AN: So this is a plot bunny that wouldn't leave me alone, ever since Ben called Dean a few episodes ago. I also want to say I, in no way, condone under age sex. I just think that this is how Dean would approach the situation. I do not own Supernatural. Please review and tell me what you think. Thanks again to Bartlebead for the wonderful beta. Without further delay...
"I need you to talk to Ben."
Lisa's agitated voice came sharply over the line. Dean was only giving the conversation half his attention; he was driving, in the rain, with Sam slumbering next to him.
"Did you hear me, Dean? I need to you talk to Ben."
"About what, Lisa? Last time I swung by, he wasn't too interested in having a deep conversation."
Dean rubbed a tired hand over his eyes and blinked to bring the wavering road more into focus. Between the thick sheets of rain, his own overwhelming exhaustion, and the pounding headache he was currently nursing, he was having trouble following the conversation.
"He needs a man-to-man talk. He doesn't really respond to me if I try to talk to him. I'm just his mother, which apparently doesn't count for anything lately. He's at that age, you know, where girls are becoming more and more important."
"It's natural, Lisa. Let the poor kid be. He doesn't need you breathing down his neck."
"No, but I don't want to be an early grandma either. The other day I caught him, in the back of the library, with his hands down some girl's shirt." She waited a beat. "In public, Dean."
Dean suddenly found the conversation required more of his attention then he had been doling out. He shifted the phone to the other ear incase he really had misunderstood Lisa.
"Wait, wait, wait. You want me to give him the sex talk? Seriously?" Dean tried to keep the incredulity in his voice to a minimum.
"No, at least not really." Lisa sighed heavily over the phone. "I gave him the bare bones on that track several months ago, but I think he needs to hear it from a man. I embarrass him, and if he has questions… I just think he would appreciate someone other than his mother at this stage in his life and you're the closest thing he's got."
"Great," mumbled Dean. "Awkward duty by default."
"You know, never mind Dean. Forget I called." Lisa huffed in the phone, clearly ready to hang up.
"Stop, Lisa. I never said I wouldn't do it. You just caught me off guard, that's all." Dean glanced over at Sam, still sleeping. He was going to have some crick in his neck from leaning against the window like that. "We just finished a hunt not too far from you, I was gonna swing by anyway."
"Thank, Dean. I'll see you when you get here."
"Bye."
Jesus, thought Dean as he drove. Ben was 14 going on 15 now. A part of Dean was kind of proud, thought he owed the kid a congratulatory slap on the back for getting to second base, but he doubted that was the conversation Lisa had in mind. He wondered again how he'd managed to get drafted for this particular job. His own history and experiences were more extreme and definitely not stuff that would nurture appropriate social conduct.
John Winchester's sex talk included four things. Do not make me have to have any conversations with any upset girl's parents. Do not make me a grandfather. Be safe. And Dean's personal favorite: It's not a damn race, it's more a marathon. If you cross the finish line and your're the only one smiling, backup and start over. Which Dean always took to mean do it right or not at all. Of course John Winchester gave this entire conversation red-faced and with a tumbler of whiskey clutched in one hand and a box of condoms in the other. He also gave it a year too late but that was a personal detail Dean never clued his father in on.
When it came time for Sam to get the talk, Dean was the one to discuss it with him. Of course the brat had to approach it like a school report and Dean spent some rather boring and awkward time in the library helping Sam find trustworthy resources. Sam was 16, almost 17. Dean had been a precocious 14 year-old.
If things were different, Dean probably wouldn't have been as forward as he'd been. But he'd stopped being a kid at the age of four. By the time he was 14, he was already managing a household, raising Sam, helping his father, and had been on more hunts then he could keep track of. He figured that if he could shoot a weapon, maim or kill, live or die to protect humanity, then, damn it, he was old enough to love, too.
And boy, did he love. It was one of the few things, other than hunting, that he did exceptionally well.
All it took was one humid summer night in the back of Becky Ford's brother's pick-up truck and Dean had never looked back. Women were soft, pretty, they smelled nice, and the little breathy sounds they made when you touched them just right. Dean could carry that sound with him for days afterwards. In his line of work, he needed to take time to remember there was still good in the world.
