The Kid, Part 6, Supernatural AU, PG
Aug. 2nd, 2008 03:36 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
phantismaFandom: Supernatural
Title: The Kid Part 6 ( All of The Kid can be foundHere)
Characters/Pairings: Dean, Sam, John, Pastor Jim
Rating: PG
Genre: GEN (did you even know I could GEN?)
Word Count: 3051
Summary: Dean is 17, Sam is 13. John is 6. The Winchesters are settling in to their new life. Sam defends a girl's honor and gets the Winchester's invited to dinner. Bobby visits.
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.
Dean blew on his hands to warm them as he headed for the car. The snow was melting and the weather starting to warm, but his fingers were like ice after working on some beat up old pick up with Smitty all afternoon.
“Winchester!”
Dean turned to look. Pete and Roger jogged up. “Where you off to in such a hurry?”
Dean shook his head. “Home, promised the boys I’d be home.”
“Well, we were planning a little trip out to some clubs, maybe get a little action.”
Dean grinned. They’d been talking all week about some strip joints downtown. “Thanks guys, maybe another time.”
“We know the bouncers, they’ll let you in.” Pete said, thumping him on the shoulder.
“Really, I can’t. I need to get home.”
“What you need, is a woman.” Roger said. “So she can stay home with the kids, and you can go out with the boys.”
“If I had a woman, Roger, what makes you think I’d want to go out with the boys, when I could go home and bang my woman?” Dean twirled his keys and opened the door of the Impala. “See you guys on Monday.”
He chuckled as he headed out. The guys were good to him for the most part and Roger, in particular, was a good teacher. Dean had already learned a lot from him in the few months he’d been working there. Neither one of them was married, though Pete was divorced, and they went out together a lot.
It was nice that they wanted to include him, and he was pretty sure he’d get by on whatever fake ID he wanted to use, his official fake ID had him at twenty now. He’d been eighteen a whole two months, and some days he felt like he was going on forty.
He pulled into the driveway and climbed out of the car. It was Friday, and he’d promised Sam they could go out to dinner. Which meant he needed to shower off the smell of the garage and find something to wear that wasn’t grease stained.
Dean dropped his keys on the table near the door. Sam looked up from his book, the whole left side of his face was black and blue and swollen.
“Sam, what happened?”
John came out of the kitchen with a towel and a bag of ice. “Just a little misunderstanding.” Sam said, taking the ice bag from John. “Thanks.”
John looked spooked. “He got in a fight.”
Sam held the bag of ice to his face. “It wasn’t a big deal.”
“They were big and Sam beat them.”
Sam sighed and looked up at Dean. “Two guys were giving this girl a hard time. That’s all.”
Dean pulled his hand away to look at his face. “Guys? How old were these guys?”
Sam shook his head. “I don’t know, older than me. Not as old as you.” He pressed the ice back to his face.
“So, you beat them?”
“Yeah, my face beat the shit out their hands.” Sam said. “The girl got away, and they left when I ducked out of the way and the one guy hit the tree instead of me. I think he broke his hand.”
“He cried.” John said. “The other guy, not Sam. Sammy was brave.”
Sam smiled and ruffled his hair. “I was stupid.”
Dean disagreed. “I don’t think you were stupid.”
There was a knock at the door. Dean went to answer it. On the porch was a young girl Sam’s age and what he assumed was her mother. “Mr. Winchester?”
Dean nodded. “Yeah, I guess. Call me Dean.”
The woman smiled and held out her hand. “I’m Margaret Answeld, this is my daughter Elizabeth.”
Dean looked over his shoulder at Sam who was standing now and coming closer.
“Elizabeth said that your…boy…helped her out?”
“Oh, you must be the girl.” Dean turned to Sam mouthing “she’s hot” and Sam rolled his eyes. For a thirteen year old girl, she was a looker. Pretty black hair and green eyes, and judging from her mother, she was going to fill out in all the right places in a few years. “This is my brother.”
Sam pushed him aside. “Hey, I’m Sam.”
“See, Mom, I told you.” Elizabeth said, looking up at her mother. “Those guys have been harassing me for weeks.”
