The Kid, Part 15 -- Supernatural, PG
Nov. 11th, 2008 01:42 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
phantismaFandom: Supernatural
Title: The Kid Part 14 ( All of The Kid can be found Here)
Characters/Pairings: Dean, Sam, John
Rating: PG
Genre: GEN (did you even know I could GEN?)
Word Count: 2355
Summary: Dean is 18, Sam is 14. John is 8. Christmas morning brings the Winchester boys a present they aren't expecting and with it a possiblity of finding the answers they need to understand who, exactly is hunting them.
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.
Pretty art provided byfallen_for_lost
Dean frowned as he made his way down the stairs to the sound of knocking on the front door. It was barely two in the morning. The Christmas tree lights made the living room seem festive despite the hour.
John was asleep on the couch, evidently sneaking downstairs after Dean and Sam had gone to bed for the night. Dean smiled and moved past him to the door before the knocking woke him up.
Dean rubbed at one eye as he opened the door far enough to see who was there. “Bobby?”
“Its damn cold out here.” Bobby said in way of greeting.
Dean pushed the door closed and slipped the chain off before pulling it open and stepping aside. “Quiet. John’s sleeping.” Dean pointed to the couch as Bobby stomped snow off his boots.
“Why’s he on the couch?” Bobby asked, his gruff voice just above a whisper.
“He’s eight and it’s Christmas.” He gestured toward the kitchen. “I can make coffee.”
“I’ll take whiskey, if you have it.” Bobby countered, leading the way.
“Sounds serious.”
“Isn’t it always?”
Dean had to give him that, moving to the cabinet where he hid the bottle of whiskey. He poured a little into two glasses, handing one off to Bobby. “I wasn’t expecting to see you for a while.”
Bobby shrugged and straddled a chair. “Jim called about the box.”
Dean’s heart thumped in his chest. Two weeks they’d had the box after finding it in his father’s storage unit. Even Pastor Jim hadn’t wanted to open it without understanding what it was. The fact that John Winchester had never spoken to anyone about it was concerning. The fact that even Jim and Missouri couldn’t make out what the symbols meant was even more concerning.
“And?”
Bobby tossed back the shot and set the glass down on the table before sweeping off his hat and scrubbing a hand through his thinning hair. “And…it’s bad news.”
Dean sighed. “I think we knew that Bobby.”
Bobby settled his hat back on his head. “No, this is bad like you ain’t ever seen. I’ve been digging into what your daddy was doing before…” He sighed and gestured toward the living room. “He was up into some crazy shit, and keeping it hidden pretty damn good. But I found this.”
He dug into a pocket in his coat, pulling out an envelope. Dean recognized the sloppy handwriting across the front of it. His name. Dean Winchester.
“Where?” Dean reached for the envelope slowly.
“In a book he borrowed from me. He returned it a week or so before this happened.”
Dean turned the envelope over. It was still sealed. “He knew something was going to happen to him.”
Bobby shrugged. “We all know something is going to happen to us Dean. It comes with the job.”
Dean shook his head. “No. He went out of his way to keep us out of things. I brushed it off, figured it was because school was starting. He kept telling me I had to look after Sam, like I haven’t been doing that my whole life. I should have seen that he was worried.”
“Well, whatever he was working, he hid it behind other jobs.” Bobby poured more whiskey and Dean turned the envelope over and over in his hands. “You gonna open it?”
Dean nodded slowly. He wasn’t convinced he wanted to know. He moved to the door of the kitchen, watching John sleep. Whatever his father had done, whatever had happened to him, Dean was nearly convinced that they were better off the way things were now. They were stronger, closer than they had ever been.
He slipped a finger under the flap of the envelope, opening it as carefully as he could. With his father, you never knew what might come out of an envelope. Inside was a single piece of paper. Dean pulled it out and unfolded it.
Dean lowered the page, his eyes skipping back to John on the couch.
“Well?” Bobby asked.
Dean sighed. “It’s him saying goodbye. Usual crap…look out for Sam, you know…”
“Nothing about the demon or what he was up to?”
“Not really.” Dean shook his head. Damn his father and his damn cryptic messages. Damn him for this. All of it. “He said something about an old junker at your place?”
Bobby nodded. “Yeah, he beat the hell out of it. Used it in the early days so he wouldn’t ding up that car of yours.”
Dean nodded again. “He left us something in it.”
“You boys are welcome any time, you know that.”
Dean yawned. “Give me a minute to take John back to his bed. You can have the couch. I’ll warn you though, he’s going to be up in about 2 hours and jumping off the walls.”
