grady barrett (ashadowgrows) wrote in shadows_rpg, @ 2023-03-07 09:35:00 |
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Entry tags: | #july 2018, dean, dean x grady, grady |
Who: Grady and Dean
When: evening, Monday, July 9th
Where: home
Status: Complete
It had been almost forty-eight hours since Dean had climbed into his car and suddenly had the muzzle of a pistol pressed to his temple. The guy hiding in his back seat had been wearing gloves and a ski mask, and he’d broken into Dean’s car without leaving any damage, so Dean had to assume he was a professional hitman, or an experienced goon at the very least. The man had told Dean to keep his goddamn mouth shut about Rory DeAngelo, or Dean and his whole family would live to regret it ... but not for long. While Dean had sat there with his hands on the wheel, trying not to have a full blown panic attack, the man had dropped Jen’s name and made sure Dean understood that he knew who she was and where she worked.
He still didn’t know how he hadn’t pissed himself. The guy had gotten out of the car and by the time Dean dared to look around, he was gone. There hadn’t been any unusual cars around, nothing out of the ordinary, just their normal quiet street. It was kind of amazing something like that could just happen right in front of the sheriff’s house, but it had. Grady hadn’t been home, of course, but that just made it scarier. Dean was a gambler and had gotten himself in trouble, but he was no gangster, and it was the first time he’d ever had a gun to his head.
He’d felt like an anxious mess since then, and while he’d been avoiding the shared areas of the house, Dean knew it was only a matter of time before someone noticed. He was trying to hold it together, but the idea that Jen might be in danger meant he’d barely slept since then. His mind was constantly racing in circles about what he needed to do to fix this, to make sure nothing bad happened to his family. He could run across the country, but he had no support anywhere else, and still no money to his name. Going back to New York to turn himself over to the mob had crossed his mind, as well as straight up suicide. They would essentially be the same thing. The scandalous information Rory had thrown at him didn’t seem so useful anymore. Dean felt trapped and terrified that something bad was going to happen to his niece. But if he just kept his mouth shut ...
Dean felt like a zombie as he shuffled into the kitchen to find something to put into his stomach. His appetite had been mostly non-existent, but he knew he needed to eat something, even if it was only cereal. Grady was due home soon and Dean kind of hoped he got delayed until late, so he could be ‘sleeping’ when his brother got home.
For once, Grady didn't get delayed at work, and for that he was thankful. He wasn't sure if Jen was home, but had stopped on his way to grab a couple of pizzas from Dino's, hoping for a 'family' night. Something he was going to try and do more of. At least until Jen found his presence to be insufferable. Dean's car was in the drive, so Grady figured that even if Jen was off with Ophelia, he'd have someone in the house to share the food with.
He parked and carried the pizzas in through the back door leading into the kitchen, finding his brother rooting through the fridge. "Hungry?" he asked, lifting the pizzas a bit before carrying them to the counter. "I know it's not mom's roast, but it's edible."
His nerves were so fried, hearing someone coming in through the back door made Dean jump a little, but it was thankfully hidden by the fridge door. He briefly closed his eyes and sighed internally at himself. He really needed to get some sleep, but he couldn’t shake the idea that the minute he dozed off, someone would bust into the house to kill them all. Not that Dean could do much to stop that if he was awake, but still. He straightened up and looked around at Grady as the smell of pizza hit him and his stomach clenched. “Yeah,” Dean murmured. He left the fridge open by accident to make a beeline for the pizza boxes. “Thanks.”
Grady glanced between Dean and the open refrigerator door before moving to close it himself, snagging a couple of beers beforehand. "Do you know if Jen is home?" he asked, setting the bottles on the counter to rifle through the drawer for a bottle opener. "I guess I could've texted her to ask. I think teenagers are born now with the inability to answer an actual phone call." Dean seemed a little out of it, so Grady kept his tone light as he offered his brother one of the beers. "You want a plate?"
Dean had pulled a slice of pizza free from one of the boxes and he was about to take his first bite when Grady offered him the beer. Alcohol was probably the last thing he truly needed, but at the same time ... he did. He accepted the bottle and set his pizza down in the box again to twist the cap off. “I dunno, don’t think so. I haven’t seen her, her room’s been quiet.” It was a fact that suddenly made Dean’s stomach twist with nerves. Was Jen just at work? Or with friends? Or had some psycho in a ski mask grabbed her off the street to hold hostage? Dean took a long pull from his beer and picked up the pizza again to shove some of it into his mouth as he shook his head. He didn’t need a plate, he was a garbage person anyway, so he might as well eat like a homeless raccoon.
