The Kid, Part 2 -- Supernatural, PG
Jul. 23rd, 2008 10:52 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
phantismaFandom: Supernatural
Title: The Kid Part 2 (Part one here
Characters/Pairings: Dean, Sam, John, Bobby, Pastor Jim
Rating: PG
Genre: GEN (did you even know I could GEN?)
Word Count: 2897
Summary: Dean is 17, Sam is 13. John is going on 6. Bobby finds something, but isn't as helpful as Dean wanted it to be. Dean and John bond a little more.
A/Ns & Warnings: Um. This is at least partially![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
varkelton's fault. De-aging fic.
Bobby was only gone a week before he was back with the promised papers. Dean met him on the porch as the boys were finishing up dinner. “Sorry it took so long, but they’re good.”
Dean frowned at him. “How good?”
“Good enough. How you boys doing?”
Dean shrugged and gestured into the house. “I got stew leftover. Want a beer?”
Bobby snorted. “How’d you get beer?”
“I have my ways. Come on in.”
“Uncle Bobby!” Sam jumped up to hug Bobby. John just looked up at him cautiously.
Bobby thumped Sam’s back and snagged a chair. “How’s school?”
“I have the smartest teacher on the planet.” Sam said.
“Doesn’t hurt that she’s a looker.” Dean responded with a smirk.
“Dean!”
“I’m just saying. Blond, tits out to here—“
“I get the picture.” Bobby said, taking the beer Dean offered him.
“You two clear your dishes and go get on that homework thing. Let the grown ups talk.” Dean turned to get the stew and a clean bowl.
“So Bobby’s going to talk to himself?” Sam shot back, ducking out of reach. “Come on Johnny, I’ll help you with those alphabet pages.”
“Homework in kindergarten?” Bobby asked as they both scampered away.
Dean shrugged. “He’s having some problems. His teacher thinks that if we work with him at home a little he’ll overcome them.”
“What kind of problems?”
“Hell if I know. He’s perfectly fine here at home.” He popped a top on a beer of his own and straddled his chair. He pulled the packet of papers to him and opened them. There was a birth certificate and immunization records, but when Dean looked closer at the birth certificate, it listed him as the father. “What’s this?”
Bobby looked up from the stew he was shoveling into his mouth. “Figured you might need it.”
“You know I would have been twelve when he was born.”
“When he was born, you were still twenty two years away from being considered.” Bobby countered.
“You found something.” Dean knew it from the way Bobby was avoiding it. He found something and Dean wasn’t going to like it.
“It’s only a theory. I did some digging on your dad’s history, his parents.”
Dean waited for him to continue, but he didn’t right away. “Okay, what does that have to do with him suddenly being five?”
“Did you know your grandmother killed herself?”
Dean shook his head. “No. Dad never talked about her.”
“He was six when it happened. The day before his birthday.”
“That sucks.”
Bobby taped the folder and Dean flipped past the letter. There were news clippings. “Dad found her?” He could see why his father would never talk about her. “The kid said his mom was always sad.”
There was yellow highlights on one of the clippings. Dean lifted it. “Police are investigating…blah, blah, blah…reports of an unhappy marriage.”
“Your grandfather was cleared, but you know how things were back then.”
“Are you saying he killed her?”
Bobby hung his head. “I don’t know. There were eyewitnesses that claimed he hit her. And your father went to the hospital when he was four with a broken arm no one could explain.”
Dean flipped past the clippings and found a photocopy of a page out of a book. “What’s a wisch?”
Bobby pointed at the page with his spoon. “My theory. They’re rare, but it’s the only thing I couldn’t rule out.”
Dean lifted the page, his eyes scanning over the details. A form of fairy. One that granted wishes. Or one wish. They granted one wish and then died. No go backs, no exchanges. “Are you telling me that Dad wished himself back to five?”
Bobby shrugged and lifted his beer. “I don’t know Dean. But that case, the one he was working the night this happened? It involved a woman who killed herself. She was found by her seven year old daughter. It might have brought up a lot of old emotions. Wisches aren’t exactly discerning about what wish they grant.”
“So Dad has some random passing thought about when he was five, and this thing decides to give him a…what? A second chance?”
“I’m just guessing Dean.”
Dean sighed and drained his beer. “Great. So how do we fix it?”
“We don’t.”
Dean cursed and stood, pacing away. “There has to be something.”
