There were still a lot of things that Sam and Dean still didn't know about their father. Like the little fact that he used to pray. First, it was only about honoring the memory of Mary. "They are watching us over us," she used to say. He felt closer to her that way. But the habit caught on. John was never the kind of guy who prayed before meals. But he did pray on occasion, to whichever higher force was up there to look out for his boys.
"I still can't belive it." Dean said. The boy really had an expressive face, and right now there were thousands of emotions passing over it.
"Me neither. But I'm here, in the flesh," he said with warmth in his gruff voice.
Dean just stared at him for a moment, seizing him up. He couldn't blame the boy. He had been gone for years. And now he was back and couldn't even give an explanation. It was easier to believe that he was just another fucker messing with them, than deal with with all the emotions. He couldn't really believe it yet himself. So many years have passed... Dean looked so much older now.
"Yeah well, no point standing around on the porch." John said.
"Yeah, yeah... come in." Dean went down to the little hidden door. He turned back to his dad with a grin as he put his hand on the handle. "You're not gonna believe this. We have a batcave!"
John shrugged and motioned to Dean to open up already.
"What's this?" he asked gruffly as he set his first foot into the library. His eyes were immediately travelling around, checking the place for signs of protection or threats.
"It's the layer of a secret group called men of letters. Pretty awesome huh? They're all dead, so now we get to hang out here."
"How did you find it?" John asked.
Dean opened his mouth with a grin to boast of their story, but he stopped short and just said "I'll tell you later, okay?"
John just nodded and trotted after Dean. "Where's Sam?" he asked. "You said he'd be here."
"Yeah, he's probably just taking a beauty sleep. Sam? SAM! Look what the cat dragged in!"
Out of one of the hallways came Sam, rubbing his sleepy eyes. He looked like he had fallen asleep on a pile of books again and his floppy hair was hanging in weird angled over his eyes.
"What's up Dean?" he murmured. Suddenly, he stopped dead in his tracks as his eyes registered who was with Dean. His hands went up to swipe the hair out of his face to see properly.
"Dean... is that really...?"
"Yeah Sammy. I checked."
"But how? And why?"
"I don't know, boy." John said and moved forward, opening his arms for a hug. Sam practically flew into his arms and hugged him for dear life.
"Oh man, I thought I'd never see you again!" Sam said with a shaky voice. Tears started to stream from his eyes, and Dean's eyes also got a little wet (again) from witnessing the reunion.
John clapped twice on Sam's shoulders as they broke apart again. "You're still as tall as I remember you to be." John said as affectionate as was possible with his gruff voice. Then he turned to Dean again.
"Is there any place in this bunker I can sleep? I'm beat."
"Yeah, sure. Plenty." Dean replied. "Come on."
John followed Dean down the hall and was put into one of the many spare bedrooms they had. Dean came back shortly after.
"So... what do you think?" Sam asked almost immediately. "How... can he be here? After all these years? I mean, we've seen him gone to heaven."
"Actually, we haven't." Dean replied. "We've seen him get outta hell, but I've got no idea where he went. Remember Ash said he couldn't find him up there?"
"Yeah. So you think he just stayed... as a ghost... and found a means to come back?"
"Maybe? I dunno, Sam. I've got Jack Squat. But fact is, he's back. And if whatever brought him back is a bad mofo, we deal with it."
"Yeah." Sam said thoughtfully. "Yeah. We'll have to deal with it. And him."
Dean fixed him with a look, but didn't protest.
When John got up, neither of the boys were awake yet. That wasn't to surprising, considering he'd always been an early riser. But what surprised him was the other person he caught sitting in the kitchen with coffee in one hand and a newspaper in the other. He hadn't expected to find any other people with his boys.
John strode in with a hand on his gun and stopped right in front of the guy.
"Who are you?" he demanded gruffly.
A blue pair of eyes lifted reluctantly from the newspaper up to meet Johns eyes.
"Castiel," he said with a voice that was probably even deeper and scruffier than Johns own voice, before returning his attention to the newspaper.
