Chapter Text
One
Dean Winchester sat in a corner booth at Harvelle’s Roadhouse, hunched over various PADDs, textbooks and notepads with pages of scribbled notes. The scene it painted was one which was usually attributed to the younger Winchester brother. But not this time. It was the evening before the biggest exam of Dean’s life: the Starfleet Academy Entrance Exam, a test he’d spent the last four weeks of his life determinedly studying for. And if he was to be completely honest, it was a test he’d only ever dreamed of preparing for.
Ever since he could remember, Dean had dreamed of becoming a Starfleet engineer. His prize and joy was the Chevrolet Impala he had inherited from his father and the engineering in the car had captivated his attention in much the same way law did with his brother. He’d spent endless hours working on the vehicle, taking her apart and reassembling her in a way which was more efficient. Dean understood the mechanics and engineering that went into the machine and he’d hoped of taking that understanding to the mighty starships that his father would speak about so dotingly. John only ever wanted Dean to be a captain though. Every time he’d returned on shore leave, he’d tell Dean this. Over and over and over again, until it was ingrained in Dean’s mind as the only possible career option: Starship Captain Dean Winchester. The only option that would make John proud. And Dean would work on the Impala, tweaking her further still towards the peak of perfection and the dream of becoming something else faded until it was just that: a dream.
But not anymore. Dream was finally becoming reality. Dean smiled to himself and stretched his neck from side to side. He paused in his revision and thought back to the evening at the Roadhouse that he’d allowed himself to be convinced of pursuing his dream.
~ *XX* ~
It was a usual night at Harvelle’s Roadhouse. Dean flung the towel he’d been using to dry dishes onto a bench and looked around at the place he called home. The retro styled saloon bar wasn’t packed, with only a few regulars, a new couple in a back booth and one Bobby Singer at the bar. Dean smiled contently and watched as Ellen Harvelle placed a beer and coaster in front of the older man.
“Always good to have you back, Bobby,” she said with a smile.
“Good to be back,” Bobby replied, raising the glass in her direction before taking a long drink.
“How long you in town for?”
“Just a couple of days. They need me to do my recruitment shtick out at Des Moines and then I'm back to the Academy before collection.”
“That’ll be fun,” Ellen said mildly and Bobby huffed in a sarcastic sort of way.
“So how are you, Dean?” Bobby asked in his gruff, yet warm voice. “Keeping out of trouble?”
“I try, sir,” he said.
“Don’t you ‘sir’ me,” scolded Bobby. “I've known you since before you could walk.” Dean was cut off from replying with a cheeky ‘yes, sir’ by Bobby’s next question. “And how’s your bother doing?”
Dean glanced over to where Sam Winchester was huddled in a corner, reading. His face was lit by the faint glow of the PADD he held and even from a distance Dean could see the creases of concentration that wrinkled his face. He inwardly smiled. Sam had been successfully accepted into Starfleet Academy a month earlier and yet still insisted on reading and studying, though there was no real need. Only Sam, Dean thought, would find intergalactic law and ethics fascinating enough to spend his free time reading about it. With a sudden pang, he realised he was going to miss him when he left.
“He’s good,” Dean said with a fond smile, turning back to Bobby. “Looking forward to Academy life.”
“Good, good,” Bobby murmured before taking a final drink and placing an empty glass back on the bar.
“Another usual, Bobby?” Ellen asked.
“Thanks,” he said.
“Dean, could you get this for me?” Ellen gestured to the tray of drinks. “Table two by the window.”
Dean nodded and went to deliver the drinks. Working for Ellen was the only payment she’d accept for taking both him and Sam in after their mother’s death. And Dean was more than happy to do it. He got along well with Ash and Jo and was content to live his life here. No matter what was discovered in space and no matter how far the human race evolved, they’d always need someone to serve the drinks. Placing the drinks down and receiving a nod of thanks, Dean headed back to the bar.
Jo Harvelle, Ellen’s daughter stood by the old-styled jukebox changing the record. “Hey, noREO Speedwagon!” he called over to her. She turned with a flick of her long blonde hair and gave him a brief unimpressed look before offering him a mocking smile.
“You know, sweetheart, I just can’t fight this feeling any longer,” Jo said, her voice dangerously charming. “This feeling I have to hit you over the head with your serving tray.”