“Nothing. The wish is permanent.”
Permanent. “Great. Just fucking great!” Dean threw his chair into the fridge, splintering it. “What the fuck am I supposed to do with that?”
He ran his hands through his hair. It was all okay, as long as he didn’t think too much about it, as long as he let some part of himself believe that there was an end somewhere ahead.
The thought that this was it…that he was going to end up not just raising his geek brother, but his own father too? It was too much. “How the hell am I supposed to raise him?”
“You don’t have to.” Bobby’s words cut through Dean’s anguish and brought him up short.
“What?”
Bobby stood up from the table, holding his hands up. “Just listen, Dean. You’re just a kid yourself. None of us think you’re ready for this. Pastor Jim is going to come see you boys, help you weigh your options, okay?”
“Options?” Dean shook his head. “Why does this sound like you’re telling me to turn him over to the goddamn system?”
Bobby rubbed a hand over his beard. “It doesn’t have to be that way.”
“No?” Dean shook his head again. “I suppose you think I should give Sam away too? Send him off to be raised by strangers?”
“Dean—“
“Fuck you Bobby.” He stormed across the kitchen and up into Bobby’s face. “Fuck you. This is my family. MY FAMILY!”
“And you’re a seventeen year old boy with no high school diploma and no prospects.” Bobby said when the silence had stretched out.
“I have a job. I start on Monday.”
“And what about school?”
“Screw school. I’m no good at it anyway.”
“What job?” Bobby asked. “What job does a seventeen year old get that will support two growing boys?”
The fury dumped out of his system. “Washing dishes. We’ll get by.”
“Get by.” Bobby echoed. “That sounds an awful lot like your Daddy.”
“Maybe.” Dean scratched at his head. “I’m not ready to give them up.”
“No one’s saying you have to.” Bobby said. “We’re just saying you need to think this through. I’m staying at the motel on the edge of town. Jim will be here in a few days. We’re going to help you through this.”
Dean didn’t walk him to the door. There was no point. Dean closed his eyes. He couldn’t imagine life without Sam. And he couldn’t imagine what the kid would think if Dean walked away from him now.
The whole thing was unfair. Fucking unfair.
He picked up his beer bottle, only to slam it into the sink in a fury. A piece ricocheted back at him, cutting his cheek. Dean stumbled back into the wall, sliding down it, holding his cheek.
The tears were hot as they seared down his face and he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to will them away.
“Dean?”
He sniffed and lifted his head. Sam was standing in the door way. “You okay?”
Dean nodded shakily. “Yeah, just…you know?”
Sam came a few steps closer. “Dad’s really not coming back this time, is he?”
“No, Sammy. I don’t think he is.” Dean admitted, wiping his face. “I think that John in there is all we’ll ever have of Dad.”
“Are we going to be okay?”
Dean picked himself up off the floor and exhaled slowly. “Yeah, Sammy. We’ll be okay.”
“I can get a paper route.” Sam said as they started cleaning up the mess Dean had made. “You know, so we can replace the furniture you keep breaking.”
Dean didn’t have enough energy left in him to rise to the barb. Instead he just ruffled Sam’s hair. “You concentrate on school. I’ll worry about the money.”
It took Dean a few days to come up with a fake ID convincing enough to say he was old enough to have a kid John’s age. By the time he started work that Monday though, he was semi-officially nineteen, which admittedly made him fourteen when he did the deed, but considering he was only two days past fourteen when he lost his virginity, he figured it would work. Anything over nineteen would probably get questioned.
He dropped Sam and John off at school and headed to the diner. It wasn’t his first choice, but the town wasn’t all that big, and his choices were pretty small. He made it through the paperwork part of the day, met his coworkers and got the grand tour before he was shown to his sink.
It was a long day and by the time it was over his feet and back ached, and he felt grimy. “Good job today, Winchester,” the owner said as Dean pulled his apron off and wiped his forehead.
“Thanks.”
“Want some dinner?”
“Can’t, I have to go pick up my kid brother and my…kid.”
“Whoa, you got a kid?”
Dean nodded. “Yeah, and today’s the first day I didn’t pick him up from school. I really should get home.”
“You should bring them in on your day off.”
“We’ll see. I gotta go.”
“See you tomorrow.”