“They’re bad news, Taylor and Thomas.” Margaret offered. “I’ve tried talking to their father, but it hasn’t helped.”
Sam grinned. “I think it’ll be a while before they try anything else.”
“Oh my, look at your face.”
“I’m fine. Just a little bruise.”
“Well, we’d like to thank you.” Margaret said. “How about dinner? Tomorrow night? Both of you, of course.”
John pushed his way between Sam and Dean, looking up at them.
“Oh, hello.”
Dean grinned and ruffled his hair. “This is my boy. John.”
“Well, all three of you then. We’re down the road at 456 Dainridge. Say, six?”
Dean wasn’t sure he wanted to have dinner with this woman and her daughter, but it was obvious Sam did. “Sure, sounds like fun.”
“Great. It was nice to meet you.”
“Well, my brother the hero.” Dean joked as they closed the door.
Sam punched him in the arm. “Jerk.”
Dean turned him to get a better look at his face. “Better keep the ice on that.”
“I’m hungry.” John declared.
“Me too.” Dean agreed, picking him up and swinging him around to his back. “Let me grab a quick shower and we’ll go get dinner.”
Sam came down the stairs dressed in his best clothes, which weren’t a whole lot better than the rest of his clothes, his hair combed and smoothed down. The bruising on his face was ugly and mottled, but aside from that the kid looked good.
Dean whistled and Sam rolled his eyes. “Sammy, if I didn’t know better, I’d think you liked this girl.”
“Don’t you embarrass me.” Sam said through clenched teeth. “We’re gonna be late.”
“John! Let’s go.” Dean yelled up the stairs.
John came barreling down, stomping in his cowboy boots and hat. He threw himself off the last stair and into Dean’s arms. “I wanna ride!”
Dean swung him up onto his shoulders. “You hold on tight, cowboy. Wouldn’t want you to get thrown.”
John’s hands grabbed Dean’s chin. “No buckin’ bronc can throw me!”
Dean ran for the door, jostling John around. John squealed with delight. Dean ducked so they could get through the door and bounced down the steps. “So much for not embarrassing me.” Sam said as he closed and locked the door.
“Sammy!” John yelled as Dean made for the road. “Come on!”
Dean settled into a walk as Sam caught up, laughing at Sam’s dour expression. “You like this girl? What was her name?”
“Elizabeth.” Sam said. “And yeah, okay? I like her.”
“Okay.” Dean nodded. “John and I will both be on our best behavior, won’t we Kid?”
He looked up at John who nodded. “Best.”
Sam didn’t look like he believed Dean, but Dean just smiled and reached out to ruffle his hair. Sam pulled away and smoothed a hand over it. Margaret was standing on the front porch when they got there, smiling.
“Right on time, please come in.”
Dean lifted John off his shoulders and put him down. “Thank you.”
Margaret followed them in. “You all know Elizabeth, this is my eldest daughter, Sarah. Sarah, this is Dean, his brother Sam and Dean’s son, John.”
Dean smiled as Sarah reached out her hand. Like her little sister, Sarah was a looker, her black hair was pulled back out of her face and a light dusting of freckles dotted her pale skin. She was maybe eighteen, if Dean was lucky. “Son? You must have started young.”
Dean blushed and nodded. “Well, I was quite the hellion when I was younger.”
“Dinner is just about ready, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll get the table set.” Margaret excused herself as Sarah turned to Sam.
“Elizabeth hasn’t stopped talking about you. To hear her talk, you saved her life…and her virtue.”
Sam’s blush was spectacular and he sputtered trying to respond. John saved him the trouble. “Sammy hit them and kicked them in the privates.”
Dean laughed and pulled John to him. “I don’t think Sammy needs your help, Kid.”
Sarah led them into the dining room. Elizabeth seemed as unable to talk as Sam was. Dean didn’t remember ever being so awkward around girls. He got John settled into a chair with a napkin around his neck.
Sam grabbed the napkin from Dean before he could do the same to him and Dean grinned before sitting between them. “Smells great.”
“Mom makes the best pot roast.” Elizabeth said.