Being that it was summer, and Jen was a teenager, he was assuming she was out with friends. He decided to send her a quick text anyway, just to make sure she was okay. After doing so, he grabbed two plates, since Dean hadn't answered his question, and set it on the table before taking a seat. He gestured to one of the chairs, eyeing Dean closely. "What's going on?" he asked, reaching for a slice of pizza for himself. "You don't look too great." Dean seemed distracted and while he didn't know the details, Grady knew Dean had come here to hide from something, or someone, else.
Dean wasn’t eager to sit down and have supper and a chat with his brother, not when he was feeling so jumpy and sleep-deprived. He vehemently didn’t want Grady to know the extent of the trouble he was in, and while that was maybe irrational, there were deep-seated reasons for it. Still, he couldn’t think of a good excuse not to sit down, and he was tired as hell, so he went to join Grady at the table. “M’just tired,” he said with what he hoped was a nonchalant shrug as he lifted his beer for another swallow. “Haven’t been sleeping real good the past couple days. How’s it going with you, keeping the town safe and all?” Dean shot him a faint smirk.
Grady had been a cop long enough to recognize the signs of lying and he had the added benefit of being Dean's brother too. He didn't immediately want to call Dean out on it, so he let things be for the moment, taking a bite of his pizza and listening. Not sleeping well the last few days probably had to do with whatever was on his brother's mind. Grady didn't really think Dean was going to open up to him or anything, but that didn't mean he couldn't try. "Things are going fine," he said once he'd washed his bite down with some beer. "I don't want to say much more than that and risk jinxing things." The urge to start questioning Dean was strong so he took another bite of pizza and decided to keep things light for the moment. "Dahlia was pretty happy to meet you." He paused and cocked a brow before grinning. "What'd you think of her?"
Dean ate too, nodding a bit when Grady said things were fine. He sounded so much like their dad, it was eerie sometimes. He’d never wanted to burden them with any of the truths about all the fuckedupness he encountered every day. The vibe had been possible to miss some nights, though, and it had always given Dean an awful sense of dread in the pit of his stomach. He was feeling that same dread, only now there was no one to assure him everything was going to be okay. That sense of safety from childhood that their dad had tried so hard to cultivate was gone. He was doing his best to hold it together though, and Grady’s girlfriend was certainly a better topic. “Oh man, she’s great,” Dean said, his tone genuine as he gave his brother a tired grin. “Way too cool and beautiful for you, a’course, but that’s her business. But no, she seemed really awesome, man, I’m happy for you. More importantly, what do you think of her?”
There were days when Grady was well aware of how much he sounded like their dad, whether he was talking to his squad, or to Jen and Hunter. It wasn't necessarily a bad thing. He had loved and respected his dad a lot, but Grady had always tried to resist becoming exactly like him. Inheriting some parental traits were a good thing... but some could also be... not so good. He smiled when Dean complimented Dahlia, taking another drink from his beer. "I'd say I think the exact same thing you do. She's way too cool and beautiful for me, for sure. I think she knows that too, but she seems to be sticking around so I must be doing something right." There were times he still felt awkward and unsure about what to say or do, but she never seemed to mind it. He hadn't realized how much he missed having that kind of companionship in his life until he met her, that was for damn sure. "Living in this town... it's nice to have someone to care about like that. Helps make things less... stressful." That was the wrong word, but Grady didn't want to get too dark. He eyed Dean, ignoring his pizza for a moment. "What's going on, Dean. I can see you're tired and you said you haven't been sleeping well the last few days. Why is that?"