Dean wasn’t even out of the car before John was flying out the front door, launching himself into Dean’s arms as he got close enough. His face was wet with tears and his little body shook with sobs. “Hey. What’s wrong?”
John just buried his face in Dean’s shoulder. Dean headed into the house. “Sam? What’s wrong with him?
Sam looked up from his homework. “Some kids at school were picking on him. Calling him names.”
“All this over names?”
Sam shrugged. “I haven’t gotten him to say more than that he wanted you.”
“Okay, buddy, let’s you and me go have a beer, okay?”
Dean took John into the kitchen, pulling out a bottle of beer and a can of root beer. He sat John on the counter and handed him the soda. “Bad day?”
John sobbed and nodded.
“Me too. Want to tell me?”
John blinked up at him. “Toby Haus.”
Dean nodded and sipped on his beer. “Toby Haus, eh? What did Toby do?”
“He told everyone my mommy didn’t want me anymore.” John sniffled. “They said I was so ugly and bad she sent me away. And my father didn’t want me either.”
Dean inhaled. He’d forgotten how cruel kids could be. “All that, huh? Sounds pretty bad.”
John nodded miserably, sipping on his soda. “He took my hat and ripped off Mr. Turtle’s tail.”
“This Toby guy sounds like a jerk.”
“He is.”
“You know none of that is true right?” Dean’s eyes narrowed, watching John think it through. “First of all, look at you. You’re a Winchester. Naturally handsome. Devastatingly handsome.” John blinked at him. “I mean, look at me. I’m pretty good looking, right?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
Dean smirked. “Any kid with my genes is gonna be just as good looking. Second, you’re pretty damn good kid. I’m sure that your mother would never send you away.”
The tears were back in his eyes and Dean kicked himself. “As to your father. Well, let’s just say you’re father wants you right where you are. You get me?”
Obviously not, judging from the look on the kid’s face. “See…” He pulled out his wallet, unfolded the birth certificate. “This piece of paper right here? It says that I’m your father.”
John’s eyes were big. “You? But what about my Dad?”
Dean took a deep breath. “I need you to tell me something John. Seriously.”
John nodded. Dean never called him by his name. “Did he ever hurt you? You or your mother?”
“Family business.” John whispered. “Not supposed to talk about it.” He looked away.
Dean pressed his lips together and pushed aside the irrational anger. “I’m family too, John. You can tell me.”
“Sometimes. When he was drinking. He gets angry.” John said, looking up at him. “Mom says he doesn’t mean it.”
“A man who hits a kid is no father, you hear me?”
“Did he do something to my mother?”
“We don’t know. But you’re safe now. You’re with me and I’m going to make sure no one ever hurts you like that again.”
Dean barely caught him as John pushed himself off the counter and into his arms again. “Kinda need to breathe Kid.” He shouldn’t have told the kid that. Shouldn’t have lied to him. He just didn’t know what else to do.
“Okay. So tell me, did Mr. Turtle and his tail make it home?”
John nodded as Dean put him on the ground. “Go get him. Sammy! Bring the med kit. We have some surgery to do.”
Ten minutes later John hovered over Dean as Dean used the surgical thread and the stitching skills his father had taught him to re-attach Mr. Turtle’s tail. “Good as new.” John hugged him and took off running to the bedroom he was sharing with Sam now that Dean had moved into their father’s room.
“Nice.” Sam said, helping him clean up.
“I sewed together that damn teddy bear of yours enough, I figured an elephant’s tail would be easy.”
One more crisis averted. He was more used to sewing up his father’s body parts than his father’s favorite stuffed animal, but all in all, it wasn’t a bad trade.
“You’re good with him.” Pastor Jim sipped at his coffee, watching John play with other kids in the sandbox while Sam was off reading a book under some tree.
“Thanks. I think.” Dean said, sitting beside him and lifting his own cup. “We’re doing okay.”
“For now.” There was no condemnation in his voice, but that didn’t mean Dean didn’t feel it.
“I know you and Bobby think I can’t handle this.” He sighed and kicked his legs out in front of him. “Maybe you’re right. But look at him. I can’t even imagine sending him away.”
“Bobby tells me you dropped out of school.”
“Need to work. Rent’s due in a few days. Dad had us paid up until the end of the month.”
Jim nodded. “How’s Sam taking all of this?”
Dean squinted in Sam’s direction. “Good, I think. They get along better now…and Sam gets to be the big brother for a change.”