Not that Dean would be doing any sleeping himself. He needed to know what in the hell his father had meant, what he was protecting Sam from. He got John into his own bed without waking him, and tossed down a blanket for Bobby before he dug his father’s journal out of the closet and closed his bedroom door.
Nothing was ever easy with John Winchester.
Dean sat on the bed with the letter and the journal, digging through it until he found the page that he’d always just dismissed before as code words and passwords because it didn’t make any sense.
It only took him a minute to realize he was going to need a pencil and paper. He got up, padding down to Sam’s room. He let himself in, crossing to the desk and snagging a pencil and a notebook.
“Dean?”
“Go back to sleep Sam.” Dean whispered.
“What’s wrong?”
Dean turned to look at him. “Nothing. Bobby showed up. I needed some paper.” He held up the notebook.
Sam looked at the clock, then back at Dean. “It’s two-thirty.”
“I know. Can’t sleep.”
Sam was sitting up, pulling back the covers. “Bobby found something.”
Dean sighed. It wasn’t like he was going to keep it from Sam anyway. “A letter. From Dad.”
Sam swallowed and crossed his arms over his chest. “What did it say?”
“Not much. He was in trouble, Sam, and he knew it. He left us instructions. I need some time to figure them out though, okay?”
Sam nodded. “It’s about the demon, right?”
“Yeah, I think so. But look, he said not to tell anyone, even Bobby, okay? So…”
“Not a word.”
“Get some sleep. John’s going to be up and under the tree before you know it.”
Dean paused outside the door to John’s bedroom. In so many ways he wasn’t their father at all anymore. Dean didn’t even think of him that way much. He was John, and maybe Dean didn’t feel like the kid’s father…but he’d be hard pressed to say he didn’t love the boy like he was his son.
Dean rubbed at his aching head as he headed back to his bedroom. The whole mess made him hurt. Maybe nothing hurt more than the idea that Sam was the target…that somewhere out there was a demon gunning for his brother, and Dean was all that stood in his way.
He settled in with the notebook and journal and letter. Somewhere in here was an answer.
“Dad!” John’s little feet pounded up the stairs and down the hall just before he burst into the room. Dean managed to get his papers and books set aside before John was bouncing onto the bed. “It’s Christmas! Uncle Bobby is here! Come on Dad!”
Dean couldn’t help but smile at the kid. “Yeah, yeah, I’m coming. Is Sam up?”
“He’s waiting downstairs.”
Dean nodded, shoving his feet into his slippers before John grabbed his hand, pulling him into the hall. Sam was huddled up under a blanket on the couch. John had obviously already been under the tree, the presents sorted into piles.
Bobby came shuffling out of the kitchen, two coffee cups in hand. He was sleep rumpled, the ever present baseball hat sitting on the back of the couch instead of his head. He handed Dean a cup. “Breakfast is cooking.”
Dean smirked at Bobby’s expression. The man wasn’t accustomed to small kids and their exuberance. “Johnny, settle down.” Dean sat in the chair facing the tree. “You’re gonna wear yourself out before noon.”
He could feel Sam’s eyes. For the moment Dean ignored them. He wasn’t sure how to tell Sam what he’d found. It was a list of things Dean needed to do, places he had to go. It would start with that car at Bobby’s. The box had more than money in it. He sipped at the coffee and watched John hand out presents.
Bobby got up a few minutes later to check on breakfast while Dean was opening a present from John. It was a coffee mug with “#1 Dad” on it. Dean held it up for Sam to see, grinning at John. “Thanks, John.”
“Sam said it was dorky, but I got it anyway.” John declared, looking up from where he had nearly disappeared under the ripped off wrapping paper from his presents.
“I love it.”
He set the cup aside. He was going to have to get Sam to watch John for a couple of days. He had a few days off with the garage closed for Christmas, he could probably get out to Bobby’s and maybe back to the storage unit in Lazlo. There were a few things there he was going to need.
John was unusually quiet. Dean looked up to find him holding a picture frame in each hand. “Whatcha got?”
There were tears in John’s eyes as he held them up for Dean to see. In his right hand was a picture of John and his mother and in his left was a picture of John and Dean.
Dean looked at Sam. John dropped the pictures and launched himself at Sam, wrapping his arms around his neck and hugging him until Sam’s face was starting to turn red. “Thank you Sammy. Thank you.” John whispered fiercely.
“You’re welcome Johnny.” Sam responded softly, kissing his forehead. “I thought you might like to have them by your bed.”
“If you guys are done with presents, breakfast is ready.” Bobby said from behind them.
Dean herded a reluctant John into the kitchen, avoiding Sam’s look with a “Later.” He wasn’t sure what exactly he was hiding from Bobby, but if his father had reasons, Dean wasn’t going to question them.