Ash laughed and patted Dean on the shoulder in sympathy. “Take the hit, dude. Though not literally.” Dean rolled his eyes and then winked over at Jo, who delicately raised her middle finger at him.
“Joanna Beth!” Ellen’s warning voice rang out and Jo hastily lowered her hand before walking back towards the bar.
“Yes, mum.”
Ellen gave her a chastising look and Jo simply nodded and got back to work. Dean’s victory grin only faded when Ellen turned her look on him and he went over to sit back at the bar with Bobby instead, feeling only slightly like a naughty child.
“I’ll be back in a month’s time to pick up your brother,” Bobby said, studying Dean as he sat down.
“I know,” Dean said. He then frowned at the older man’s expression. “What are you implying?”
“I know you’ve always wanted to be an engineer.”
Dean scoffed, suddenly wishing he had a beer to drink or something to fiddle with. So, it had come back to this again, the ‘You-should-join-Starfleet-Dean; do-something-for-yourself’ speech. Dean had been through this multiple times in the past year, like it was some sort of campaign that Sam had roped the others into joining. “Not anymore.”
“You know there’s another entrance exam coming up,” Bobby continued, seeing through Dean’s lie or simply ignoring it. “You can still apply.” He raised a knowing eyebrow at Dean.
Dean shrugged and reached up to rub the back of his neck with a small sigh, unable to convey his thoughts and feelings. “Uh.... I’m good here,” he finally said, knowing how pathetic it sounded. “Besides,” he gave a tight smile. “Wouldn’t want to cramp Sammy’s style now would I?”
“You wouldn’t be cramping my style!” Sam said and Dean flinched. He hadn’t heard his brother leave his secluded reading spot and join them all at the bar. Jo and Ash had joined them in the past few moments also.
“You need a bell,” Dean said.
“Don’t change the subject,” Sam replied. “You should look into applying.”
“Sam,” Dean began to protest.
“He’s right,” Ellen said and everyone turned to look at her. “What happened to the little boy I knew who spent all his time fiddling around with that car.”
“You told me once you wanted to be an engineer,” Jo added, her voice soft. “You should take the chance.”
“Stop,” Dean held up his hands. “Just stop. You’re all being... just no. There’s no way I’d ever get in. People spend months, even years studying just for the entrance exam. I can’t cram that into four weeks. They’d never accept me.”
“You’re already ahead of those who have to do that, Dean,” Bobby said. “You learnt a lot from your parents and you’ve seen Sam go through the process. It would be a tough four weeks studying; I ain’t gonna sugar coat it. But you should be good.”
Dean blinked at him. “You’re joking, right?” He looked around at the all, an unbelieving grin on his face. “You’re all joking, right?”
“I’m a recruitment officer and head of Education Services at the goddamn Academy, you idjit,” Bobby said. “You think I’m joking?”
“No,” Dean said instantly.
“Dean,” Sam began and something in his voice made Dean turn and look at him. “Just because dad wanted you to become a captain, doesn’t mean you have to throw away every other dream you’ve had.”
“Sam!” Dean hissed, his face reddening. “Don’t-”
“It’s true,” Sam firmly cut Dean off.
“You’ve got to start doing things for yourself, boy,” Bobby said, his tone implying a concealed ‘grow a pair!’
“But,”
“No ‘buts’ Dean,” Sam said, his tall frame bristling with frustration. “You always do this. You put people ahead of yourself. Even dad and he’s gone."
Dean said nothing. He wanted to get out of there and away from all the people staring at him, expecting God-knows-what of him. They were right, of course. Engineering was his dream and maybe he’d forgotten it and put everything else ahead but it was still there in the back of his mind. He hadn’t dared to dream. But maybe that was okay now, he found himself suddenly thinking. He looked around at all their pleading, kind faces. They all wanted the best for him. And he knew they wouldn’t back down, be it tonight or in a year’s time when the next batch of cadets were accepted.
“Dean...” Sam’s voice had taken on a pleading tone.
“Fine,” Dean said, cutting him off and giving them all a small smile. “I’ll think about it.”