“But he lost his father.”
That was true. “I don’t think that’s really sunk in yet.” Dean said.
“Are you ready for the fall out when it does?”
“Honestly? I don’t know. Sam and me, we’ve always been okay on our own. Dad taught us to be self-reliant.”
“But did he teach you how to be a father?”
Dean turned to look at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Pastor Jim leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. “I don’t mean anything in particular Dean. You boys didn’t have a conventional childhood is all. Sam’s in eight grade? And how many schools has it taken to get him there?”
More than eight, Dean knew. “So? Look at him. He’s a smart little geek.”
“That isn’t the point and you know it.”
“Okay, so Dad wasn’t the best role model. I get that.” Dean drank his coffee and watched John play. “Did you know his father abused him?”
“He told you that?”
Dean nodded. “I never knew. He never told us.” He sighed. “His mother died, probably killed by my grandfather. They ruled it suicide. No wonder Dad joined the Marines when he was seventeen.” Dean stood and paced around a little. Just thinking about it made him angry every single time. “So maybe he wasn’t the best father, but he wasn’t the worst either.”
“And now you think you can give him a better life?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.” Dean sighed and sat back down. “I want to try.”
Jim looked at him and it felt like he was sizing Dean up. “You don’t have to do it alone.”
“Yeah, I know. But I’m not moving in on you. No offense, but your place isn’t exactly my style.”
Jim smiled and nodded. “I remember. At least consider moving closer, so I can help when you need it?”
Dean had considered that. It wasn’t a bad plan compared to some of the others he’d considered. “After the semester is over. The kid’s just getting settled in, I don’t want to pull him out.”
“Come for Christmas.” Jim said, standing and putting his coffee cup in the trash by the bench. “I’ll help you find a place, line up some work.”
Dean hated admitting he needed the help, but washing dishes in some local diner wasn’t exactly going to keep them in the lap of luxury. In fact it was barely going to keep a roof over their heads. “Christmas.” It seemed like a lifetime away.
“Oh, and you can tell Bobby I’m not mad at him. He can come by once in a while if he wants.”
Jim chuckled. “I’ll tell him. You call me if you need anything.”
“Thanks.” Dean stood to hug the older man, relieved somehow to have something of a plan.
Title: The Kid Part 2 (Part one here
Characters/Pairings: Dean, Sam, John, Bobby, Pastor Jim
Rating: PG
Genre: GEN (did you even know I could GEN?)
Word Count: 2897
Summary: Dean is 17, Sam is 13. John is going on 6. Bobby finds something, but isn't as helpful as Dean wanted it to be. Dean and John bond a little more.
A/Ns & Warnings: Um. This is at least partially
varkelton's fault. De-aging fic. Bobby was only gone a week before he was back with the promised papers. Dean met him on the porch as the boys were finishing up dinner. “Sorry it took so long, but they’re good.”
Dean frowned at him. “How good?”
“Good enough. How you boys doing?”
Dean shrugged and gestured into the house. “I got stew leftover. Want a beer?”
Bobby snorted. “How’d you get beer?”
“I have my ways. Come on in.”
“Uncle Bobby!” Sam jumped up to hug Bobby. John just looked up at him cautiously.
Bobby thumped Sam’s back and snagged a chair. “How’s school?”
“I have the smartest teacher on the planet.” Sam said.
“Doesn’t hurt that she’s a looker.” Dean responded with a smirk.
“Dean!”
“I’m just saying. Blond, tits out to here—“
“I get the picture.” Bobby said, taking the beer Dean offered him.
“You two clear your dishes and go get on that homework thing. Let the grown ups talk.” Dean turned to get the stew and a clean bowl.
“So Bobby’s going to talk to himself?” Sam shot back, ducking out of reach. “Come on Johnny, I’ll help you with those alphabet pages.”
“Homework in kindergarten?” Bobby asked as they both scampered away.
Dean shrugged. “He’s having some problems. His teacher thinks that if we work with him at home a little he’ll overcome them.”
“What kind of problems?”
“Hell if I know. He’s perfectly fine here at home.” He popped a top on a beer of his own and straddled his chair. He pulled the packet of papers to him and opened them. There was a birth certificate and immunization records, but when Dean looked closer at the birth certificate, it listed him as the father. “What’s this?”
Bobby looked up from the stew he was shoveling into his mouth. “Figured you might need it.”