There were mashed potatoes and gravy and corn and pot roast. “Make sure you save room for dessert.” Margaret said as she sat. “The girls made a cake together.”
“So these boys been bothering you for a while?” Dean asked Elizabeth after the initial rush of food passing was done.
She toyed with her food and made a face. “They started with teasing me about my dad…and then because I…”
Sarah cut in. “They’re pricks.”
“Sarah!”
“Well, Mom, it’s true. They can’t get a girl their own age, so they go after younger ones. Taylor keeps asking her to be his girlfriend and tries to hold her hand and carry her books.”
Dean nodded. He’d known enough pricks like that in his life. “Gotcha. Low life scum.” He took a drink from his milk. “Great meal, Mrs. Answeld. Better than we’ve had in a long time.”
“Please, call me Margaret.”
“Okay, Margaret. I’m not much of a cook, I’m afraid.”
A look of concern crossed her face, and Dean anticipated the next question. “My mom died when Sam was still a baby. Dad did the best he could, but…well, he’s gone now too. So it’s just us.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to pry.”
Dean smiled tightly. “No, it’s okay. We’re adjusting.”
“I’m helping.” John said, not really looking up.
Dean looked at Sam, then up at Margaret. “He…well, he came to live with us at about the same time we lost my father.”
She smiled tenderly. “Love always helps heal the sting.”
“Yes ma’am.”
The rest of dinner was unremarkable, except for how quiet Sam was. Normally Dean couldn’t get him to shut up. Margaret sent them home with half the cake and leftovers.
“So, do you know what happened to their Dad?” Dean asked as they neared the house.
“No. Never asked.”
John was yawning. Sam’s feet were dragging. Dean stopped when he saw the truck parked in front of the house. Sam grabbed his arm. “Dean, you promised.”
“Just go on inside. Get John ready for bed.” He put the bag of food into Sam’s hands before he headed inside.
Bobby got out of the truck as they got close. “Hey boys.”
“Bobby.” Dean watched Sam and John head into the house. “You want to come in?”
Bobby shook his head. “Can’t stay. Got a job.” Bobby scratched at his head. “Thought maybe you could lend me a hand.”
“You asking me for help?”
“Need another pair of hands.”
Dean saw the movement in the window and glanced up. Sam was watching. “I told Sam I wouldn’t.”
“So you just giving up?” Bobby asked.
Dean cursed and stuck his hands in his pockets. “You make it sound like I’m chickening out or something.”
“I just thought maybe you’d want to pick up where your Daddy left off.”
“Want to?” Dean shrugged a little and looked up at Sam again. “There’s a part of me that does, Bobby. Believe me. There’s a part of me that wants to find the fucking demon that took my mother and tear it apart with my bare hands.” He sighed and shook his head. “But, I can’t. I’m not my father.”
Bobby nodded and sighed. “No, I know.”
“What happens to them if something happens to me?” Foster homes at best. And not together. No one to watch their backs. “Maybe when Sam’s older.”
They were quiet for a few minutes, then Bobby took a deep breath. “You boys okay?”
“Yeah, Bobby. We’re doing good.”
“You call me if you need something.”
Dean nodded and let the older man pull him into a hug. “Come by if you’re in town.” Dean said, though he got the feeling it would be a long time before they saw Bobby again.
Bobby thumped his back and let him go, circling around to get into the truck. Dean waved as he drove off, and swallowed the voice in his head that said he should have gone with him.
Sam met him at the bottom of the stairs. “What did he want?”
Dean exhaled and let go of the feeling he should be out there hunting. It was what his father would have wanted. Dean lifted his eyes to meet Sam’s. “He just wanted to make sure we were okay. He was passing through on his way to a hunt.”
Sam squinted at him. “He didn’t want you to go with him?”
“No, he knows I can’t leave you two alone.” Dean hoped Sam wouldn’t see through the lie. “My life is here now. With you and John.”
Sam was suddenly wrapped around him, hugging him tightly. “Thank you.”
He was gone before Dean could respond, back up the stairs behind his bedroom door.
“I think Mr. Answeld was killed by a werewolf.” Sam said without warning a few weeks later.
