tigriswolf | patchwork drapery of dreams - SN fic

Title: patchwork drapery of dreams

Fandom: “Supernatural”

Disclaimer: not my characters; just for fun. Title from Marilyn Nelson.

Warnings: spoilers for up “The Kids Are Alright”; future!fic

Pairings: Hendrickson/OFC

Rating: PG13

Wordcount: 1535

Point of view: third

Dedication: to my newest cousin, born at 9:33 this morning(Dec 20). Welcome to the world, lovie!

It’s been ten years since that fiasco in Arkansas, the most embarrassing night of his life, and Victor hasn’t thought about those escape-artists in half a decade. He got reassigned, got new obsessions, and even reconnected with Marissa, his wife.

So when Collins calls him and says, “Hendrickson, we got one of your red-flags,” Victor doesn’t immediately think about Dean and Sam Winchester.

The kid’s not even twenty, but looking at him is like staring back in time. His mom’s standing beside his hospital bed, spitting fire, not letting anyone close enough to touch.

“What the fuck is going on?” Lisa Braedon demands, and Victor can see why a wild man like Dean Winchester would be attracted to her. “The FBI?”

“Ma’am,” Collins says kindly, trying to placate her. “It’s a misunderstanding. We just need to speak with you about your son’s father.”

She rolls her eyes. “I haven’t seen him since Ben’s conception. Now, get out of this room.”

Collins nods, attempting to charm her. She glares. Victor watches the boy, who hasn’t spoken once; Ben meets his eyes, and it’s déjà vu—he looks exactly like his father, like that smartass murderer Victor had slip through his fingers twice in a span of months.

“Her story checks out,” Collins tells him. “Twenty year old kid, wild weekend with some guy she met at a party—no record of Winchester ever visiting at all. He probably doesn’t even know he has a son.”

“He knows,” Victor counters. “He just doesn’t care.”

There’s no reason to watch over the Braedons, but Victor does. There hasn’t been any hint of the Winchester brothers in almost nine years, but now that Victor’s been given a new lead, he can’t let it go.

Ben’s a freshman at college, engineering major. He excels at math and chemistry, plays in a band on the weekends—lead guitar and singer. Never in trouble. Always the center of attention.

He’s six foot one, dark hair, hazel eyes. And he’s so much like Dean Winchester, Victor wants to pick him up just to keep the public safe from whatever’s lurking in his genetic code.

But months pass. Victor is given a new case, a major one, and Ben Braedon slips his mind.

When he checks back in, at the start of the new year, Ben’s gone without a trace, and Lisa refuses to answer any questions, eyes dark and forbidding, refusing to let Victor in the door.

“Road trip,” Lisa’s closest friend says. “With a relative of his dad’s.”

Victor feels a surge of triumph go through him. Finally. He knew those Winchesters weren’t dead and gone, no matter what the department said.

They’re hard to track, Ben and his partner, and Victor doesn’t catch up until nearly June. But Ben’s still learning, and gets himself caught in Montana, breaking into a funeral parlor. Luckily, Victor had been visiting with Marissa’s parents, otherwise he’d have never gotten there in time to see Sam Winchester charming his way into an interrogation room with Ben.

Over ten years since he saw Sam Winchester up close, but he recognizes him instantly. “Freeze!” he yells, pulling his gun, aiming it straight at Sam’s head.

Sam turns, glances over his shoulder, holding his hands out. His lips curve, but Victor knows it’s not a smile.

“Agent Hendrickson,” he says. The officers react, all following Victor’s lead. Sam’s eyes roam the room but he doesn’t move.

“Where’s your brother?” Victor asks. Dean’s the one he really wants, the one he’s always wanted.

Sam’s gaze returns to Victor. “You’ll never catch him,” he says, little brother glee threading the words. “No matter where you look, or for how long.”

“Agent,” one of the officers asks quietly. “What’s going on?”

“Cuff him,” Victor directs. “Never leave him alone. I need to make a call.”

They keep Ben and Sam apart, by Victor’s orders. He knows that’s how the brothers had always escaped; no reason to give uncle and nephew the same chance.

Victor tells Marissa to head on home without him; he’ll be tied up at work for a long while. He’s not letting either of those two out of his sight until they’re in jail for the rest of their lives.

Well, not Ben. He’s just begun, after all. He may have a future, yet. But Sam? His record speaks for itself.