“You know I would have been twelve when he was born.”
“When he was born, you were still twenty two years away from being considered.” Bobby countered.
“You found something.” Dean knew it from the way Bobby was avoiding it. He found something and Dean wasn’t going to like it.
“It’s only a theory. I did some digging on your dad’s history, his parents.”
Dean waited for him to continue, but he didn’t right away. “Okay, what does that have to do with him suddenly being five?”
“Did you know your grandmother killed herself?”
Dean shook his head. “No. Dad never talked about her.”
“He was six when it happened. The day before his birthday.”
“That sucks.”
Bobby taped the folder and Dean flipped past the letter. There were news clippings. “Dad found her?” He could see why his father would never talk about her. “The kid said his mom was always sad.”
There was yellow highlights on one of the clippings. Dean lifted it. “Police are investigating…blah, blah, blah…reports of an unhappy marriage.”
“Your grandfather was cleared, but you know how things were back then.”
“Are you saying he killed her?”
Bobby hung his head. “I don’t know. There were eyewitnesses that claimed he hit her. And your father went to the hospital when he was four with a broken arm no one could explain.”
Dean flipped past the clippings and found a photocopy of a page out of a book. “What’s a wisch?”
Bobby pointed at the page with his spoon. “My theory. They’re rare, but it’s the only thing I couldn’t rule out.”
Dean lifted the page, his eyes scanning over the details. A form of fairy. One that granted wishes. Or one wish. They granted one wish and then died. No go backs, no exchanges. “Are you telling me that Dad wished himself back to five?”
Bobby shrugged and lifted his beer. “I don’t know Dean. But that case, the one he was working the night this happened? It involved a woman who killed herself. She was found by her seven year old daughter. It might have brought up a lot of old emotions. Wisches aren’t exactly discerning about what wish they grant.”
“So Dad has some random passing thought about when he was five, and this thing decides to give him a…what? A second chance?”
“I’m just guessing Dean.”
Dean sighed and drained his beer. “Great. So how do we fix it?”
“We don’t.”
Dean cursed and stood, pacing away. “There has to be something.”
“Nothing. The wish is permanent.”
Permanent. “Great. Just fucking great!” Dean threw his chair into the fridge, splintering it. “What the fuck am I supposed to do with that?”
He ran his hands through his hair. It was all okay, as long as he didn’t think too much about it, as long as he let some part of himself believe that there was an end somewhere ahead.
The thought that this was it…that he was going to end up not just raising his geek brother, but his own father too? It was too much. “How the hell am I supposed to raise him?”
“You don’t have to.” Bobby’s words cut through Dean’s anguish and brought him up short.
“What?”
Bobby stood up from the table, holding his hands up. “Just listen, Dean. You’re just a kid yourself. None of us think you’re ready for this. Pastor Jim is going to come see you boys, help you weigh your options, okay?”
“Options?” Dean shook his head. “Why does this sound like you’re telling me to turn him over to the goddamn system?”
Bobby rubbed a hand over his beard. “It doesn’t have to be that way.”
“No?” Dean shook his head again. “I suppose you think I should give Sam away too? Send him off to be raised by strangers?”
“Dean—“
“Fuck you Bobby.” He stormed across the kitchen and up into Bobby’s face. “Fuck you. This is my family. MY FAMILY!”
“And you’re a seventeen year old boy with no high school diploma and no prospects.” Bobby said when the silence had stretched out.
“I have a job. I start on Monday.”
“And what about school?”
“Screw school. I’m no good at it anyway.”
“What job?” Bobby asked. “What job does a seventeen year old get that will support two growing boys?”
The fury dumped out of his system. “Washing dishes. We’ll get by.”
“Get by.” Bobby echoed. “That sounds an awful lot like your Daddy.”
“Maybe.” Dean scratched at his head. “I’m not ready to give them up.”
“No one’s saying you have to.” Bobby said. “We’re just saying you need to think this through. I’m staying at the motel on the edge of town. Jim will be here in a few days. We’re going to help you through this.”
Dean didn’t walk him to the door. There was no point. Dean closed his eyes. He couldn’t imagine life without Sam. And he couldn’t imagine what the kid would think if Dean walked away from him now.
The whole thing was unfair. Fucking unfair.