Dean looked up from under the hood of the Impala and wiped his hands. “What makes you say that?”
Sam crossed his arms. “I’m not stupid.”
“I need a little more than that to go on.” Dean stood up, his eye skipping across the yard to where John was riding his bike.
“He was mauled on a hunting trip. When they found his body, the heart was missing.”
That did sound like a werewolf. “Could have been anything, Sam.” Dean said anyway. “Not every bad thing is supernatural in nature.”
“Beth cries about it. A lot.”
“Beth?”
Sam rolled his eyes. “Elizabeth.”
“You two been spending a lot of time together.” It was just an observation, but Sam groaned and walked away. Dean grinned.
“Look!” John yelled as he rode past the end of the drive way.
“Good, Kid.” Dean called after him. John turned and grinned at him, just before losing control and toppling over. Dean was half way across the yard before he heard the cry. John was sobbing when he got there and holding his knee.
His jeans were torn up and Dean could see blood. His hands were scrapped up pretty good too. “Okay, I got you.” Dean scooped him up and carried him into the house, yelling for Sam and the first aid kit. He got John settled on the couch as Sam jumped the last few stairs.
“What happened?”
“Just a little bike accident.” Dean said, settling on the coffee table to hold John’s hands up to the light. “Not too bad. Sammy, get us a wet cloth, would you?”
“It hurts!” Big tears rolled down John’s face. “Dad, it hurts!”
“I know.” None of the scrapes were bad, but Dean knew from experience that those kinds of wounds hurt like crazy. His own tumble had been off a rusted out old bike he’d found in the woods. It took his father an hour to pick all the gravel out of his knee.
Dean took the cloth from Sam and pressed it to John’s palms. “Let’s see if we can save the jeans.” He unbuttoned John’s pants and helped him get them off. John shivered a little, sitting there in his Spiderman undies while Dean bent to look at his knee.
“Dude, bet this leaves a scar.” Dean said and John sniffled, but looked up with a hopeful grin.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Girls dig scars.”
John made a face. “Scars are manly. Jonas has a scar where they had to cut him open to take bad stuff out of his tummy.”
“Manly, eh?” Dean pulled the antiseptic out of the kit. “This might sting, but you’re manly, right?”
John sat up straight and nodded. “I can take it.”
Dean did his best not to chuckle, and mostly succeeded. He squeezed out some of the liquid and John hissed, though he tried to hide it. Dean blew lightly on the scrape, then took the big Band-Aid Sam was handing him. “Okay, we have to keep it clean or it’ll get all gross. Better?”
John nodded. “Good. Go get some pants on.”
Sam sat on the couch. “You’re really good at that.”
“I had a lot of practice.” Dean said, smiling at his brother.
“I forget sometimes.” Sam’s eyes followed where John had gone scurrying up the stairs. “It hasn’t even been a year and I forget what it was like.”
Dean sat beside him and drew him into a hug.
“Is it wrong to like him better this way?” Sam asked after a while. “I mean, I love Dad.” He looked up at Dean. “But sometimes I think you’re a better father.”
“It couldn’t have been easy for him, Sam.” Dean said after a long silence.
“It isn’t any easier for you.” Sam replied, looking up at him.
No, it really wasn’t. Dean was suddenly very tired. He stifled a yawn. “It isn’t easy for you either. I know.”
Sam shook his head. “I’m fine, Dean.”
“Don’t think I don’t realize, Sam. You were supposed to be the youngest, you were supposed to get to be a kid. Now, you have to look out for him. I’m sorry I have to lean on you so much.”
“I had a good teacher.” Sam hugged him as much as he could in the awkward position. Dean kissed the top of his head and yawned again. “Want me to make dinner?”
“Just give me a few minutes. I’ll do it.”
“I’ll go check on John.”
“He’s probably up there looking at his knee, waiting for it to get gross.” Dean sighed as Sam got up. He closed his eyes, feeling the waves of fatigue wash over him. He’d been pushing hard the last few weeks, working six days at the garage and helping the Answelds with some repairs on Sundays. He’d just rest a bit, then figure out dinner.