Dean made a dismissive sound and rolled his eyes affectionately when Grady fully agreed with his ball-busting. Dean had always looked up to his older brother for a multitude of reasons, and while he’d grown out of thinking Grady was ‘cool’ in the most stereotypical sense, he knew Grady had a lot to offer a woman. A lot of it was just buried under work, but Dahlia seemed to be digging and finding things she liked, so Grady’s self-deprecating crap wasn’t worth much to Dean. At least he had a woman now who liked him for him. Dean was just a cock to Bailey, more or less. He usually didn’t care about that level of casualness, preferred it that way even, but he was tired and cranky and lowkey jealous of his big brother. “Shut up, she likes you, don’t fuck it up even if you don’t get it,” Dean advised first, completely unsolicited. He ate another bite of pizza to stall for a minute, then shrugged. “Just stressed, I guess. It’s fine, it’ll pass.” He knew it wasn’t and it wouldn’t pass on its own, maybe not without violence involved, but damned if he wanted to admit any of that to Grady. He could handle this, he just had to ... handle it.
Grady cocked a brow and picked a bit at the crust of his pizza, intending to take another bite but focused on his brother more than anything else. "Thanks for the advice," he said dryly. He had no intention of fucking things up with Dahlia and he sincerely hoped that if he was about to do so, she would tell him so he could fix it. "I'm sorry you're feeling stressed. Woman trouble? You haven't told me much about your lady friend." Grady popped a piece of crust into his mouth, well aware that Dean didn't get involved enough with a woman to be stressed over her. No, that tired look in his brother's eyes had to do with something much more serious but... well, he would hopefully get Dean to admit that eventually.
Ugh, it was another thing he couldn’t talk about. Or at least could only talk about in the most vague terms. If he could tell Grady that he was banging one of his deputies, that would at least probably end the conversation, but he’d told Bailey he wouldn’t. Dean smothered a sigh and took another swig from his beer. He could blame it all on a fictional lady, he supposed, but his imagination wasn’t that great. “There’s not a lot to tell yet,” he said, shrugging again. “She’s a woman I met at The Porch, we’re just doing a casual thing. Trying to have a real girlfriend while I’m crashing at my older brother’s place at this age would be ... too pathetic for words.” Dean knew he wasn’t any sort of catch for any woman, they could all probably smell the troubled desperation on him. “I just didn’t want to blurt out that I’ve got a fuckbuddy in front of Jen.” He shot Grady a glance.
Grady made a small noise in his throat. He would have asked if he knew the woman, but it was a small town and Grady knew practically everyone. He wasn't really sure he wanted to know who it was. "Like I said, it's nice having someone around when things get stressful. Casual is good too. I don't think it's pathetic. You're just working through some problems. That's just life." Though that was probably putting it mildly, for his brother. Grady reached for his beer. "I'm assuming those problems are the reason you're not sleeping very well." Dean had already told him about the money issues, why he ended up in Point Pleasant in the first place, though Grady was sure there was more to it than that. Dean just wasn't much of an open book, at least not to Grady.
Just working through some problems. That was putting it mildly. Dean gave a little snort and sucked down some more beer. It was more than ‘just life,’ it was putting Jen in danger and it was completely his fault. What would Grady’s reaction be if Dean told him everything? Would he kick him out? Forbid him from getting anywhere near the house or his niece again? The thought made that ever-present invisible band tighten further around his chest. There was of course the possibility that Grady could help him, but Dean was too scared of being outright rejected to try that. Then he would really be alone and fucked. “You assume correctly,” he muttered before he took another bite of pizza. “Just gotta ... work through it, like you said.” And hopefully not get any of his family killed in the process.
Grady took another bite of his own pizza, letting that silence linger for a moment. After washing it down with a swig of beer, Grady reached for a napkin to wipe some of the grease from his fingers. "You know you can talk to me about it, right? I'm here if you need help." He didn't have large amounts of money or anything like that, but Dean was his brother and Grady wanted him to know he was there if Dean needed him to be. He would rather Dean find a solution and fix his problems than just lounge around, waiting for them to all come to a head.
If Grady had been a cop in New York itself or something, Dean might have believed help was possible. But what could he really do? The PPPD was understaffed and overworked as it was, adding ‘be on the lookout for dangerous mobsters’ to the list of shit Grady had to worry about wasn’t something that Dean wanted to do. Especially since that danger could be aimed at their tiny family. His sense that he could handle this himself was starting to crumble though, and Dean had no idea what to do. He dropped his pizza crust and gave a sigh of resignation, scrubbing both hands over his face. “I just ... there’s nothing you can do, okay?” he said, the exhaustion and stress apparent in his voice now. “Unless you’ve got a bunch of fucking money to spare that I don’t know about, you can’t help, man.”
