"Dad?" Dean scrunched his face in confusion when John made him stop in front of the Impala's hood.
"Just wait there a second." John motioned with a hand as he walked around the car to the trunk, popping it open and pulling out his tool kit before returning to the front of the car. Dean glanced back at the window of their motel room to check on Sam, who sat cross legged on a bed with lots of papers and books spread out around him. Ever the eternal geek.
"Dad, what are we doing?" Dean turned his attention back to his father.
"It's time for you to start learning more than the mere basics of how to fix a car, Dean." John informed him with a small smile, opening the hood and propping it open so the engine was on display for them.
"I've been watching and helping you fix the car since I was 13, Dad. I think I already know more than the basics."
"Then you'll be polishing off the last of the knowledge you'll need. Now, tell me where you'd begin to look to explain the rattling noise the car has been making lately?"
Dean sat on the front bumper of the Impala, wiping at his nose to stop an itch and inadvertently covering himself in a large smear of grease. He brought up the bottle of root beer that was cradled in his other hand and took a long swig. Behind him, John put away the last of the tools they had pulled out of the trunk in the past few hours as they tuned up the Impala and finally got rid of that rattling noise.
"What are your thoughts about it?" John asked randomly as he joined Dean on the bumper, holding a bottle of regular beer for himself.
"About what?" Dean turned his head to give his father a confused look. John snorted through a drink of his beer before tossing their last clean towel at Dean's face.
"Get that crap off your face." John chuckled. Still confused, Dean wiped all over his face and was surprised when the towel came back covered in grease. He gave the towel an incredulous look, tossing it on the small pile of dirty towels they had built before turning his attention back to his father.
"Now what was your question, Dad?" John let out a heavy sigh. His eyes were currently focused on watching Sam study on his bed in their motel room, but Dean could tell John's attention was on him.
"All this...traveling. Hunting. Researching things that any normal person would refuse to believe existed. What do you think about it?" John drew out. Dean remained silent for a few moments as he thought of the question. While the emotion behind the question wasn't anything new to Dean, his father asked him serious questions all the time, the question itself was out of the ordinary.
"It's...fine. It may be a bit thankless but it's still important. Someone has to do it." Dean started, a bit unsure of how he was going to finish it. "I... I understand that this isn't exactly the type of life anyone would enter willingly, but most people in important positions rarely planned it."
"That's not what I meant. I mean, what do you think about doing all of this? Would you walk away if you could?" It was Dean's turn to aim his visual attention at Sam, who looked like he was finished with his self-appointed homework and was looking at the tourist guides he snatched from the motel lobby. Probably thinking of ideas for Dean's birthday tomorrow. Dean didn't rush to answer as he stared at Sam because it was obvious John wasn't expecting an immediate answer.
Dean hadn't considered any other life than the one he was living. Sure, he knew that most almost-16-year-old boys were running around either with their girlfriends or chasing after single girls. After all, Dean had already had his fair share of one-night stands thanks to the constant changing of school districts. But his life had become normal while everyone else became the strange ones. The mere thought of staying in one place long enough to form actual relationships with people that weren't hunters or in the know...it was unsettling.
"I don't know." Dean finally admitted. "I don't have an issue with it, if that's what you're asking. It just...it needs to be done. Best be done by people like us, who can handle it, than someone who's going to get themselves killed."
"Right." John let out a wry smirk, nodding in acknowledgment of the point Dean made.
"Dad, why are you even asking me this? It's not like I have a choice about my life."
"You do, Dean." John immediately corrected him. "You do. I've been...considering the idea of letting you and Sam stay with Bobby Singer during the school year. You boys would certainly be safe there and Bobby knows how to get the hell outta Dodge if something were to happen."
"Sammy would love that." Dean pointed out, unable to say anything else over his shock.
"It's not a done-deal. I still haven't leveled the pros and cons about it, but one of the biggest things against it is that you're starting to get old enough to consider what you want to do. Two more short years and you're gonna be an adult, Dean. I really shouldn't be forcing you to do anything you don't wanna do anymore." John drained the last little bit of his beer, setting the empty bottle down on the pavement before turning to look at his oldest son. "What do you think about all that we're doing?"
Dean felt like he was put on the spot even though he knew there wasn't going to be a wrong answer here. The look in his dad's eyes said he'd love Dean no matter what was the next thing to come out of his mouth, and the sheer force of that emotion made Dean's stomach drop.
"I like it." Dean admitted quietly, knowing the consequences of what he just said. There was no way in Hell that Sam would be allowed to go off to Bobby's by himself. Either he was going with Dean or not at all, and Dean just essentially said that he didn't want to go. "I actually like it. It's...it's somewhat surreal to know that all of these things are real. And in knowing that taking them down is making a difference in people's lives."
"Ok." John nodded again. He took his next turn in staring at the youngest Winchester through their room window as a silence fell over the front of the Impala, neither one of them quite so willing to break it right away.
"Dad?" Dean asked tentatively after a few more moments.
"If this is what you want, then I'll start bringing you along on some of the more dangerous hunts." John began. "There's only so much training I can give you until you need some experience to back it up. It'll only be occasionally for now, since Sam is still going to need you sometimes, but I promise that you'll start working on bigger things."
"Alright." Dean nodded like John had a few minutes previous, a tad unsure of where this conversation was going to end.
"Speaking of..." John interrupted Dean's wondering to pull out the keys to the Impala, holding them up to Dean. "I'm sure Sam's going to want to get a few things for you two tomorrow. You should take him today, while it's still light out."
"No problem." Dean took the opportunity to end the discussion and grabbed at the keys, jumping when John's other hand suddenly appeared and trapped his hand in between both of John's.
"Happy early birthday, Dean." John declared in a significant tone. It took Dean a few moments to realize what he meant by it.
"Wait. You mean..." Dean's eyes glanced over his shoulder at the Impala.
"Yes." A small smile began to grow on John's face at Dean's shocked expression, John dropping his hands while leaving the keys in Dean's. "You certainly love this car more than I do. It's only reasonable that you get to be the one to take care of her. And I already have a truck that's being modified to have a weapon's rack in the back, so don't feel like you getting the Impala leaves me vehicle-less."
"I...I...I..." Dean stuttered. He would never had dreamed of getting the Impala. Had he not just had a conversation more awkward than even the 'Birds and the Bees' talk John gave him when he was 14, Dean wouldn't be believing it.
"Slow down, Dean. You're talking too much. I can't understand you." John cracked, letting out a laugh when he realized that Dean's expression wasn't going to change any time soon. Shaking his head in amusement, John slid closer to Dean and hugged him tightly. It went against the 'No Chick-flick Moments' rule that Dean developed in the past couple years, but John figured he could get away with it considering how shocked Dean still was. "I mean it, Dean. Happy birthday."
"Thanks, Dad." Dean finally managed to get out, returning the hug with a vice-like grip. Something told John that the Impala was going to be far better in Dean's hands from now on.