Title: The Kid Part 6 ( All of The Kid can be foundHere)
Characters/Pairings: Dean, Sam, John, Pastor Jim
Rating: PG
Genre: GEN (did you even know I could GEN?)
Word Count: 3051
Summary: Dean is 17, Sam is 13. John is 6. The Winchesters are settling in to their new life. Sam defends a girl's honor and gets the Winchester's invited to dinner. Bobby visits.
A/Ns & Warnings: Um. This is at least partially
varkelton's fault. De-aging fic. Dean blew on his hands to warm them as he headed for the car. The snow was melting and the weather starting to warm, but his fingers were like ice after working on some beat up old pick up with Smitty all afternoon.
“Winchester!”
Dean turned to look. Pete and Roger jogged up. “Where you off to in such a hurry?”
Dean shook his head. “Home, promised the boys I’d be home.”
“Well, we were planning a little trip out to some clubs, maybe get a little action.”
Dean grinned. They’d been talking all week about some strip joints downtown. “Thanks guys, maybe another time.”
“We know the bouncers, they’ll let you in.” Pete said, thumping him on the shoulder.
“Really, I can’t. I need to get home.”
“What you need, is a woman.” Roger said. “So she can stay home with the kids, and you can go out with the boys.”
“If I had a woman, Roger, what makes you think I’d want to go out with the boys, when I could go home and bang my woman?” Dean twirled his keys and opened the door of the Impala. “See you guys on Monday.”
He chuckled as he headed out. The guys were good to him for the most part and Roger, in particular, was a good teacher. Dean had already learned a lot from him in the few months he’d been working there. Neither one of them was married, though Pete was divorced, and they went out together a lot.
It was nice that they wanted to include him, and he was pretty sure he’d get by on whatever fake ID he wanted to use, his official fake ID had him at twenty now. He’d been eighteen a whole two months, and some days he felt like he was going on forty.
He pulled into the driveway and climbed out of the car. It was Friday, and he’d promised Sam they could go out to dinner. Which meant he needed to shower off the smell of the garage and find something to wear that wasn’t grease stained.
Dean dropped his keys on the table near the door. Sam looked up from his book, the whole left side of his face was black and blue and swollen.
“Sam, what happened?”
John came out of the kitchen with a towel and a bag of ice. “Just a little misunderstanding.” Sam said, taking the ice bag from John. “Thanks.”
John looked spooked. “He got in a fight.”
Sam held the bag of ice to his face. “It wasn’t a big deal.”
“They were big and Sam beat them.”
Sam sighed and looked up at Dean. “Two guys were giving this girl a hard time. That’s all.”
Dean pulled his hand away to look at his face. “Guys? How old were these guys?”
Sam shook his head. “I don’t know, older than me. Not as old as you.” He pressed the ice back to his face.
“So, you beat them?”
“Yeah, my face beat the shit out their hands.” Sam said. “The girl got away, and they left when I ducked out of the way and the one guy hit the tree instead of me. I think he broke his hand.”
“He cried.” John said. “The other guy, not Sam. Sammy was brave.”
Sam smiled and ruffled his hair. “I was stupid.”
Dean disagreed. “I don’t think you were stupid.”
There was a knock at the door. Dean went to answer it. On the porch was a young girl Sam’s age and what he assumed was her mother. “Mr. Winchester?”
Dean nodded. “Yeah, I guess. Call me Dean.”
The woman smiled and held out her hand. “I’m Margaret Answeld, this is my daughter Elizabeth.”
Dean looked over his shoulder at Sam who was standing now and coming closer.
“Elizabeth said that your…boy…helped her out?”
“Oh, you must be the girl.” Dean turned to Sam mouthing “she’s hot” and Sam rolled his eyes. For a thirteen year old girl, she was a looker. Pretty black hair and green eyes, and judging from her mother, she was going to fill out in all the right places in a few years. “This is my brother.”
Sam pushed him aside. “Hey, I’m Sam.”
“See, Mom, I told you.” Elizabeth said, looking up at her mother. “Those guys have been harassing me for weeks.”
