Chapter Text
The yellow glow of the streetlights thinned out the further he drove, until the world outside the impala was swallowed by the surrounding void of country roads. The steady sweep of the headlights carving a narrow path through the darkness.
Dean kept his hand tight on the wheel, knuckles pale, silence in the passenger seat made the music he was blasting seem smaller, almost like it knew not to fill the space. Sam was gone.
Still, Dean kept driving. Only this time he had a destination in mind. Muscle memory helping him along, helping him to one of the few places he calls home: Camp Half-Blood.
Road beginning to narrow the further he drove. Trees began appearing till he was deep in the surrounding forest. Branches arching overhead causing the moonlight to peek through almost as if it to was trying to hide. The headlights slicing through, catching glimpses of tree trunks and underbrush that disappear as fast they appeared. Out here was his option to hide but even now the world felt too quiet, too watchful.
Slowly the trees began to thin. The road sloped upward, opening onto a hill crowned with an ancient pine, its silhouette cutting against the night sky. Dean had made it.
The pine tree loomed closer, the air shifting the second the impala crossed that invisible line. Dean felt it immediately, like pushing through water, thick, heavy and cool, that feeling rushed over his skin before breaking apart in a flood of warmth. Comfort, that’s what it was. It was old, familiar, the kind of magic that usually made him panic but now it pricked the edges of his senses and tugged at something buried deep inside. Home. For better or for worse, Camp Half-Blood still felt like home. Not the home he was told to go to but the one he needed to go to.
Seeing the familiar arch, he barely had time to breathe it in before figures spilled out from the shadows. A few new campers, young, on guard patrols, bows raised eyes sharp. The impala’s rumble acting as the perfect announcement of his presence, enough to make them nervous. Enough to make them question, what kind of monster can get through the barrier and drives a car?
Stopping in something of a clear area, Dean killed the engine. Then stepped out, hands lifted halfway in that don’t mean any harm gesture he’d mastered over the years. “Easy, kids,” he muttered, voice rough but steady.
“Step away from the vehicle,” one of them ordered, both arrow and eyes trained on him.
Dean’s jaw clenched. He didn’t move, but before he could say anything, a voice cut through the tension. Confident, sharp, and all too familiar.
“Stand down.”
From the shadows of the tree line, Kai Graves emerged, their presence carrying the kind of authority that stilled the group instantly. That’s a change from the quiet, introverted kid they were before. They strode forward, eyes locked on Dean. For a second, the years fell away, it was like they were back on the battlefield looking for a way out. Not like Kai had actually aged anyway. Dean looked into that mirror, their presence carrying one that knew him too well.
Kai’s blank expression faded into a hint of a smile. “Relax, he’s not a threat.” Their gaze softened, just for Dean. “Welcome back, Winchester.”
That made Dean freeze for half a second, the words sinking in. Welcome back. It wasn’t something he’d heard in a long time. His mouth twitched, somewhere between a smirk and a grimace. His hands dropping to his sides.
“Guess word travels fast,” Dean muttered, glancing at the bows still pointed his way.
Kai stepped closer, giving the younger campers a sharp look until they lowered their weapons. “Not fast enough. They should have known you weren’t a threat when you passed the barrier. No monsters can get through.”
Dean let out a short, humorous laugh. “Yeah, well. Been a while since I punched that ticket.” His eyes flicked over the camp sprawled beyond the hill, the cabins glowing faintly in the dark. For a moment the weight in his chest eased, then his eyes caught the impala and then it hit again. The empty seat. The ignored promise.
Kai must have seen it, because their expression softened, the confidence slipping just enough to show something real. “I heard,” they said quietly. “About your brother.”
Dean’s jaw tightened. He looked down, swallowing hard. “Not much to hear. He’s gone. End of story.”
Kai tilted their head, watching him closely.
Something in Dean’s chest twisted. His head snapped up to meet Kai’s. Eyes narrowed, suspicion creeping in. “Wait a sec. How the hell did you even know about Sam?”
Kai didn’t flinch, expecting this. “Word doesn’t travel on its own.”
Dean stepped in closer, shoulders tense. “Then who told you?”
For the first time, Kai’s voice softened, almost a whisper. “Cas.”
Hearing the name hit harder than Dean expected. His throat worked, but no words came out at first. Just the image of Cas coming to see Kai. To warn them of his state, the grief he might of held, and his wings pulling him away from the God, away from him, and back to heaven.
Dean finally muttered, “Figures. Angel’s always had a big mouth.” He tried to play it off with a smirk, but it didn’t quite land. Not like it would’ve worked with Kai.
Still though, Kai didn’t press. They just rested a hand on Dean’s shoulder, solid, grounding. “He came here because he wanted me to be ready. He knew you’d find your way back eventually. Even if you didn’t.”
Dean let out a rough breath, somewhere between a scoff and a laugh. “Yeah? Guess he’s got more faith in me than I do.”
Kai’s mouth curved into that sharp, knowing half smile. “He probably always will.”