It's a SPN Gen AU, based around Casablanca. It’s not necessary to have seen that movie though. John showed up to get Sam during the Stanford fire and Jessica's death. They run off together and leave Dean behind. Dean looks for them and eventually finds his way to the Roadhouse - and this is where the story picks up.
It's just...everyone is so sexy and bad-ass in this story. Each character is true to themselves, with just the tiniest bit of difference of how they would handle the events of this storyline and their relationships with each other. The plot is fantastic and the depth I got out of it is about the choices we make when faced with the heavy decisions - with just the underlining bit of "the family we're given and the family we make" going with it.
Basically - they abandoned Dean and he found Ellen and Victor and then Sam comes back and now what will Dean do? Fight or bury his head? Resist or Serve? Plus, you get some different POVs, along with Sam and Dean's.
That doesn’t even really do it justice, but here -
He pasted a smile on his face and stepped forward. She could stick one of those pointy high-heeled shoes right up his ass and he’d thank her for the privilege so long as it got him out of the damn cornfield.
Victor turned to Cal, whose eyes were wide in his bruise-mottled face. “You hold down the fort. I’m going to get some fucking answers.”
Cal nodded, and Victor spun away, gun still out. He stalked out of the building. He was done with being played a fool.
“You look like hell, Agent Reid,” Victor said as he came around the desk, pulling out and setting Reid’s coffee beside him.
Cal grinned, the smile tugging at the split in his upper lip. “Not all of us are as pretty as you, Agent Henricksen,” he quipped before taking a sip of his offering.
Victor pounded on the door, and wrenched at the doorknob, but the screams never stopped. He slammed his shoulder into the door, but nothing gave.
He stepped back and let Cal kick, his partner’s foot dead on target, the force enough to break down the shoddy frame, but there was no effect. Victor pulled his gun as Cal stepped back, drawing his own weapon and taking a flanking position.
Jo opened her mouth to ask him what was wrong but the words wouldn’t come out. For all of her bravado she felt a sudden, deep certainty that there were some things she shouldn’t know, even if he would share them.
And she couldn’t help but feel that this was her fault. She’d brought Sam here, she’d been the one stuck up her own ass over all of that Resistance bullcrap; like she was goddamn Princess Leia, or something. Her mom had been right, she’d been playing with fire.
Excellent. You can make me some pie while you’re back there.” Dean winked as he smoothly maneuvered himself around to her side of the bar.
“Boy, the back of your head is begging to be slapped. You’re just lucky that my hands are full.” Ellen pushed through the swinging door into the kitchen on a peal of Dean’s laughter. She was still grinning as she started to unload the grocery bags.
“You all have ten seconds to get the fuck out of my bar or I’m gonna start aiming before I shoot. Get!” She yelled and pumped the shotgun ominously.
“Since nobody’s in right now, you can hang out with me and watch some boob tube, if you want,” Ash said as he affixed the panel seamlessly back into the wall. “I’ve got a set in my room.” He gestured at a door closer to the bar with a sign that read “Doctor Baddass is: Out” dangling from a nail. “And I’ve got a stash of primo weed in there just waiting to be smoked.”
“As intriguing as that sounds, I think it would be best if I waited out front.” The last thing she wanted to do was get high with a redneck.
“Suit yourself.” Ash shrugged amiably.
“No pretty words are gonna cut you a deal on this one. You’re stuck in it now, Sammy.”
“That’s not my name.” Sam’s voice was so low and controlled that Jo almost couldn’t hear it.
Dean’s face was turned away, his head bent as if it were too heavy for him to lift. Sorrow fell onto Sam, quelling his rage. He missed his brother so much—more than he’d ever thought he would. But he didn’t know if he could come back here again, could deal with being treated like a stranger by the person who used to know him best.
Sam snorted, that same disbelieving, “my brother is an idiot” noise that Dean would never forget. “God, Dean. You have no idea, do you?” He shook his head. “This isn’t about you or me or even Dad’s quest. It’s bigger than our family, now. And there’s a lot more than revenge at stake. People are depending me to get this done.”
His fists clenched, fingernails digging into his palms. Dean was sick and tired of that gut deep, kneejerk reaction that kept him from giving up on them the way they’d given up on him. They’d made their dismissal perfectly fucking clear and he was the sad sack who still let phantasms string him along.
Dean nodded. “There’s a lot of weird stuff out there, man, and most of it would just as soon fuck you up as look at you.”
Somehow, in the years that Sam had spent away from him, his brother had grown into a friggin’ behemoth with shoulders wide enough for three big guys and enough hair for even more. Dean could still see little Sammy in him, though, that sweet, smart kid he used to be, who he maybe still was, down deep.
Just looking at him hurt like hell.
Go. Read. Now.
Just Another Gin Joint
PS: I totally tagged this with "stupid things that make me cry", because this story made me cry. Yes, I am a pussy and fic makes me cry. Shut up! Know me. Read it. Tell me what you think made me cry.
That is all.