“They’re bad news, Taylor and Thomas.” Margaret offered. “I’ve tried talking to their father, but it hasn’t helped.”
Sam grinned. “I think it’ll be a while before they try anything else.”
“Oh my, look at your face.”
“I’m fine. Just a little bruise.”
“Well, we’d like to thank you.” Margaret said. “How about dinner? Tomorrow night? Both of you, of course.”
John pushed his way between Sam and Dean, looking up at them.
“Oh, hello.”
Dean grinned and ruffled his hair. “This is my boy. John.”
“Well, all three of you then. We’re down the road at 456 Dainridge. Say, six?”
Dean wasn’t sure he wanted to have dinner with this woman and her daughter, but it was obvious Sam did. “Sure, sounds like fun.”
“Great. It was nice to meet you.”
“Well, my brother the hero.” Dean joked as they closed the door.
Sam punched him in the arm. “Jerk.”
Dean turned him to get a better look at his face. “Better keep the ice on that.”
“I’m hungry.” John declared.
“Me too.” Dean agreed, picking him up and swinging him around to his back. “Let me grab a quick shower and we’ll go get dinner.”
Sam came down the stairs dressed in his best clothes, which weren’t a whole lot better than the rest of his clothes, his hair combed and smoothed down. The bruising on his face was ugly and mottled, but aside from that the kid looked good.
Dean whistled and Sam rolled his eyes. “Sammy, if I didn’t know better, I’d think you liked this girl.”
“Don’t you embarrass me.” Sam said through clenched teeth. “We’re gonna be late.”
“John! Let’s go.” Dean yelled up the stairs.
John came barreling down, stomping in his cowboy boots and hat. He threw himself off the last stair and into Dean’s arms. “I wanna ride!”
Dean swung him up onto his shoulders. “You hold on tight, cowboy. Wouldn’t want you to get thrown.”
John’s hands grabbed Dean’s chin. “No buckin’ bronc can throw me!”
Dean ran for the door, jostling John around. John squealed with delight. Dean ducked so they could get through the door and bounced down the steps. “So much for not embarrassing me.” Sam said as he closed and locked the door.
“Sammy!” John yelled as Dean made for the road. “Come on!”
Dean settled into a walk as Sam caught up, laughing at Sam’s dour expression. “You like this girl? What was her name?”
“Elizabeth.” Sam said. “And yeah, okay? I like her.”
“Okay.” Dean nodded. “John and I will both be on our best behavior, won’t we Kid?”
He looked up at John who nodded. “Best.”
Sam didn’t look like he believed Dean, but Dean just smiled and reached out to ruffle his hair. Sam pulled away and smoothed a hand over it. Margaret was standing on the front porch when they got there, smiling.
“Right on time, please come in.”
Dean lifted John off his shoulders and put him down. “Thank you.”
Margaret followed them in. “You all know Elizabeth, this is my eldest daughter, Sarah. Sarah, this is Dean, his brother Sam and Dean’s son, John.”
Dean smiled as Sarah reached out her hand. Like her little sister, Sarah was a looker, her black hair was pulled back out of her face and a light dusting of freckles dotted her pale skin. She was maybe eighteen, if Dean was lucky. “Son? You must have started young.”
Dean blushed and nodded. “Well, I was quite the hellion when I was younger.”
“Dinner is just about ready, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll get the table set.” Margaret excused herself as Sarah turned to Sam.
“Elizabeth hasn’t stopped talking about you. To hear her talk, you saved her life…and her virtue.”
Sam’s blush was spectacular and he sputtered trying to respond. John saved him the trouble. “Sammy hit them and kicked them in the privates.”
Dean laughed and pulled John to him. “I don’t think Sammy needs your help, Kid.”
Sarah led them into the dining room. Elizabeth seemed as unable to talk as Sam was. Dean didn’t remember ever being so awkward around girls. He got John settled into a chair with a napkin around his neck.
Sam grabbed the napkin from Dean before he could do the same to him and Dean grinned before sitting between them. “Smells great.”
“Mom makes the best pot roast.” Elizabeth said.