Sadly, Grady didn't have a bunch of fucking money. The only nest egg he had was money he and Alison had put aside for Hunter and Jen to go to college. Still, it hurt to see his brother look and sound so defeated, even if Grady knew Dean had brought it upon himself. "It's that bad, huh?" Grady sighed and set the napkin down before leaning against the back of his chair. "How much money is it, Dean?" His brother may or may not tell him, but Grady really couldn't help if he didn't know what he was dealing with. Dean had told him he would fix it the day he rolled into town, but that didn't seem to be happening and Dean looked a hell of a lot worse off now than he had then.
Dean bit his tongue on asking if they could just stop talking about this. He knew it wouldn’t go over well, no matter how much he wanted to change the subject. That would really make Grady worry. Not that he wasn’t doing that already, obviously. What he really wished for was to just sink through the floor and disappear completely. “At this point ... probably close to a hundred thousand,” Dean muttered, his eyes on the table. After his encounters with Rory DeAngelo, the amount wasn’t even the part that frightened him the most. If he didn’t make a move, he didn’t think Rory would either, but the mafia son obviously had someone on his side who was genuinely dangerous, and that was scary as hell. Dean had been banking on having a bargaining chip, but it seemed like he’d just dug his hole even deeper.
A hundred grand. Grady did his best not to close his eyes and sigh. Their father had always done that when he was disappointed in something they’d done and Grady was well aware that he’d already picked up enough of his father’s traits. Instead he let that icy feeling wash through him as he took another drink from his beer. How could Dean let it get that bad? His brother was forty years old and still couldn’t seem to get his life together. It made Grady want to shake him. Tell him to get a job and settle the fuck down before he got himself killed. But that too sounded so much like their dad. Instead, Grady set his bottle down and let the silence linger for a moment or two. “I could take another mortgage out on the house,” he said finally, though the idea of doing that made him feel slightly ill. But he was willing to make those sacrifices to help Dean. That’s what family was for. “Get your debts paid off and help you get a place. You need a blank slate, Dean. I’m worried like hell about you.”
The shame really started to creep in during that silence. Grady had avoided sighing, but Dean could feel the disappointment in the very air anyway. He knew he was a total fuckup, that this was a bad situation that he needed actual help getting out of, he didn’t need anyone else to tell him that. He kept his gaze lowered until Grady spoke again, then Dean’s eyes snapped up and widened. “No, Grady,” he was quick to say, already shaking his head. “No man, I can’t let you do that, Jesus Christ.” He felt ill thinking about it, and it wasn’t even his house to get into more debt over. “I mean, that’s incredibly generous, of course, but ...” Dean trailed off and shook his head again helplessly. He knew his brother was worried, and rightly so, but he couldn’t imagine accepting that kind of offer. But if it saved his ass from being murdered ... no, fuck. He couldn’t rightly make his brother’s life so much worse just because he was an idiot. Would the DeAngelos even accept a payment at this point? Or would they try to punish him further and jack the ‘price’ up beyond what a second mortgage could even cover?
He knew Dean would protest, though Grady wasn't sure how sincere that protest actually was. He knew Dean wouldn't come back to Point Pleasant unless he had a damn good reason to, and hiding from potentially dangerous people was a good reason. But Grady could also step back and try to find the silver lining in this situation. It wasn't a very bright silver lining, but it was something, wasn't it? "Where else are you going to come up with that kind of money? Do you plan on just hiding here until someone finds you to collect? Go on the run for the rest of your life? Does any of that really sound appealing to you?" Going further into debt was something Grady could tolerate if it meant his brother was safe. "We can make a deal of our own. I get you the money, you pay off your debt. Then you stay here in town and get a job so you can start paying me back."
It wasn’t terribly surprising that Grady was reading between the lines on the nature of the trouble Dean was really in, but he still hated that it was that transparent. And his big brother was right that he had no other real plan, besides trying to offer up Rory to clear his debt. Dean scraped his teeth over his bottom lip and scrubbed his face with his hands again. “There’s a guy here, in town,” he said after a beat. “A guy they’re looking for -- the people I owe, they want him back. I thought maybe I could make a trade, but ... come to find out, he’s not alone here, so that might be off the table. I dunno man, I didn’t ... I don’t really have a plan. I didn’t plan on any of this, it all just ... got away from me.” It was humiliating and awful to admit, but that was the reality of it. Dean hated that he’d done this and put his only remaining family in danger, but he hadn’t known where else to go. “Is that even possible? Will the bank just give you that kind of cash?” He knew nothing about how mortgages worked.
