Brother's Keeper | ch. 1
summary: when supernatural forces result in the disappearance of her brother, carmen is introduced to the world of things that go bump in the night–and the men who hunt them, sam and dean winchester. being instructed to call upon the eldest monster-hunter should trouble come knocking, carmen makes the call, and her world is turned upside down.
author's note: pls excuse any mistakes! thanks for reading XD
ao3 link + prologue
dividers: cafekitsune
“Hey, hey, hey! Whoa, dude,” Dean said, moving quickly to slap Sam’s hand away from the radio dial. “House rules, you know this.”
Sam sighed and sat back in the passenger seat. He was still adjusting to being around his brother 24/7 and had purposefully forgotten his love for Led Zeppelin.
“You’ve played this song four times now. We get it. You’re ramblin’ on.”
“What can I say, Sammy, good music deserves to be heard,” he snorted, turning up the volume in the sleek Impala.
The boys were headed to touch base with Bobby in South Dakota after forcing a poltergeist across the veil in Arkansas. Their time together began with an agreement to find their father, but as time passed with no end in sight, and the death of Sam’s girlfriend, Jess, they returned to running the family business together. Saving people and hunting things.
Unlike his brother, Dean had trouble imagining a life away from dingy motels, credit card scams, long drives, and slaying monsters. He lived his whole life in the shadow of the legacy his father had built; he grew up quickly, forced to leave childhood behind and reckon with the harsh reality that the world was composed of evils most people couldn’t even dream of.
His militant father and traumatic upbringing instilled in him a sense of obligation to take fate into his own hands if it meant saving people’s lives. He was no stranger to selflessness in the name of hunting and searching for his father’s approval through his trade. Ever since he could remember, he had wanted just once for his father to acknowledge his skill and dedication. With his disappearance, he feared that the opportunity would be snatched from him, which is why it was his mission to find him and finally prove that he was capable.
Gripping the steering wheel tight, Dean had the volume blasting as a means of distracting himself from the ultimate task at hand: reuniting with his father. He would never tell Sam, or anyone for that matter, but he was scared. Scared he wasn’t good enough to find his father, scared that one of them would die before he had a chance to. Scared Sam would leave again.
A fear of failure and loss shaped his entire life. Luckily for him, he thrived under the conditions those feelings created and used them to be the best hunter he could be.
As he drove, the sounds of Led Zeppelin and Black Sabbath faded away to the point that all he could hear and feel was the rumble of his Impala pushing 70 on a back road. It was only the high-pitched ringing of his cell phone that brought his attention back to the present. Glancing over at the passenger seat to find Sam asleep, head resting against the window, Dean wondered how long he had been zoned out. He didn’t ponder over it long, though, and when he answered the phone, the person on the other end sounded like they had completely lost their bearings.
“H-hi, I’m looking for a Dean…Winchester,” Dean’s grip on the steering wheel tightened again, and he could feel the grooves of the wheel making impressions on his clammy hand.
“Well, you got him, how can I help you?” This could be about dad, he thought.
“Um, okay. Good. Um, this is—”
“Spit it out, sweetheart.” he was impatient, and whoever was on the other line was growing more and more frantic.
The caller sighed deeply before spilling out a tangle of words: “I’m Taj Brown’s sister. He’s missing, and he told me to call this number if I were in trouble. I can’t find him.”
Sitting up straighter, Dean was silent for a moment.
“I’m on the way” was all he said before hanging up.
Some time later, he had finally found a gas station and pulled up to a pump before quickly getting out and fiddling with his wallet. As he exited the car, the slam of the door shook Sam awake.
“We stopping already?” he said with a yawn, opening his own door and getting out to stretch his long limbs, oblivious to the quickness of his brother’s movements.
Dean said nothing as he made his way inside, and Sam followed, still waking up his body as he made his way to the back of the store to the cooler, looking for a bottle of water and a snack or two. As he took his time browsing, looking for something with at least some nutritional value, Dean had paid for gas and now stood at the pump, thinking.
Closing the gas cap and placing the pump back in the holder, he felt a rush of anxiety. What did you do, Taj?
Dean’s mind was racing with possibilities. He knew about the deal Taj made with the crossroads demon, but that was 12 years ago now, she was late on collecting her dues, which could mean one of three things: some one had killed the son of a bitch, there really was a loophole in Taj shaking on the deal rather than sealing it with a kiss (which, such a mistake could lead us back to number one if someone more powerful had found out) but then that would lead to possibility number three—someone higher up had dibs on the deal and liked to play with their food.
In the car now, waiting for Sam to come out of the store, he thought back to the moment Taj had told him about his predicament and his worries for his little sister.
— Flashback, 2 years ago —
“Look, I know it was stupid, and that we don’t know each other very well, but older brother to older brother, please—” Dean cut him off with the wave of his hand.
“You don’t even have to ask, man. Lookin’ out for her is the least I could do.” It was true. Thanks to Taj, Dean had been given his biggest break yet in the hunt for his father. He owed him a lot for his hours of research and willingness to help a stranger.
— Present day —
Taj Brown. He was well on his way to being known in their world as Bobby’s understudy. A nice guy from Texas who had spent the past decade studying the supernatural. He almost knew more than Dean himself, who had been hunting since he was a child. Almost.
