John bit his lip nervously as he drives to Dean's house.
He was going to meet his grandson for the first time.
It has been six months since Castiel died and deep down, he thought Dean has forgotten about him. He wouldn't have blamed him. He should be grateful that Dean would even humor him. Sam didn't want him near his twin girls.
He shouldn't be surprised, he been a fuck-up as a father.
When Mary died, a part of John died with her. He couldn't raise his children, wouldn't even try. He just shoved all that responsibility on Dean, which wasn't fair for his son. Dean took care of Sam and his own sorry ass and he was never grateful for it. Hell, his son came out to him and he punched him on the face and threw him out, missing so much of his life and Sam's.
It has taken 15 years to get to where he is now, 15 years of bottles, sobriety, AA meeting and self-flagitious to get here.
He gulped nervously as he stopped the car in front of the house and walked to the door. He pushed the doorbell and waited as he tapped his foot nervously. The door opened and he blinked.
"Sam?"
His youngest son glared at him, his 6'4 frame making him look frightening.
"Why are you here?"
"D-Dean invited me." John said, making Sam glare at him in suspicion, but he sighed.
"Follow me." Sam said, taking note of the home. It was nice and he saw a lot of photos on the wall, seeing baby pictures, family photos and wedding photos.
"Where's Dean?"
"In the bedroom." Sam said, "It's…a bad day."
John nodded, knowing what he means. Those days that the grief is too strong, that you wonder why you even bother to get up in the morning. He goes to the living room and sees a 6 year old boy with a sock of black hair drawing in a coloring book. He looks up at John for a second, scrutinizing him. John felt a lump in his throat.
He has green eyes.
Dean's eyes.
Mary's eyes.
John smiled and knelt down to the child's height. The child stopped looking at him and went back to coloring.
"Hi there, buddy."
The little boy looked up at him and gave a small smile.
"Hi."
"What's your name?"
"Robbie, I named after my grandpa."
John stiffened as a ball of anger and resentment formed in his chest.
He was the boys grandfather, he was! Not Bobby! What the fuck it means by Bobby being the grandfather?!
But as quickly as it came, the feeling quickly left. Bobby took care of the boys when he didn't. He always welcomed them with open arms.
"How are you doing, Robbie?"
"I'm sad because Daddy is sad. I don't like it when Daddy is sad."
"He's hurt kiddo. He misses your poppa."
"But Poppa is an angel. Daddy's said grandma use to say angels watched over him and since papa is an angel, he's watching over us."
John blinked at Robbie's logic and smiled warmly. Dean and Castiel raised a good, smart kid.
"What else does your daddy do?"
"He sings Hey Jude to me. He said Nana used to sing it to me. He plays baseball with him and builds stuff. He also likes to give hugs."
Robbie then frowned.
"I miss papa, though."
John smiled sadly, smiling at the adoration in Robbie's voice and the wistful voice when he mentioned Castiel. Robbie then looked up and grins.
"Daddy!"
John looked up and saw a very tired looking Dean enter the room. Robbie got up and hugged Dean's leg. Dean smiled and picked up Robbie in his arms.
"Are you better, Daddy?"
"I am now."
Robbie smiled as he rested his head on Dean's shoulder. John stood up and smiled as Dean started to rock his son in his arms.
"You both raised a good kid."
"Yeah. I know." Dean whispered, "I know."
AN: Here is a timestamp for my story "And So it Goes", its been six months since Cas died.
I have to thank AngelOfTheMoor for this; she gave me the idea for John to meet Robbie. Thanks hun.
So Dean is still grieving and has bad days. Sam and his family are there for there. John is trying to be better; Sam is still antsy around him.
There will be more timestamps here.
Anyway, comments are loved! I don't own SPN, just Robbie!