That was something Grady hadn't expected to hear and definitely something he didn't like. Trading someone to clear a debt? That sounded nefarious and revealed to Grady that Dean was in way deeper than he had originally thought. It also worried Grady that this other person knew Dean's dilemma and what if Dean's life were a bargaining chip as well. All of that aside, it was clear Dean didn't have a plan and his I'll fix it was really just a prayer for a miracle. "Leave other people out of this," Grady said, aware that it might be easier said than done. But involving anyone else would only make this whole thing messier, which he was sure Dean already knew. "I'll talk to the bank tomorrow." No, banks didn't just hand out cash, but Grady could apply for the mortgage and go from there. "Just... keep your head down and stay out of trouble until we get this sorted out, okay?"
That was probably easier said than done, considering Rory knew he was here too, if not exactly who he was. Dean was just an idiot who’d gotten himself in a lot of debt and trouble, and he hoped paying back the former would make up for the latter. He knew there was no way in hell he’d ever be able to pay Grady back though, even working and making payments like it was his own mortgage, and it made him feel sick to his stomach. He wanted to protest some more, tell his brother to just wait a little while before he did anything ... but Dean knew there was nothing to wait for. He wasn’t going to suddenly pull a solution out of his ass, or he would’ve done it by now. He couldn’t turn Rory over without risking his family, Dean didn’t know any insider mob information to give to the FBI for protection, he couldn’t gamble his way into that much money ... hell, he didn’t even have life insurance to make him worth anything dead. He was desperate and hopeless, and now his big brother was going to bail him out, again. “Okay,” he mumbled, his cheeks burning and his eyes on the table. “I’m sorry, Grady.”
As much as he didn't want to admit it, Grady knew Dean wouldn't be able to pay him back either. But Grady would accept that if it meant Dean got a job, stayed in town and grew up a bit. Not to mention the whole safety thing. He had no idea what could happen to his brother if he left again... rack up new debts, piss off more people. As horrible as Point Pleasant could be, Grady felt like Dean was safer there with his family. "Don't be sorry," Grady said, reaching for his beer again. "Just promise me that this'll be the last mess, okay? No more gambling or messing with the wrong people. I want you to be safe. That's all I want."
How could he not be sorry? Dean had royally fucked up this time, and now his few remaining family members were going to pay for it, quite literally. Was he making debt that Jen and Hunter would eventually inherit? Fuck, he didn’t want Grady to do this, but he couldn’t see any other way either. At least no other way that didn’t involve handing himself over to the mob. “I promise,” he said quietly. Dean still couldn’t bring himself to look at his brother, his thumbnail restlessly pushing at the edge of the label on his beer bottle. Part of him felt like a teenager again, sitting at the kitchen table while his dad chastised him for whatever shenanigans he’d gotten up to. Grady wasn’t doing that exactly and he knew this time the trouble was much more serious, but the shame felt the same.
"You should finish eating... and go get some sleep." Grady didn't want to tell Dean that he looked like shit, but he did. His brother looked pale and sleep deprived and now Grady understood why. But they would get things sorted and hopefully Dean could start over with a blank slate. He nearly asked if he ought to go have a conversation with this other person hanging around Point Pleasant, but Grady knew Dean would protest that and Grady didn't want to risk making the complications worse.
It felt kind of like a dismissal, but Dean was more grateful for it than anything. There was nothing else he could really say. He knew he looked like shit, he knew he was shit, and there was nothing to be done about it right then. He just had to try to do better going forward, and swallow his pride so his brother could help him stay alive. Dean finished his beer instead of his pizza slice, then stood up to trash the rest of it. He didn’t have an appetite anymore. He also didn’t have his own place to go sulk in, just the small bedroom his nephew had left behind, and at the moment that felt like an additional humiliation that he deserved. “G’night,” Dean muttered as he shuffled out of the kitchen. He would stretch out, hide under his blanket, maybe have a little cry, and hopefully pass out. He didn’t feel any relief yet, but maybe it would come once it was all said and done.