Breakfast, showers and clothes followed, then Bobby was heading off to Jim’s and Dean felt like he could breathe again.
“So, are you going to tell me?” Sam asked as Dean washed the breakfast dishes.
He exhaled slowly. “Where’s John?”
“Playing with his toys.”
Sam was leaning against the table, his eyes dark and watching Dean as Dean turned to face him, drying his hands on a towel. “First, you need to promise me you won’t freak out.”
“Dean.” He looked pissed, but Dean held up one hand.
“Seriously Sam, I’m just barely holding on here. I need you to stay calm.”
“Fine. Tell me.”
Again, Dean exhaled slowly. “The letter was mostly him saying goodbye. He knew he was in trouble, and he knew something was going to happen. I don’t think he knew…I think he thought he was going to die.” Dean dropped the towel on the counter. “But, he told me I had to protect you.”
“Me?” Sam made a face. “He’s always said that.”
“This is different. He thinks the demon wants you, but I don’t know why. Not yet.”
“Yet.” Sam squinted at him. “What does that mean?”
“Dad left a series of instructions. I need you to stay here with John. I have to run up to Bobby’s. He left us something there. Hopefully there will be more information. He told me that we can’t tell anyone Sam. Not even Bobby.”
Sam’s eyes got big. “Why?”
Dean shook his head, moving to where he could watch John playing by the Christmas tree. “I don’t know. Something about us not being safe.”
Sam joined him in the door, watching John. He was quiet for a long minute. When he did speak, he didn’t look at Dean. “Because of me? I mean…that’s why he kept telling you to protect me, right?”
Dean crossed his arms and thought about how to answer it. He was just beginning to put together an idea of what his father knew. He wasn’t ready to tell his brother the truth. “I don’t know Sam.”
Title: The Kid Part 14 ( All of The Kid can be found Here)
Characters/Pairings: Dean, Sam, John
Rating: PG
Genre: GEN (did you even know I could GEN?)
Word Count: 2355
Summary: Dean is 18, Sam is 14. John is 8. Christmas morning brings the Winchester boys a present they aren't expecting and with it a possiblity of finding the answers they need to understand who, exactly is hunting them.
A/Ns & Warnings: Um. This is at least partially
varkelton's fault. De-aging fic. Pretty art provided by
fallen_for_lostDean frowned as he made his way down the stairs to the sound of knocking on the front door. It was barely two in the morning. The Christmas tree lights made the living room seem festive despite the hour.
John was asleep on the couch, evidently sneaking downstairs after Dean and Sam had gone to bed for the night. Dean smiled and moved past him to the door before the knocking woke him up.
Dean rubbed at one eye as he opened the door far enough to see who was there. “Bobby?”
“Its damn cold out here.” Bobby said in way of greeting.
Dean pushed the door closed and slipped the chain off before pulling it open and stepping aside. “Quiet. John’s sleeping.” Dean pointed to the couch as Bobby stomped snow off his boots.
“Why’s he on the couch?” Bobby asked, his gruff voice just above a whisper.
“He’s eight and it’s Christmas.” He gestured toward the kitchen. “I can make coffee.”
“I’ll take whiskey, if you have it.” Bobby countered, leading the way.
“Sounds serious.”
“Isn’t it always?”
Dean had to give him that, moving to the cabinet where he hid the bottle of whiskey. He poured a little into two glasses, handing one off to Bobby. “I wasn’t expecting to see you for a while.”
Bobby shrugged and straddled a chair. “Jim called about the box.”
Dean’s heart thumped in his chest. Two weeks they’d had the box after finding it in his father’s storage unit. Even Pastor Jim hadn’t wanted to open it without understanding what it was. The fact that John Winchester had never spoken to anyone about it was concerning. The fact that even Jim and Missouri couldn’t make out what the symbols meant was even more concerning.
“And?”
Bobby tossed back the shot and set the glass down on the table before sweeping off his hat and scrubbing a hand through his thinning hair. “And…it’s bad news.”
Dean sighed. “I think we knew that Bobby.”
Bobby settled his hat back on his head. “No, this is bad like you ain’t ever seen. I’ve been digging into what your daddy was doing before…” He sighed and gestured toward the living room. “He was up into some crazy shit, and keeping it hidden pretty damn good. But I found this.”
He dug into a pocket in his coat, pulling out an envelope. Dean recognized the sloppy handwriting across the front of it. His name. Dean Winchester.
“Where?” Dean reached for the envelope slowly.
“In a book he borrowed from me. He returned it a week or so before this happened.”