All the old evidence is brought back out. Everything is gone over. Ben doesn’t speak to anyone, and all Sam ever does is ask for coffee, black. Victor makes his case, hands everything over to the DA, and there’s nothing else he can do. But he doesn’t want to go home, doesn’t want to turn his back, because he knows Sam will find a way out again.

He’d always thought Dean was the mastermind, but he’s figured out it’s really Sam. Even if Dean was the killer, Sam was the one who actually led the way.

And now he’s leading Dean’s son.

“We can help you,” the state-appointed shrink says gently, eyes sympathetic and kind. “Whatever your uncle has told you, you don’t need to fear us.”

Ben is sullen, eyes dark and hooded, and he scoffs.

“Ben,” the shrink tries again, reaching out to touch his arm; he pulls away, folding his arms across his chest. She clasps her hands instead. “We’ve seen the bruises, Ben,” she continues, unperturbed by his reaction. “We know he hurts you.”

Ben shakes his head. “You don’t know a damn thing,” he mutters, then raises his eyes to meet hers. “Ma’am.”

Victor turns off the tape he shouldn’t be watching and sighs.

Victor’s out to lunch with the shrink, Dr. Zoey Dresden, discussing Ben’s chances, when he gets the call.

“Agent,” the officer says, sounding like a kid that just broke Mama’s favorite lamp. “Um… Winchester and Braedon…”

Victor rubs his hand across his face. “Let me guess,” he says. “They’re gone.”

“Yes, sir,” the kid responds. “Just... gone. Out of two locked cells on opposite sides of the jail.”

Victor just nods, not surprised in the least. It’d always been a matter of time.

They place a watch on Lisa Braedon, of course, but Victor doesn’t expect much to come of it. He talks to that same obliging friend from last time, but she just clucks at how sad it is, poor Ben getting on the wrong side of the law.

“Always such a nice boy. You know, my Katie’s had a crush on him since they were eight years old?” She shakes her head and Victor nods sympathetically.

It’s a waste of time, going back to Cicero, but it’s the only lead they have.

So Victor heads home, makes love to his wife, barbeques for dinner, and tries to ignore what being defeated feels like.

He gets a call, four months down the line, from a number he doesn’t recognize. He answers, “Hendrickson” and freezes when he hears Sam Winchester’s voice say, “Hey, Vic.”

“You want somethin’, Winchester?” he asks, keeping his voice steady only by pure, iron will.

“Ben’s goin’ home. I’ll turn myself in—and let you keep me—if ya’ll leave him alone.” Far as Victor can tell, he’s sincere.

“That’s not a deal I’m authorized to make,” Victor tells him, scrabbling from his cellphone to call in a trace.

“You talk to your superiors, Agent Hendrickson,” Sam says, the words deep and dark. “I’ll be in touch.”

Sam gets the deal. Victor’s hailed as a hero. But he knows Sam’s just playing them all, letting Ben have his life. He knows that Sam could vanish at any time, and he still doesn’t understand how.

He visits once a month, just to see if Sam is still there. Sam doesn’t make trouble in the prison, keeps to himself. The first week there, some idiots tried to jump him.

No one’s tried since.

Victor asks questions that Sam never answers. There are already half a dozen screenplays written about the Winchester brothers, about their spree, about the older and how he just disappeared. All Sam ever does is smirk and lean back in the chair, arms crossed, requesting coffee, black.

It pisses Victor off.

Marissa tells him they’re taking a trip to Florida or getting a divorce. Victor uses up all of his accumulated vacation time and goes. He spends three weeks beneath the sun, reconnecting with the love of his life(again), remembering just how much fun can be had when he lets his worries go.

It’s the best three weeks of his life, and he forgets about work, about dangerous men who could escape at any moment.

He gets to the office the Wednesday he returns from Florida and learns that Sam Winchester vanished from the prison.

“Go pick up Ben Braedon,” he orders. “Maybe havin’ him’ll force Winchester back.”

“He’s gone too, sir,” another agent says. “And the mother.”

Victor rubs a hand across his face. “Damnit.”

None of them are ever found, no matter how Victor searches. It’s the case that haunts him, even years down the road.

But he has Marissa, other cases, brothers and a sister he hasn’t seen in so long… it’s hard, but he forces himself to let it go.

patchwork drapery of dreams - SN fic - PG13

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