Understanding

Tag to Bad Boys

It had been his own stupid mistake. Gambling away the money Dad had left him in a poker game. Of course, he should have realized what he was doing, giving away John's hard earned money that he had left Dean for the sole purpose of looking after he and Sammy.

Well, mostly Sam.

Dean couldn't remember the last time his own father had shown legit concern for him. It had been bottled up, stored away for those rare moments when he would occasionally give him a pat on the back, or a half smile.

He left the emotional support to friends like Bobby and Jim Murphy.

And that was where he was headed.

Once the ass of a police officer had him under control, cuffed in front, after he had sustained a nasty bruiser curtesy of Dean's precise right hook, he began looking for places to put him.

County jail was out.

Juvenile hall was fifty miles East.

On a call to the old man himself, John made it clear that Dean could "rot in jail" if he had actually done what the officer was saying he did.

To a boys home he went.

Where all the delinquents went. Not someone like him, not someone who made a stupid mistake and was now paying for it.

What about Sammy?

What would happen to him?

Was he safe?

Was he even alive still?

What if some demon had broken into the backwoods motel room they had been staying at, and taken him?

Those thoughts plagued Dean for hours on end as he paced the barn room he had been allotted, along with several other boys of his age group.

"Dean," Sonny said, coming into the barn. "Someone's here for you."

"My Dad?"

Couldn't be. He had made it pretty clear he wanted nothing to do with him, and he knew how long his father could hold a grudge, better than anyone.

"A friend."

Intrigued, he followed Sonny out of the main barn where all the other boys slept, and to the main house.

"I assume you know Jim Murphy?"

"Yes."

He had been his father's friend for as long as he could remember, and seeing him there, in the stuffy living room, waiting for him, was the last thing he expected.

Minnesota, where he lived, was hours in the other direction. He had really driven all that way to retrieve him? Or to let him know what a monumental mistake he had made?

"Hi, Dean."

Instead of the shame and disappointment he expected to see out of the older man's face, all he saw was genuine concern and understanding.

"Hi."

"Are you ready to go?"

"Yeah, but what about-"

"I spoke with your father, and everything has been taken care of. You'll stay with me until he cools his head a little bit."

"Okay, thank you."

It would certainly be preferable than spending however long in that dusty old barn.

After thanking Sonny for what he had done to help him, Dean gratefully climbed into the front seat of Jim's beaten up car.

"Thanks again."

"Of course. Now, your father didn't really tell me what happened, but I assume it had to be pretty big."

Dean nodded. "I was stupid. I gambled away all the money Dad left for Sam and I. Is Sam okay?"

"He is. Your father has taken him to Bobby's."

"Okay, good."

Relaxing against the back of the soft seat, he closed his eyes as he rubbed his sore wrists. The earlier battle with the werewolf was beginning to wear on his nerves, especially after the cuffs had been put on over them.

"What happened to your wrists?"

"Werewolf hunt gone wrong."

"Your father took you on a hunt like that?"

"Yeah, so?"

"Just an observation."

It was no secret that Jim didn't approve of the way John had raised his boys. Moving from place to place at the drop of a hat, always training them to be warriors instead of encouraging their innocence and childhood.

"The cop deserved it."

Jim looked at him sideways as he drove. "Deserved what?"

"Me clocking him."

"Dean-"

"I know I shouldn't have, but he was really asking for it. I'm sorry."

"It's okay. I'm not mad, we all make mistakes in our youth, and it's just that you've never gotten the chance to do that before."

"It's like a rite of passage," Dean said with a laugh.

"Almost, yes."