Dean turned the envelope over. It was still sealed. “He knew something was going to happen to him.”
Bobby shrugged. “We all know something is going to happen to us Dean. It comes with the job.”
Dean shook his head. “No. He went out of his way to keep us out of things. I brushed it off, figured it was because school was starting. He kept telling me I had to look after Sam, like I haven’t been doing that my whole life. I should have seen that he was worried.”
“Well, whatever he was working, he hid it behind other jobs.” Bobby poured more whiskey and Dean turned the envelope over and over in his hands. “You gonna open it?”
Dean nodded slowly. He wasn’t convinced he wanted to know. He moved to the door of the kitchen, watching John sleep. Whatever his father had done, whatever had happened to him, Dean was nearly convinced that they were better off the way things were now. They were stronger, closer than they had ever been.
He slipped a finger under the flap of the envelope, opening it as carefully as he could. With his father, you never knew what might come out of an envelope. Inside was a single piece of paper. Dean pulled it out and unfolded it.
If you are reading this, I’m probably gone. With any luck, I’ll have taken that yellow-eyed son of a bitch with me. If I haven’t it falls to you to protect Sam from him.
I’ve done everything I can to cover my tracks and hide what I’ve done. Not just from you, Dean, but from the demons, and from other hunters. If they knew what I’ve learned…if they put it all together, you and your brother wouldn’t be safe. Ever.
I know this is a lot to lay on you, Son, but I know you will understand the stakes. Tell no one the whole truth, not even Bobby or Jim. You may need their help for some of what you’ll need to do, but do not tell them everything.
In my journal there’s a page with instructions, written in code. The key to the code is on the back of this page. Follow the instructions. Keep your brother safe. If what I’ve learned is true, more than one demon will be looking for him as he grows up.
There’s a little bit of money put aside for you boys. Ask Bobby to show you the junker I had towed to his place. You’ll find a safe box under the driver’s side tire well.
I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you better, give you an easier life. I’m sorry I can’t be there to see the man you will become. I love you and your brother more than you can ever know.
Dean lowered the page, his eyes skipping back to John on the couch.
“Well?” Bobby asked.
Dean sighed. “It’s him saying goodbye. Usual crap…look out for Sam, you know…”
“Nothing about the demon or what he was up to?”
“Not really.” Dean shook his head. Damn his father and his damn cryptic messages. Damn him for this. All of it. “He said something about an old junker at your place?”
Bobby nodded. “Yeah, he beat the hell out of it. Used it in the early days so he wouldn’t ding up that car of yours.”
Dean nodded again. “He left us something in it.”
“You boys are welcome any time, you know that.”
Dean yawned. “Give me a minute to take John back to his bed. You can have the couch. I’ll warn you though, he’s going to be up in about 2 hours and jumping off the walls.”
Not that Dean would be doing any sleeping himself. He needed to know what in the hell his father had meant, what he was protecting Sam from. He got John into his own bed without waking him, and tossed down a blanket for Bobby before he dug his father’s journal out of the closet and closed his bedroom door.
Nothing was ever easy with John Winchester.
Dean sat on the bed with the letter and the journal, digging through it until he found the page that he’d always just dismissed before as code words and passwords because it didn’t make any sense.
It only took him a minute to realize he was going to need a pencil and paper. He got up, padding down to Sam’s room. He let himself in, crossing to the desk and snagging a pencil and a notebook.
“Dean?”
“Go back to sleep Sam.” Dean whispered.
“What’s wrong?”
Dean turned to look at him. “Nothing. Bobby showed up. I needed some paper.” He held up the notebook.
Sam looked at the clock, then back at Dean. “It’s two-thirty.”
“I know. Can’t sleep.”
Sam was sitting up, pulling back the covers. “Bobby found something.”
Dean sighed. It wasn’t like he was going to keep it from Sam anyway. “A letter. From Dad.”
Sam swallowed and crossed his arms over his chest. “What did it say?”
“Not much. He was in trouble, Sam, and he knew it. He left us instructions. I need some time to figure them out though, okay?”
Sam nodded. “It’s about the demon, right?”
“Yeah, I think so. But look, he said not to tell anyone, even Bobby, okay? So…”
“Not a word.”
“Get some sleep. John’s going to be up and under the tree before you know it.”
Dean paused outside the door to John’s bedroom. In so many ways he wasn’t their father at all anymore. Dean didn’t even think of him that way much. He was John, and maybe Dean didn’t feel like the kid’s father…but he’d be hard pressed to say he didn’t love the boy like he was his son.
Dean rubbed at his aching head as he headed back to his bedroom. The whole mess made him hurt. Maybe nothing hurt more than the idea that Sam was the target…that somewhere out there was a demon gunning for his brother, and Dean was all that stood in his way.
