The Kid, Part 12-- Supernatural, PG-13

[phantisma]

Fandom: Supernatural
Title: The Kid Part 12 ( All of The Kid can be found Here)
Characters/Pairings: Dean, Sam, John, Missouri
Rating: PG
Genre: GEN (did you even know I could GEN?)
Word Count: 2466
Summary: Dean is 18, Sam is 14. John is 6. Missouri and Sam have a "talk". Sam sort of blows up. John tells Sam that he's scared, and it isn't about what Sam thinks it is.


A/Ns & Warnings: Um. This is at least partially varkelton's fault. De-aging fic. This was written primarily with voice recognition software and edited with one-handed typing. Please forgive any typos.


Pretty art provided by fallen_for_lost






"I don't need a babysitter, Dean."

"I didn't say that you did, Sam."

"Then why is she still here?" Sam crossed his arms and glared at his brother.

Dean scratched the back of his neck and looked like he was trying to think of a reason that wouldn't just make Sam angrier. "She's here for the kid. He's still pretty freaked out."

"And you think somehow she's going to help that?"

"He seems to like her." Dean didn't really go into all the reasons why. It was supposed to be enough that John liked Missouri. Sam could hear what he wasn't saying anyway. Dean wanted a grown up around. Dean was afraid.

"Look, I'm only going to be gone a few hours. I have to run into work and help Smitty with a few things. I'll be home in time for dinner."

Sam could see the fear in his brother's eyes. A demon was hunting their father. Probably more than one. And Dean was afraid. Sam wasn't used to Dean being afraid, not of anything.

Sam followed Dean downstairs, ignoring the woman on the couch for the moment and following Dean out onto the porch.

"Just be nice, okay Sammy?"

"It's Sam." He knew it was supposed to be his job now to reassure Dean that he'd take care of John, that everything would be okay. But Sam couldn't bring himself to say anything at all.

He watched Dean pull out and just as he was turning to go back inside, another car pulled in. Sam frowned and moved down the steps. Matt Flick waved from beside his beat up Mustang. "Shit." He'd forgotten.

"Winchester."

"Hey, Matt." He stopped at the end of the sidewalk. He didn't want Matt walking in to the chaos of his house with a strange woman in it and John acting oddly. "You know, I forgot you were coming over."

"Bad time?" Matt pulled a hand through his messy hair.

Sam sighed and nodded. "Family shit, you know?"

"I have three brothers. I get it."

Three brothers didn't begin to compare to the Winchester family drama, but Sam wasn’t going there just now. "I just…things are tense right now."

Matt nodded, moving in closer. His blue eyes were bright and his smile brighter. "How about I give you my notes, and you can study them. We can get together Friday, right? Unless you have big Christmas shopping plans."

Sam rolled his eyes. "No, we're not…big shopping people."

Matt handed over a notebook and a stack of library books. "You want to meet Friday at 9? You can come to my place if you want."

His place would definitely be less distracting. "Yeah, that would be good."

"Bring your swim suit. We have an indoor pool."

Sam smiled and nodded. "You do?"

"Better to practice all winter, right? My parents are determined I'll make the Olympic team." Matt rolled his eyes. "I just want to get into a good college."

"I'm sure you will." Sam's heartbeat sped up a little, watching the way Matt's lithe body turned, how he leaned in closer before stepping back. All he could think about was Elizabeth and her theory that Matt was into him. Like, really into him.

Matt grinned and Sam blushed from the intensity. "So Friday then?"

"Oh, hey, need your address."

Matt tapped the notebook in Sam's hands. "It's in there. My phone number too."

Sam watched him pull out and then headed back inside. He still had more homework to finish and now a bunch of material to get through before Friday. He opened the door to find Missouri waiting for him. He didn't need this on top of everything else.

"Look, I know Dean said you could stay, and I'm sure that John likes you or whatever, but don't expect me to be keeping you company. I have work to do."

"You got quite the mouth on you, don't you?" She glowered down at him, her hands on her hips.

"You're not my mother."

"No, I'm not."

"Then get out of my way."

