anyone.

Once he'd been given a box, chopsticks, and a cookie, people mostly left him alone. Dean waited until the chatter had started again before leaning over and saying a little reluctantly, "Sorry about last night. I was... It was bad. I'm sorry."

"It's fine," Castiel said quietly, picking at some rice. "I understand that you were stressed."

"We'll need to talk later," Dean said quietly. Castiel nodded, eyes still on his food. Dean went back to his.

All of a minute later, Castiel said, "How do I get to Prospect status?"