There were mashed potatoes and gravy and corn and pot roast. “Make sure you save room for dessert.” Margaret said as she sat. “The girls made a cake together.”
“So these boys been bothering you for a while?” Dean asked Elizabeth after the initial rush of food passing was done.
She toyed with her food and made a face. “They started with teasing me about my dad…and then because I…”
Sarah cut in. “They’re pricks.”
“Sarah!”
“Well, Mom, it’s true. They can’t get a girl their own age, so they go after younger ones. Taylor keeps asking her to be his girlfriend and tries to hold her hand and carry her books.”
Dean nodded. He’d known enough pricks like that in his life. “Gotcha. Low life scum.” He took a drink from his milk. “Great meal, Mrs. Answeld. Better than we’ve had in a long time.”
“Please, call me Margaret.”
“Okay, Margaret. I’m not much of a cook, I’m afraid.”
A look of concern crossed her face, and Dean anticipated the next question. “My mom died when Sam was still a baby. Dad did the best he could, but…well, he’s gone now too. So it’s just us.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to pry.”
Dean smiled tightly. “No, it’s okay. We’re adjusting.”
“I’m helping.” John said, not really looking up.
Dean looked at Sam, then up at Margaret. “He…well, he came to live with us at about the same time we lost my father.”
She smiled tenderly. “Love always helps heal the sting.”
“Yes ma’am.”
The rest of dinner was unremarkable, except for how quiet Sam was. Normally Dean couldn’t get him to shut up. Margaret sent them home with half the cake and leftovers.
“So, do you know what happened to their Dad?” Dean asked as they neared the house.
“No. Never asked.”
John was yawning. Sam’s feet were dragging. Dean stopped when he saw the truck parked in front of the house. Sam grabbed his arm. “Dean, you promised.”
“Just go on inside. Get John ready for bed.” He put the bag of food into Sam’s hands before he headed inside.
Bobby got out of the truck as they got close. “Hey boys.”
“Bobby.” Dean watched Sam and John head into the house. “You want to come in?”
Bobby shook his head. “Can’t stay. Got a job.” Bobby scratched at his head. “Thought maybe you could lend me a hand.”
“You asking me for help?”
“Need another pair of hands.”
Dean saw the movement in the window and glanced up. Sam was watching. “I told Sam I wouldn’t.”
“So you just giving up?” Bobby asked.
Dean cursed and stuck his hands in his pockets. “You make it sound like I’m chickening out or something.”
“I just thought maybe you’d want to pick up where your Daddy left off.”
“Want to?” Dean shrugged a little and looked up at Sam again. “There’s a part of me that does, Bobby. Believe me. There’s a part of me that wants to find the fucking demon that took my mother and tear it apart with my bare hands.” He sighed and shook his head. “But, I can’t. I’m not my father.”
Bobby nodded and sighed. “No, I know.”
“What happens to them if something happens to me?” Foster homes at best. And not together. No one to watch their backs. “Maybe when Sam’s older.”
They were quiet for a few minutes, then Bobby took a deep breath. “You boys okay?”
“Yeah, Bobby. We’re doing good.”
“You call me if you need something.”
Dean nodded and let the older man pull him into a hug. “Come by if you’re in town.” Dean said, though he got the feeling it would be a long time before they saw Bobby again.
Bobby thumped his back and let him go, circling around to get into the truck. Dean waved as he drove off, and swallowed the voice in his head that said he should have gone with him.
Sam met him at the bottom of the stairs. “What did he want?”
Dean exhaled and let go of the feeling he should be out there hunting. It was what his father would have wanted. Dean lifted his eyes to meet Sam’s. “He just wanted to make sure we were okay. He was passing through on his way to a hunt.”
Sam squinted at him. “He didn’t want you to go with him?”
“No, he knows I can’t leave you two alone.” Dean hoped Sam wouldn’t see through the lie. “My life is here now. With you and John.”
Sam was suddenly wrapped around him, hugging him tightly. “Thank you.”
He was gone before Dean could respond, back up the stairs behind his bedroom door.
“I think Mr. Answeld was killed by a werewolf.” Sam said without warning a few weeks later.