"No. Not until you listen to me."

Sam pushed past her, but she grabbed his shoulder. "You may not remember me, Sam, but I was a friend of your father's."

"Good for you."

"I realize this is difficult for you."

"You realize that, do you?" Sam snapped and turned to face her.

"I understand--"

"Understand? You? How?" Sam threw his books on the floor. "You understand what it's like to never know your mother? To grow up in the back seat of a car and shitty motel rooms, never able to tell anyone who you really are? You understand how it feels to never know if your father is going to come home at night, or whether he'll be bleeding when he does? To know how to pick locks and steal a car before you're old enough to even drive a car?"

He stormed away, then back again. "You know what it feels like to go to bed at night just praying that you'll get to finish the semester in the same school you started it in? Or that maybe you'll get to make friends this time? Or not look like some penniless homeless kid in jeans that don't fit and have holes in them? To just want to be fucking normal? Only you have a father who hunts demons and ghost and whatever ever other supernatural bullshit he can find while he's looking for the one that killed your mother, and every time he looks at you he sees her. He sees her with her stomach ripped open and flames eating her and after a while he can't really look at you at all, except when he's drunk or drugged up on painkillers, and you know he loves you even if he never says it, he just can't look at you and not see her die."

Sam was shaking, his whole body trembling with the emotion spilling over and out and through him. His face was red, his heart hammering. "And then, just when you're pretty sure nothing worse can happen than him coming home all torn up after some hunt, he doesn't come home at all. And you hate yourself for thinking that maybe its better that way…but even that isn't the worst of it. You think it is. You think that's as bad as it gets, and then one morning you get up and your goddamn father is a fucking six year old kid."

Missouri held out a hand but he shook it off, crossing his arms and shivering. "And now you have to take care of him, you have to pretend he's your brother or nephew or whatever and you have to take care of him. He needs you. And he's not your father, not anymore…but he is…and it isn't fair."

"No, Sam, it isn't fair." He felt Missouri approaching him, her steps heavy on the floor.

Sam turned. Screamed. "It isn't fair! It isn't fucking fair!" He threw the punch without thinking and she only barely moved out of the way, her arm deflecting his hand enough to grab his shoulder and pull him close. "It isn't fair."

Missouri's hand soothed down over his back while Sam raged, struggling against her tight hold and screaming into her chest over and over. Eventually, his knees wobbled and gave out and Missouri eased him down softly. Sobs wracked through him while she whispered softly to him.

Sam sobbed until he thought he was going to be sick and pulled back shakily. Missouri wiped a finger under his eye. Sam tried to look away, but she took hold of his chin and turned his face back to his. Her eyes were dark and filled with compassion and Sam was pretty sure he wouldn't be able to withstand any platitudes or assurances that things were going to be okay.

He knew better.

"Now, it's my turn." Missouri said, helping Sam up off the floor and sitting him in the chair. "You're right. It isn't fair. Your daddy put a lot on you growing up. And you ain't asked for none of it either. I know that. I know you're feeling alone and plenty scared. You got all this anger rolling around inside you and no way to let it out. Ain't no one here saying you ain't got the right to it."

Sam wiped at his face and took a shaky breath, looking up to find Missouri pacing away from him. He opened his mouth to speak and she raised a hand. "I'm not finished."

She got as far as the stairs, turning to look up them at the closed door of John's bedroom. "You and your brother have had it hard. Lord knows we tried to tell your daddy this was no life for young-ens. He loved you both something fierce. Still does. Just, not the same way."

Missouri sighed and turned to look at him. "I can't begin to know why this happened Sam. Maybe your daddy somehow made an unconscious wishing for something simpler, easier. Maybe he found a way to escape some bad something that was heading his way. I don't know. What I do know, is that in this year he's been with you like this, you and your brother have already changed him. That little boy up there has a chance to grow up with love in his life, something he didn't have the first go round. Not once his momma died."

"That doesn't make this any easier." Sam said quietly. He shivered a little, imagining John like he was now, so young and trusting in the hands of someone who would hurt him.