Dean and Taj had met two years ago through Bobby, who had told Dean to pay him a visit for a lead on finding John. Taj knew a little about a lot of things and had come into contact with Bobby by pure chance years earlier. Bobby trusted and thought highly of him, so of course, Dean could only think the same.
Taj was a restless and dedicated scholar; that much was obvious. He had come to realize the world that existed beneath the surface by accident years ago and had dedicated himself to monster research since then. It was impressive how much he had learned and written about in such a short time.
As the Dean sat mulling over his interactions with Taj and what could’ve happened to him, he didn’t even notice Sam was back in the car.
“Uh, you okay, man?” Sam asked after hitting Dean on the shoulder. He had come back with two bags of snacks from inside, on water and an apple, for himself, and gotten a few Lil’ Debbie’s and a soda for Dean.
“Yeah, and change of plans, we’re going to Texas.” Putting the car in gear, the two headed for the Lone Star State.
— Carmen’s POV —
After Dean hung up, I didn’t know what to do with myself. I couldn’t decide whether to sit and wait or make myself busy doing something, anything. I inhaled as deeply as I could and held my breath for a few seconds before releasing a puff of air in an attempt to calm my nerves.
With heavy feet, I made my way to the corner of the living room, where my stereo stood. I couldn’t remember the last time I had turned this thing on since saving my tips from Tina’s to buy myself an MP3 player. I remember the pride I felt at buying it. I couldn’t wait to show Taj; it was my first “big” purchase.
I smiled to myself as I bent slightly to browse through the glass CD holder next to the stereo. I was on the hunt for something cheery, but as I looked, I couldn’t decide on what to pick. Growing impatient at the polarizing music selection on the small shelf, I decided to plug the system in to see if there was a CD already queued from the last time I had used it.
The little screen read: Track 9. I shrugged my shoulders before pressing the play button. The opening sounds of Erykah Badu’s ‘4 Leaf Clover’ filled the space, and I stood letting the music wrap around me like a hug. How ironic that a song about love and luck would find me at a time like this.
As the album continued to play, I mustered up the strength to tidy up the place. I decided to keep myself busy rather than wait around for some stranger to knock on my door. While sweeping the short hallway that led to the bedrooms of my parents’ house, I realized something. How the hell would Dean know this address?
The thought made me stop my sweeping motions and stand with one hand on my hip and another atop the tip of the broom. I thought about calling him back and asking how or if he had our address, but in the end decided against it. Something was telling me to calm my nerves and trust that whatever happened to Taj did not find him unprepared. All of the necessary arrangements had to be made. That’s just how Taj worked, always looking a million miles ahead, prepared for anything. The thought that he could still be alive was enough in this moment to keep me grounded, so I resumed my cleaning.
Before I knew it, it was dark outside, and I had played Baduizm more times than I cared to count. ‘4 Leaf Clover’ had come on again, and just as I made my way to turn the stereo off, there was a loud banging on the front door.
Pausing with my hand raised to the stereo, my face had screwed up almost immediately as I turned to look at the clock. It was well past any decent hour for this kind of noise. As I fixed my voice to yell, it hit me, Dean. And he did have the address. I rushed to the door and opened it to two tall, tired-looking men in the doorway.
Before I could say anything, the shorter one brushed past me and into the living room and started looking around. “You must be Carmen,” he said, peering behind the couch and squatting to run his hand along the baseboards in the square room.
The taller man smiled apologetically and then introduced himself as Sam.
“That is my brother, Dean.”
“How fitting,” I said, “Dean sounds a lot like asshole.”
I stood with my arms crossed as Same chuckled, stepping further into the house and closing the door behind him. Dean wasted no time, turning the music off and turning to me. “Tell us everything,” He spoke dismissively, continuing his search toward the kitchen.
“First of all, Dean, yes. I am Carmen, Taj’s sister.” I was hot on his tail, brows scrunched, not caring about the angry look on my face.
“And second of all, I hope you know you’re rude as hell barging up in here like that. I don’t even know you—matter of fact, answer my questions first; how do you know my brother?” His attitude threw me off a great deal, but I guess I should’ve known, with how our phone conversation went, that he’d be unpleasant to say the least.
Signaling to Sam, who was entering the kitchen from the hallway, he sighed before looking at me. “Sorry ‘bout that,” he cleared his throat. “Your brother and me, and I go back a bit; he was helping me find someone.” The way he spoke shifted the energy in the room. Sam became tense, looking down at his feet as if he were ashamed or angry.
“Find who?” I asked, crossing my arms and shifting my weight to one hip. As far as I knew, Taj wasn’t a detective.
Dean cleared his throat again, “Doesn’t matter now. How long has Taj been missing?” his changing of the subject made me narrow my eyes at him, and I ignored the obvious questions lingering between me, him, and Sam for Taj’s sake.
I recounted everything from the last three weeks, how Taj didn’t come home, didn’t call, and how no one in town seemed to care.
“Carmen, what all do you know about your brother’s work?” Dean asked, with his hands in his jacket pockets and his head tilted slightly to one side, almost looking at the ground.
“He’s a history buff, folklore, mythology, and other stuff, I’m sure. He wants to be a professor one day. What’s that got to do with anything? he could be dead.” I was starting to lose my patience and rolled my eyes as I spoke to Dean, looking between him and Sam as a silence ensued.
“Um, you’re gonna wanna sit down,” Sam said, gesturing toward a table chair.
Oh fuck. What did you do, Taj? was my only thought as I slowly sat down, pulse quickening.