He settled in with the notebook and journal and letter. Somewhere in here was an answer.
“Dad!” John’s little feet pounded up the stairs and down the hall just before he burst into the room. Dean managed to get his papers and books set aside before John was bouncing onto the bed. “It’s Christmas! Uncle Bobby is here! Come on Dad!”
Dean couldn’t help but smile at the kid. “Yeah, yeah, I’m coming. Is Sam up?”
“He’s waiting downstairs.”
Dean nodded, shoving his feet into his slippers before John grabbed his hand, pulling him into the hall. Sam was huddled up under a blanket on the couch. John had obviously already been under the tree, the presents sorted into piles.
Bobby came shuffling out of the kitchen, two coffee cups in hand. He was sleep rumpled, the ever present baseball hat sitting on the back of the couch instead of his head. He handed Dean a cup. “Breakfast is cooking.”
Dean smirked at Bobby’s expression. The man wasn’t accustomed to small kids and their exuberance. “Johnny, settle down.” Dean sat in the chair facing the tree. “You’re gonna wear yourself out before noon.”
He could feel Sam’s eyes. For the moment Dean ignored them. He wasn’t sure how to tell Sam what he’d found. It was a list of things Dean needed to do, places he had to go. It would start with that car at Bobby’s. The box had more than money in it. He sipped at the coffee and watched John hand out presents.
Bobby got up a few minutes later to check on breakfast while Dean was opening a present from John. It was a coffee mug with “#1 Dad” on it. Dean held it up for Sam to see, grinning at John. “Thanks, John.”
“Sam said it was dorky, but I got it anyway.” John declared, looking up from where he had nearly disappeared under the ripped off wrapping paper from his presents.
“I love it.”
He set the cup aside. He was going to have to get Sam to watch John for a couple of days. He had a few days off with the garage closed for Christmas, he could probably get out to Bobby’s and maybe back to the storage unit in Lazlo. There were a few things there he was going to need.
John was unusually quiet. Dean looked up to find him holding a picture frame in each hand. “Whatcha got?”
There were tears in John’s eyes as he held them up for Dean to see. In his right hand was a picture of John and his mother and in his left was a picture of John and Dean.
Dean looked at Sam. John dropped the pictures and launched himself at Sam, wrapping his arms around his neck and hugging him until Sam’s face was starting to turn red. “Thank you Sammy. Thank you.” John whispered fiercely.
“You’re welcome Johnny.” Sam responded softly, kissing his forehead. “I thought you might like to have them by your bed.”
“If you guys are done with presents, breakfast is ready.” Bobby said from behind them.
Dean herded a reluctant John into the kitchen, avoiding Sam’s look with a “Later.” He wasn’t sure what exactly he was hiding from Bobby, but if his father had reasons, Dean wasn’t going to question them.
Breakfast, showers and clothes followed, then Bobby was heading off to Jim’s and Dean felt like he could breathe again.
“So, are you going to tell me?” Sam asked as Dean washed the breakfast dishes.
He exhaled slowly. “Where’s John?”
“Playing with his toys.”
Sam was leaning against the table, his eyes dark and watching Dean as Dean turned to face him, drying his hands on a towel. “First, you need to promise me you won’t freak out.”
“Dean.” He looked pissed, but Dean held up one hand.
“Seriously Sam, I’m just barely holding on here. I need you to stay calm.”
“Fine. Tell me.”
Again, Dean exhaled slowly. “The letter was mostly him saying goodbye. He knew he was in trouble, and he knew something was going to happen. I don’t think he knew…I think he thought he was going to die.” Dean dropped the towel on the counter. “But, he told me I had to protect you.”
“Me?” Sam made a face. “He’s always said that.”
“This is different. He thinks the demon wants you, but I don’t know why. Not yet.”
“Yet.” Sam squinted at him. “What does that mean?”
“Dad left a series of instructions. I need you to stay here with John. I have to run up to Bobby’s. He left us something there. Hopefully there will be more information. He told me that we can’t tell anyone Sam. Not even Bobby.”
Sam’s eyes got big. “Why?”
Dean shook his head, moving to where he could watch John playing by the Christmas tree. “I don’t know. Something about us not being safe.”
Sam joined him in the door, watching John. He was quiet for a long minute. When he did speak, he didn’t look at Dean. “Because of me? I mean…that’s why he kept telling you to protect me, right?”
Dean crossed his arms and thought about how to answer it. He was just beginning to put together an idea of what his father knew. He wasn’t ready to tell his brother the truth. “I don’t know Sam.”
