Hi guys! This is my first Supernatural fanfiction. I hope you like it. For those following my Les Miserables stories, I am still working on them. Dean is 21 years old in this, Sammy is 16. Please let me know what you think. It's short, but I might expand it if you like it.)
For the first time in a long time, John would be spending the night alone with his youngest son. They had just finished a hunt and John decided to stay put at least for the rest of the weekend so that they could all get some much needed rest.
Or at least, that was what he had hoped his sons would do. Instead, Dean announced that, since he had the weekend off, he would be spending the evening with his temporary girlfriend. John couldn't really blame him. His boy was growing up and it was only normal for a kid his age to go out and have some fun. Sam hadn't been that lucky in his new school. He was a shy kid and making friends wasn't something that came easily to him. Sam needed more time for things like that and the two weeks they had been here, didn't suffice.
John hadn't missed the disappointed look in Sam's eyes when his youngest realized he would be alone with his father that evening. The two of them had been fighting more and more lately and John knew that he wasn't the highest person on his son's list to hang out with. Not anymore. And even though John was convinced that he was doing the right thing by taking his boys on hunts and saving people instead of attending a soccer match, it didn't mean that he enjoyed that sad look in his son's eyes every time they moved away to another city.
John loved his boys. He loved both of them, equally. He just didn't fight as much with Dean as he did with Sammy, because while his oldest was just like him and thought hunting mattered, Sammy was completely different. His youngest never liked the hunt. He hated it. He much rather studied or played soccer or went to school and had things been different, John would give the world to let Sam have it. But what Sam didn't understand - and what was hard to understand or explain in any case - once you knew what was out there; once you had the power and knowledge to fight the evil things out there, you had a responsibility. Because how could you close your eyes and pretend nothing was wrong when people were dying and you knew how to save them? And of course, John could never rest until he found Mary's killer. That was his number one battle. But over the years, the fight had grown and it was so much bigger now. John could no longer turn away. Not even to give his son his much longed for normal life. And if that meant that he and Sam fought more than not, then so be it. If that meant that Sam was disappointed to spend the night with only his father, then so be it.
"I'm off!" Dean yelled from the living room of their small rented apartment, bringing John out of his thoughts. He stood from the kitchen table and walked into the next room where Sam was slouched on the couch and Dean was fixing his hair in the mirror.
"You'll be back at 1 AM at the latest, Dean," John stated sternly, " I don't want any lame excuses or whatever. 1 AM or else you won't be taking the Impala anywhere for the next six months. Do I make myself clear?"
Dean grinned and walked over towards the couch, ruffling his little brother's hair. "Crystal, Dad, I won't disappoint you. We'll just have some pizza or something and then go over to her place to hang out. Her parents aren't home, so..." He didn't finish his sentence, but his grin only grew when he saw his father's scowl. "You two have fun together, God knows it's been ages since you hung out. Finally got Dad all to yourself, huh Sammy? Isn't that nice?"
"Yeah, awesome," Sam muttered sulkily from the couch, not once looking up from the book he was currently engrossed in.
John ignored him, even though it did hurt a little and turned his attention back to Dean. "You'll be careful and you don't forget our rules." It was spoken like a question, but both Dean and John knew it was actually more like an order.
"Yes, Dad," Dean said as he let out an exasperated sigh, "It's just a date with a girl. It's not like I'm about to hunt a Wendigo by myself..."
"Well, sometimes it's hard to tell the difference," John said with a smile and Dean laughed.
"Whatever Dad, I think I'll be fine. Have fun Sammy, see ya tomorrow!" And he was off, letting the door fall closed behind him with a dull thumb.
Silence followed as soon as Dean left the apartment and John suddenly found himself at a loss for words. It used to be so easy for him to talk to his youngest son, but nowadays it felt like they weren't connected anymore. He had no idea what to say to Sam apart from the usual common questions or orders. He watched how his youngest sank further into the cushions of the couch, as if he tried to disappear from sight. John sighed and walked back into the kitchen to prepare dinner. He almost never cooked; they mostly ordered take-out, but John knew Sam loved to eat something fresh and healthy and because the two of them would be spending the evening together, he had decided to do something special and prepare a home-cooked spaghetti with zucchini and spinach. It used to be Mary's favorite meal and John was certain that Sam would love it too.
He was just in the middle of frying the zucchini and the spinach when Sam entered the kitchen with his eyebrows raised and a curious expression on his face.
"Are you cooking?" the lanky teenager asked surprised, trying to keep his face in check but unable to keep the corners of his mouth from turning upwards.
John smiled a bit and nodded. "You sound surprised, I've cooked before."
Sam dropped his book on the kitchen table and stood next to his father, watching how he threw in some salt and red pepper with the frying vegetables. "Well, yeah, but it's not all that common. We almost never eat a home-cooked meal together. You think it's a waste of precious time. Time better spend researching or whatever."
John winced inwardly and swallowed. It was true. Not too long ago he had spoken those exact words when Sam had asked him if they could cook something normal for once instead of the usual pizza's or burgers. "I'm cooking now, aren't I, Sammy?" he said quietly with a slight tremor to his voice. He didn't know why but somehow Sam always managed to make him feel like a complete failure of a father. "If you want, you can set the table. There's lemonade in the fridge and could you pour me a glass of red wine?"
Sam's eyebrows went so far upwards that they almost disappeared behind the bangs that fell in front of his forehead. Was his father serious? Were they about to eat at a table instead of on the couch in front of the television? He couldn't say it wasn't a most welcome surprise, but Sam was shocked. This was nothing like his father. He briefly wondered if it was a special day that he forgot, but they only reason he could think of for his father to act this way was on his birthday. And that wasn't for another three months.
As a joke, but also a little bit as a reassurance he muttered "Christo" which caused John to let out a bark of laughter.
"I'm not possessed Sammy," he chuckled as he turned towards his youngest son, "I just figured, since it's the two of us this evening to have some quality time. It's been forever since you and I hung out without getting into a fight… and I miss that. I miss you. I love you kiddo…" His expression turned somewhat sad and he watched how his son averted his eyes and ducked his head, but John's heart lifted when Sam looked up again with a large grin spreading across his face. That was all he really wanted. For Sam to smile at him again.
Without another word but with a sudden warm feeling in his heart, Sam walked towards the kitchen cabinet and started to set the table. Maybe it wasn't such a bad thing that Dean went off to do something for himself. Maybe it wasn't that bad to stay home with his father. Maybe, just maybe, they could use this time to get to know each other again. Sam loved his father, there was never any doubt in that. And even though he felt like burdening the man more often than not, for the first time in a very long time he felt loved by him and he knew this evening was going to be something he could look back on with happiness.
They needed this. Both of them.
The End