But Ben wasn't a soldier in a never-ending war. He was a boy, a normal teenager on the cusp of manhood, and Dean figured that meant he would have to curtail his talk to function within normal social parameters. Apparently 14 was too young to get to second base. He smiled as he remembered the day he'd first met Ben at his birthday party, talking about chicks and the lure of the bounce house. He could see young Ben in his mind's eye. He remembered thinking… Look out ladies, here comes trouble.
Sam shifted in his seat, unconsciously flexing his beanpole legs in discomfort. Dean figured he'd wake him up and explain when they hit Indiana.
Sam chickened out, once he heard the reason for the visit. He claimed – the coward- that he needed to do some research for the next hunt. Yeah, right. Dean bought that for all of a second. Samantha just didn't want to endure the talk. Like Dean did? But, hey, Sam was right. This was Dean's relationship, not Sammy's.
Dean dropped Sam off at the local library and headed to Lisa's, after he stopped off at the drugstore and bought some condoms. Just to be safe.
Ben was sitting on the front steps when Dean pulled up. The kid's knees were folded, his chin on his hands. He looked utterly dejected. Dean walked over and sat next to him, the burgeoning twilight falling around them like a soft blanket. For a moment they sat companionably, listening to the sounds of the neighborhood settling down for the night.
Dean cleared his throat. "What'cha doing out here, Ben?"
"Mom's pretty mad at me. I'm grounded, which is pretty lame. I guess she called you?" Ben glanced at Dean, watching him from the corners of his eyes. It reminded him of a younger Sammy, who had been a master of the sideways emo glare.
"Yeah, she did. So getting caught by your mom… Pretty embarrassing huh?"
"Dude, you have no idea," Ben smiled ruefully. "Kelly won't even talk to me, the library took away my card, and Mom'shas grounded me for the rest of my natural existence. She took away my game system and my skateboard. I'm on kitchen duty for a month."
"Well Ben, the thing is… You gotta be responsible. That's really why your mom's so mad. She's worried that you get distracted with the feelings and the fun of it all, and by not being responsible, you or someone else could get hurt. Are you ready to be a father? Or get some god awful disease?"
"No," Ben said vehemently. "Who said anything about… you know. Sheesh! It was just a little making out, no big deal. I had it totally under control!"
"Uh huh," replied Dean. "Don't be in such a hurry to grow up, kiddo. Everything's new and exciting right now, but you're still so young. Someday, it's going to be all so right, it'll just click, and you'll find your own piece of Heaven. But until then don't rush to do something just to do it."
"How do you know when you're ready?" Ben risked another glance at Dean, before ducking his heated cheeks towards the ground again.
Dean grimaced inside. How was he supposed to know the answers to all these questions?
"It's a personal choice. No one can answer it for you. I can say that it's always better with someone you love, someone you respect. And I don't know if you can truly know how to love until you live a bit; till you know more than video games and skateboards."
Dean reached over and ruffled Ben's hair to take some of the sting out of his words. "But, dude, because I think it's always best to be prepared in any situation, I want to give you some condoms so you-and the girl-have protection."
Dean grabbed Ben's shoulder, bringing the boy's gaze to meet his own. "Just because you have 'em does not mean you are to rush out and use 'em, you understand?"
"Yes, sir," Ben replied, stuffing the box into his pocket.
"Now, before we go in and see your mother, Sam sent you some reading material." Dean handed over the extensive packet Sam had prepared on STDS and teen pregnancy. "I expect that to be read by morning. It's important information to have."
Ben's eyes widened. "Dude, you're giving me sex homework?"
"Consider it research; you never go into a hunt blind. You should know all the potential outcomes of a scenario. Well, chlamydia just happens to be one of the outcomes you need to consider."
Dean stood, drawing Ben up with him. Together they climbed the steps to the porch.
"I want you to know you can call me anytime with any questions you might have, okay, kiddo?"
Ben looked up at Dean and for a moment Dean saw the eight-year-old overlaid on top of the teenager.
"Yeah, Dean. I know."
Together they entered the house. Look Dad, Dean thought, I got through it without whiskey. Dean figured he'd save John Winchester's sage advice for a few years down the road. When Ben was old enough to hear it.
AN II: Thanks again for reading. Please review and help me to improve my writing.