Dean looked up from under the hood of the Impala and wiped his hands. “What makes you say that?”
Sam crossed his arms. “I’m not stupid.”
“I need a little more than that to go on.” Dean stood up, his eye skipping across the yard to where John was riding his bike.
“He was mauled on a hunting trip. When they found his body, the heart was missing.”
That did sound like a werewolf. “Could have been anything, Sam.” Dean said anyway. “Not every bad thing is supernatural in nature.”
“Beth cries about it. A lot.”
“Beth?”
Sam rolled his eyes. “Elizabeth.”
“You two been spending a lot of time together.” It was just an observation, but Sam groaned and walked away. Dean grinned.
“Look!” John yelled as he rode past the end of the drive way.
“Good, Kid.” Dean called after him. John turned and grinned at him, just before losing control and toppling over. Dean was half way across the yard before he heard the cry. John was sobbing when he got there and holding his knee.
His jeans were torn up and Dean could see blood. His hands were scrapped up pretty good too. “Okay, I got you.” Dean scooped him up and carried him into the house, yelling for Sam and the first aid kit. He got John settled on the couch as Sam jumped the last few stairs.
“What happened?”
“Just a little bike accident.” Dean said, settling on the coffee table to hold John’s hands up to the light. “Not too bad. Sammy, get us a wet cloth, would you?”
“It hurts!” Big tears rolled down John’s face. “Dad, it hurts!”
“I know.” None of the scrapes were bad, but Dean knew from experience that those kinds of wounds hurt like crazy. His own tumble had been off a rusted out old bike he’d found in the woods. It took his father an hour to pick all the gravel out of his knee.
Dean took the cloth from Sam and pressed it to John’s palms. “Let’s see if we can save the jeans.” He unbuttoned John’s pants and helped him get them off. John shivered a little, sitting there in his Spiderman undies while Dean bent to look at his knee.
“Dude, bet this leaves a scar.” Dean said and John sniffled, but looked up with a hopeful grin.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Girls dig scars.”
John made a face. “Scars are manly. Jonas has a scar where they had to cut him open to take bad stuff out of his tummy.”
“Manly, eh?” Dean pulled the antiseptic out of the kit. “This might sting, but you’re manly, right?”
John sat up straight and nodded. “I can take it.”
Dean did his best not to chuckle, and mostly succeeded. He squeezed out some of the liquid and John hissed, though he tried to hide it. Dean blew lightly on the scrape, then took the big Band-Aid Sam was handing him. “Okay, we have to keep it clean or it’ll get all gross. Better?”
John nodded. “Good. Go get some pants on.”
Sam sat on the couch. “You’re really good at that.”
“I had a lot of practice.” Dean said, smiling at his brother.
“I forget sometimes.” Sam’s eyes followed where John had gone scurrying up the stairs. “It hasn’t even been a year and I forget what it was like.”
Dean sat beside him and drew him into a hug.
“Is it wrong to like him better this way?” Sam asked after a while. “I mean, I love Dad.” He looked up at Dean. “But sometimes I think you’re a better father.”
“It couldn’t have been easy for him, Sam.” Dean said after a long silence.
“It isn’t any easier for you.” Sam replied, looking up at him.
No, it really wasn’t. Dean was suddenly very tired. He stifled a yawn. “It isn’t easy for you either. I know.”
Sam shook his head. “I’m fine, Dean.”
“Don’t think I don’t realize, Sam. You were supposed to be the youngest, you were supposed to get to be a kid. Now, you have to look out for him. I’m sorry I have to lean on you so much.”
“I had a good teacher.” Sam hugged him as much as he could in the awkward position. Dean kissed the top of his head and yawned again. “Want me to make dinner?”
“Just give me a few minutes. I’ll do it.”
“I’ll go check on John.”
“He’s probably up there looking at his knee, waiting for it to get gross.” Dean sighed as Sam got up. He closed his eyes, feeling the waves of fatigue wash over him. He’d been pushing hard the last few weeks, working six days at the garage and helping the Answelds with some repairs on Sundays. He’d just rest a bit, then figure out dinner.