He picked up his beer bottle, only to slam it into the sink in a fury. A piece ricocheted back at him, cutting his cheek. Dean stumbled back into the wall, sliding down it, holding his cheek.
The tears were hot as they seared down his face and he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to will them away.
“Dean?”
He sniffed and lifted his head. Sam was standing in the door way. “You okay?”
Dean nodded shakily. “Yeah, just…you know?”
Sam came a few steps closer. “Dad’s really not coming back this time, is he?”
“No, Sammy. I don’t think he is.” Dean admitted, wiping his face. “I think that John in there is all we’ll ever have of Dad.”
“Are we going to be okay?”
Dean picked himself up off the floor and exhaled slowly. “Yeah, Sammy. We’ll be okay.”
“I can get a paper route.” Sam said as they started cleaning up the mess Dean had made. “You know, so we can replace the furniture you keep breaking.”
Dean didn’t have enough energy left in him to rise to the barb. Instead he just ruffled Sam’s hair. “You concentrate on school. I’ll worry about the money.”
It took Dean a few days to come up with a fake ID convincing enough to say he was old enough to have a kid John’s age. By the time he started work that Monday though, he was semi-officially nineteen, which admittedly made him fourteen when he did the deed, but considering he was only two days past fourteen when he lost his virginity, he figured it would work. Anything over nineteen would probably get questioned.
He dropped Sam and John off at school and headed to the diner. It wasn’t his first choice, but the town wasn’t all that big, and his choices were pretty small. He made it through the paperwork part of the day, met his coworkers and got the grand tour before he was shown to his sink.
It was a long day and by the time it was over his feet and back ached, and he felt grimy. “Good job today, Winchester,” the owner said as Dean pulled his apron off and wiped his forehead.
“Thanks.”
“Want some dinner?”
“Can’t, I have to go pick up my kid brother and my…kid.”
“Whoa, you got a kid?”
Dean nodded. “Yeah, and today’s the first day I didn’t pick him up from school. I really should get home.”
“You should bring them in on your day off.”
“We’ll see. I gotta go.”
“See you tomorrow.”
Dean wasn’t even out of the car before John was flying out the front door, launching himself into Dean’s arms as he got close enough. His face was wet with tears and his little body shook with sobs. “Hey. What’s wrong?”
John just buried his face in Dean’s shoulder. Dean headed into the house. “Sam? What’s wrong with him?
Sam looked up from his homework. “Some kids at school were picking on him. Calling him names.”
“All this over names?”
Sam shrugged. “I haven’t gotten him to say more than that he wanted you.”
“Okay, buddy, let’s you and me go have a beer, okay?”
Dean took John into the kitchen, pulling out a bottle of beer and a can of root beer. He sat John on the counter and handed him the soda. “Bad day?”
John sobbed and nodded.
“Me too. Want to tell me?”
John blinked up at him. “Toby Haus.”
Dean nodded and sipped on his beer. “Toby Haus, eh? What did Toby do?”
“He told everyone my mommy didn’t want me anymore.” John sniffled. “They said I was so ugly and bad she sent me away. And my father didn’t want me either.”
Dean inhaled. He’d forgotten how cruel kids could be. “All that, huh? Sounds pretty bad.”
John nodded miserably, sipping on his soda. “He took my hat and ripped off Mr. Turtle’s tail.”
“This Toby guy sounds like a jerk.”
“He is.”
“You know none of that is true right?” Dean’s eyes narrowed, watching John think it through. “First of all, look at you. You’re a Winchester. Naturally handsome. Devastatingly handsome.” John blinked at him. “I mean, look at me. I’m pretty good looking, right?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
Dean smirked. “Any kid with my genes is gonna be just as good looking. Second, you’re pretty damn good kid. I’m sure that your mother would never send you away.”
The tears were back in his eyes and Dean kicked himself. “As to your father. Well, let’s just say you’re father wants you right where you are. You get me?”
Obviously not, judging from the look on the kid’s face. “See…” He pulled out his wallet, unfolded the birth certificate. “This piece of paper right here? It says that I’m your father.”
John’s eyes were big. “You? But what about my Dad?”
Dean took a deep breath. “I need you to tell me something John. Seriously.”
John nodded. Dean never called him by his name. “Did he ever hurt you? You or your mother?”
“Family business.” John whispered. “Not supposed to talk about it.” He looked away.