"That doesn't answer my question." John pressed.
Castiel took a sip from his coffee, gaze still fixed on the paper as he said: "There's no need to shoot me. I'm a friend of your sons."
"I don't know you, so I don't trust you." John replied. "You a hunter?"
Castiel looked up as if he had to ponder the question.
"Yes... I am now, I think."
"You think?" John repeated skeptically. He sat down right across from Cas and laid the gun on the table in front of him. "How do you know my boys?"
Castiel finally leaned forward and fixed his eyes on him, and he did so with a stare that would make a lesser man bulge. "I'm the one who gripped Dean tight and raised him from Predition."
John laid a finger on the trigger of his gun.
"You don't wanna mess with me, Castiel" he said deeply.
"I see you guys are hitting it off pretty good." Dean announced cheerfully as he strode in. "Wow. I don't wanna get caught on your battlefield."
"Hello, Dean." Castiel said, still not breaking eye contact with John.
Dean went over to the coffee pot and poured himself some. "Cas, I'm telling you dude, you need to learn how to blink. I'm serious."
That was enough to shift Cas' attention to Dean. "I do blink," he said, and blinked for emphasis.
"Dean, who is this guy?" John asked.
"He's a friend, dad. Please ease off of him."
"Can we trust him?" John continued to ask, still scrutinizing Cas.
Dean thought for a moment before answering. Yeah, they've had their shakedowns lately... but when push came to shove? Besides, he really didn't want to see Cas on his dad's bad side. That would be plain dumb.
"He's saved my life more often than I can count, and Sammy's too. So I'd say that's a yes."
"But he's not a hunter." John prodded.
"Yeah well, maybe not exactly. He's a geek. Knows all kinds of stuff. Really, he's worse than Sammy. But a real badass geek, with ninja speed and his own blade," Dean explained, getting more and more affectionate as he moved on through the speech.
Cas took out his angel blade and looked at it mourningly.
"Can I see it?" John asked and stretched his hand out toward it.
"No." Castiel replied. "I don't know you, I don't trust you."
Dean held his breath, because his dad didn't take shit like that from nobody. Cas and John were locked in another staredown. "Fair enough." John said. And everything in those two words rang loud and clear that this wasn't the end of it. Cas returned to his newspaper, John stood up and inspected the kitchen, and everything fell into awkward silence.
"Why would a cat hate Mondays?" Cas asked after a while.
"It's just a friggin' comic, Cas." Dean snapped, angry because Cas gave away just how different he was with such a stupid line. John fixed him with a look, before looking up to Dean with one of those meaningful glances. We gotta talk, boy.
John went out of the kitchen with Dean tailing after him. It was weird how old instinct kicked back in and he automatically understood the silent commands of his dad. They went a couple of rooms further for good measure.
"What's up with him? And don't even try to tell me there's nothing." John demanded.
"Well... That with Cas and me, that's kinda a long story." Dean replied evasively.
"Is he human?" John asked.
"Yeah, sure. He's human." Dean replied.
"What else, then?"
Dean chuckled humorlessly. "You're not gonna believe this..."
"Dean."
Dean flinched, but just a little. He wasn't sure if his dad had caught it. Probably had.
"Well... he wasn't always human."
"I'm waiting."
"He's a fallen Angel, dad. He's one of the good guys, I swear."
Dean glanced up to see the reaction of his dad's face. John's face was cold as stone.
"I guess Mary was right then. There are angels watching over us." he joked humorlessly.
"Not exactly. They're dicks. Well, all except Cas."
"Okay then." John said. "I'm going to trust you on this. But you better not be wrong."
Dean sighed as if a heavy weight was lifted from his shoulders.
"But you know, son - if he makes one wrong move, he's meat." John said as he walked back.
A/N
Thanks for reading. I don't know yet if I'm going to continue this. I think the premise of how Dean and Sam would deal with their dad after all this years is really interesting, but I'm feeling uncomfortable writing John. For some reason, I keep hearing Bobby. So review if you like it and tell me what you think! It might just be motivating enough to continue writing.