Missouri's eyes narrowed. "Never promised you easy." She crossed back to stand in front of him. "You love your father." It wasn't a question, just a simple statement. "And you're furious angry with him at the same time. Every teenager in America feels the same, Sam. Maybe not for the same reasons, but you ain't special or as alone as you might think. But, I'm here to tell you that it's time you get yourself over it, and start minding your own self. Or you're gonna find a whole new meaning for dark and angry."

Sam scowled at her. "What do you mean?"

"You a magnet for demons, boy. All that seething anger and fear and lust you got going on--"

Sam stood abruptly. "Wait. What? I don't…I'm not…"

She raised an eyebrow at him. "So that wasn't a houseful of hormonal teenage lust rolling off you when that boy left? Don't even try to lie to me Samuel Winchester."

He swallowed and shook his head. "Fine. Whatever."

"That's right. You know I'm telling the truth." She smiled a little and reached out to ruffle his hair. "It ain't nothing new. Just normal teenage figuring stuff out, but when mixed in with all this Winchester crap, it's a recipe for bringing home something not natural, Sam."

He shivered, imagining what it would be like…to have something crawl up inside him and control him.

"You don't ever want to know." Missouri said softly.

"So…what do I do?"

"Work it out. Get through that anger and get a grip on that fear. John's got enemies gonna come looking for him and they're gonna find you first."

Great. Like he didn't have enough to worry about already.

"And while you're at it, you might lighten up on your brother. He's doing the best he can."

Sam sighed and nodded. "Can I go now? I really do have more homework."

"Go on with you. I'll get to fixin' supper." She paused at the door into the kitchen. "And normal ain't something you want Sam. Even if you think it is. You were born for this. To help people."

Sam rolled his eyes as he headed for his room. "I don't believe in destiny, Missouri."

"Don't have to believe in something for it to be true."



"Sam, can I come in?"

He looked up from the notebook filled with Matt's neat printed notes. "Yeah, Squirt. Come on in."

John was in his pajamas, but still wearing his cowboy boots and hat and dragging Mr. Turtle behind him. He closed the door and leaned on it for a minute.

Sam waited, figuring he had something on his mind. When he didn't say anything after a minute, Sam gestured for him to come closer. "I don't have all night Johnny. What's up?"

John stopped an arm's reach away. "I was scared." He didn't look up at Sam.

"I know, buddy. Dean told me."

John shook his head lightly. "No. I mean that too. But before, when we came home. You were angry."

"Not at you, John."

"It felt like you were angry at me." John looked up and there were unshed tears in his eyes. "You yelled at Dean, but it felt like you meant it for me."

John sniffed and brushed at the tears with Mr. Turtle's trunk. "You keep getting dark, Sam. Like the man. Dark inside and it scares me."

"I'm sorry, Johnny." More than anything Missouri had said, John's words cut through him. "Come here." Sam held his arms open and John came, falling into Sam's lap and wrapping his arms around him. "I don't ever want to scare you."

Sam held him for a second, until they both sniffled and Sam cleared his throat. John pulled back, but stayed in Sam's lap. "Sammy…are you scared?"

Sam nodded and brushed John's long bangs out of his eyes. "Sometimes, John."

"Of the dark man?"

"Yes. Of the dark man and others like them."

"I think he wanted me." John kept his face turned down, buried against Mr. Turtle. "I think he was looking for me, but didn't know I was me. Because I'm not who I used to be."

Sam felt his chest tighten. "What…what do you mean?"

John shrugged. "Before I came to you, I was someone else. My father…my other father…he knew. He was afraid of me. He was dark inside too."

Sam closed his eyes. He couldn't be angry with him, not with this John who loved him and trusted him and said things that made Sam crazy with the need to protect him. "I don't think it matters who you were before, Johnny." Sam said softly. "All that matters is who you are now. You're John Winchester. And no matter how many dark men come looking for you, none of them are going to get you. I won't let them."

Sam pulled John close, hugging him tight.

John's hands rose up to grab Sam's face, his eyes searching out Sam's. After a long minute he smiled. "There you are Sammy."

"Right here, Johnny. Right here."