Dean pressed his lips together and pushed aside the irrational anger. “I’m family too, John. You can tell me.”
“Sometimes. When he was drinking. He gets angry.” John said, looking up at him. “Mom says he doesn’t mean it.”
“A man who hits a kid is no father, you hear me?”
“Did he do something to my mother?”
“We don’t know. But you’re safe now. You’re with me and I’m going to make sure no one ever hurts you like that again.”
Dean barely caught him as John pushed himself off the counter and into his arms again. “Kinda need to breathe Kid.” He shouldn’t have told the kid that. Shouldn’t have lied to him. He just didn’t know what else to do.
“Okay. So tell me, did Mr. Turtle and his tail make it home?”
John nodded as Dean put him on the ground. “Go get him. Sammy! Bring the med kit. We have some surgery to do.”
Ten minutes later John hovered over Dean as Dean used the surgical thread and the stitching skills his father had taught him to re-attach Mr. Turtle’s tail. “Good as new.” John hugged him and took off running to the bedroom he was sharing with Sam now that Dean had moved into their father’s room.
“Nice.” Sam said, helping him clean up.
“I sewed together that damn teddy bear of yours enough, I figured an elephant’s tail would be easy.”
One more crisis averted. He was more used to sewing up his father’s body parts than his father’s favorite stuffed animal, but all in all, it wasn’t a bad trade.
“You’re good with him.” Pastor Jim sipped at his coffee, watching John play with other kids in the sandbox while Sam was off reading a book under some tree.
“Thanks. I think.” Dean said, sitting beside him and lifting his own cup. “We’re doing okay.”
“For now.” There was no condemnation in his voice, but that didn’t mean Dean didn’t feel it.
“I know you and Bobby think I can’t handle this.” He sighed and kicked his legs out in front of him. “Maybe you’re right. But look at him. I can’t even imagine sending him away.”
“Bobby tells me you dropped out of school.”
“Need to work. Rent’s due in a few days. Dad had us paid up until the end of the month.”
Jim nodded. “How’s Sam taking all of this?”
Dean squinted in Sam’s direction. “Good, I think. They get along better now…and Sam gets to be the big brother for a change.”
“But he lost his father.”
That was true. “I don’t think that’s really sunk in yet.” Dean said.
“Are you ready for the fall out when it does?”
“Honestly? I don’t know. Sam and me, we’ve always been okay on our own. Dad taught us to be self-reliant.”
“But did he teach you how to be a father?”
Dean turned to look at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Pastor Jim leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. “I don’t mean anything in particular Dean. You boys didn’t have a conventional childhood is all. Sam’s in eight grade? And how many schools has it taken to get him there?”
More than eight, Dean knew. “So? Look at him. He’s a smart little geek.”
“That isn’t the point and you know it.”
“Okay, so Dad wasn’t the best role model. I get that.” Dean drank his coffee and watched John play. “Did you know his father abused him?”
“He told you that?”
Dean nodded. “I never knew. He never told us.” He sighed. “His mother died, probably killed by my grandfather. They ruled it suicide. No wonder Dad joined the Marines when he was seventeen.” Dean stood and paced around a little. Just thinking about it made him angry every single time. “So maybe he wasn’t the best father, but he wasn’t the worst either.”
“And now you think you can give him a better life?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.” Dean sighed and sat back down. “I want to try.”
Jim looked at him and it felt like he was sizing Dean up. “You don’t have to do it alone.”
“Yeah, I know. But I’m not moving in on you. No offense, but your place isn’t exactly my style.”
Jim smiled and nodded. “I remember. At least consider moving closer, so I can help when you need it?”
Dean had considered that. It wasn’t a bad plan compared to some of the others he’d considered. “After the semester is over. The kid’s just getting settled in, I don’t want to pull him out.”
“Come for Christmas.” Jim said, standing and putting his coffee cup in the trash by the bench. “I’ll help you find a place, line up some work.”
Dean hated admitting he needed the help, but washing dishes in some local diner wasn’t exactly going to keep them in the lap of luxury. In fact it was barely going to keep a roof over their heads. “Christmas.” It seemed like a lifetime away.
“Oh, and you can tell Bobby I’m not mad at him. He can come by once in a while if he wants.”
Jim chuckled. “I’ll tell him. You call me if you need anything.”
“Thanks.” Dean stood to hug the older man, relieved somehow to have something of a plan.