~ *XX* ~
Thinking about it hadn’t taken Dean very long, even if he wouldn’t admit that out loud. It had been years since he had allowed himself to dream about his own life. But since that night, he’d hardly thought about anything else. That dream had been sparked back into life. Red wasn’t really his colour, but all Dean could see now was himself in gleaming Academy reds and then a shining red Starfleet uniform with a badge declaring him chief engineer (of course, he knew the likelihood of that outcome was close to zero). Not much later then, Dean found himself submitting an enrolment and booking a spot in the last admissions test for the semester. And now, at nine pm the evening before the exam, he sat writing out notes and being distracted by reminiscences.
Dean had just re-focussed on a hyperspace physics practice question, when a great shadow fell over him. “How’s the study going?” Sam said, flinging his large form into the seat beside his brother.
Dean ignored him in favour of writing out the formula needed to solve the question. When he finished he looked up and leaned back, stretching the kinks out of his neck and back. He let out a moan as his spine cracked and popped in a tension-releasing way. “It’s fine, Sammy,” he said eventually.
“Want me to quiz you on anything?”
Shaking his head, Dean leaned forward. “I’m good. ‘Sides, you can’t really quiz me for that psych test.”
Sam pulled a face in agreement. “And hey, stop calling me Sammy. I’m not a kid anymore.”
“You love it and you know it,” Dean grinned, enticing a deadpanned look from his brother. There was a moment of silence before Sam spoke again. The way he spoke, in a light, overly-casual tone, made Dean realise he’d been wanting to say this for a while.
“So, you’re still going for engineering then?”
“Ah... yeah. Why?”
“Just, you know... asking,” Sam said and Dean saw right through his innocent tone.
“Is this about dad, Sam? ‘Cause if it is, just spit it out already.”
“I... You know you shouldn’t feel bad about not wanting to become a captain. That was dad’s dream, not yours.”
Dean had to restrain himself from an outburst. “I know,” he managed.
“Dean...”
“I dunno, okay!” Dean squirmed slightly, out of awkwardness and frustration at Sam asking this. “It’s like; I don’t want to let his memory down. I feel like I should obey his wishes, even more so now that he’s gone.”
“That’s bullshit,” Sam said flatly. “You’ve spent your whole life saying that he’s as good as dead to us. Why are you suddenly all about respecting his wishes?”
“Because this is the only thing he ever wanted of me!” said Dean, his voice rising in anger. “My clearest memories of dad are him telling me how I was going to grow up and become a famous captain just like he was. Sometime’s that’s all I can remember. And I...” he paused and glanced up at Sam who gave him an encouraging sort of look. “And fine, yes. I feel guilty. Guilty at not following his plan for me, you know.”
“You need to stop feeling guilty,” Sam said.
Dean snorted derisively. “Easier said than done, Sammy.”
“I know,” Sam admitted. “But listen to me. Dad’s not around anymore. You should start doing things for yourself. A Starfleet engineer is still a worthy career path. And if you don’t feel up to doing things for yourself just yet, do it for me. I want to see you happy.” Sam smiled and reached over to squeeze his brother’s hand. “I mean it.”
“Thanks,” Dean smiled, somewhat reluctantly. “And I’ll try.” Then, he wriggled his hand free of Sam’s and shot him an annoyed look. “But hey, no more girly moments, okay.”
Sam rolled his eyes. “Sure you don’t need some help with final studying?”
“Nah,” Dean said, leaning back. “I’m pretty much prepared to fail.”
“Come on, Dean. Don’t be like that. I know you’re smart and I know you’ve worked hard these past few weeks.”
“I was joking.”
Narrowing his eyes, Sam studied his brother. To all appearances, Dean looked fine. But Sam knew him well enough to see the fear and worry lining his face and darkening his eyes. He gave his older brother a warm smile. “Either way, I know you’re going to be fine.” Dean just nodded before leaning forward again to go over his notes.
In the end, Sam was right of course. Dean passed the admissions tests with flying colours, even the psychological test which was dreaded by every applicant. It was that one Dean had worried about most. The death of his mother and his father’s actions following it had scarred him and there was no doubt in his mind that it would haunt him for years to come. Perhaps he’d never get closure. Despite this however, he’d passed, and the grin that plastered his face stayed there for almost a week.
It was official: Dean Winchester was going to Starfleet Academy.