Disclaimer: I own nothing recognizable in the following story. But I may lay claim to anything not recognizable and Jesse.
Author's note: Thanks to lynxlan for the beta. Day 3 will be up tomorrow.
Trust and Faith
by infinite shadow
Day 2 December 6
Dean was washing and handing soapy dishes to Sammy to dry. They were just about done cleaning up from lunch when a large man in a leather jacket, dark sunglasses, biker boots and torn jeans opened the kitchen door and strode into the room.
"Hey you kids seen a preacher man around here?" he asked gruffly.
Dean shoved his little brother behind him.
"Daddy!" Sammy bellowed.
The man took a step forward and Dean picked up a large dirty kitchen knife off the counter. He held it out in front of him pointing it directly at the intruder.
"Get back," Dean yelled.
Angel came running into the room barking. The little dog stopped in front of the boys baring her teeth and growling fiercely.
"What's all the noise in here?" John demanded as he stormed into the kitchen and took in the scene around him sighing as he saw the reason behind the commotion. "Jesse you always did know how to make an appearance. Dean put down that knife before you cut yourself. Sammy come here."
"You know him Dad?" Dean asked. One hand held the knife in front of him while the other held Sammy behind him.
"Of course he knows me," the man said taking a step closer.
"Hey!" Dean said holding the knife up slightly higher and stepping back effectively pinning Sammy between him and the wall. He let go of his little brother and moved into a full defensive stance.
"I wouldn't test him if I were you Jesse. He's got one hell of an aim and I can't do the job with just my son," John said dryly.
Jesse hesitated as he saw the protective look in the older boy's eyes turn feral. But instead of stopping he strode right up in front of the kid ignoring the dog who was nipping around his feet.
"Name's Jesse," he said putting a hand out in greeting. "Who are you runt? And who's the little guy behind you?"
Sammy whimpered quietly in fear and grabbed onto his brother's shirt. Dean tightened his hold on the knife.
"It's all right Dean. Put down the knife," John said as he leaned up against the kitchen counter. "Jesse step back before my son cuts your hand."
After a moment the older hunter realized that neither Jesse or his son would stand down. When he saw his oldest boy tense slightly as if getting ready to lunge John moved over to his son and deftly removed the knife from his hand. He moved around his son, put the knife into the sink and turned back to his boy.
"Jesse this is my son Dean. Let me give you a word of advice old friend. Never corner him especially when Sammy's around and when he has access to a weapon or you may lose whatever you stick out at him," John said as placed a calming hand on his son's shoulder then turned to his boy. "Dean this is Jesse the man we will be hunting with."
John squeezed Dean's shoulder hoping to get him to relax a little and let Sammy out from behind him.
Dean looked back and forth between the two men.
"Ah Jesse there you are. I was wondering when you were going to make it. Angel heel," Jim commanded and the dog fell silent by his side. "You've met the youngest Winchesters I take it?"
"Not yet Father. Still waiting on the runt here to shake my hand," Jesse said.
"I'm not a runt," Dean growled not liking this man one bit.
John sighed and Jesse laughed deep and loud.
"I like him John. Kid's got more spunk than you do," he said. "And you're little Sammy. Come on out little man. I'm not going to hurt you."
Sammy buried his face in brother's shirt and held on for dear life.
"Come now Jesse. Take off the dark glasses and jacket. You look like some biker dude and not the librarian I know you are," Jim said.
Jesse straightened up with a sigh. "You know how to take all my fun away, don't you preacher man."
"Just one of my many talents," Jim quipped.
"He's a librarian?" Dean said incredulously as he finally looked away from Jesse and up to his Dad.
"Yup. Still thinks he's a bad ass though," John said winking at his son.
"Language," Jim admonished.
Dean snickered and looked at Pastor Jim. "You trust him?" He asked.
"With my life," Jim said seriously.
Dean looked up at his father who nodded in agreement. It was enough for Dean. If they trusted him, then bad assed librarian or not, he was safe for Sammy to be around.
"C'mon Sammy it's all right," he said softly pulling his younger brother out from behind him.
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Dean glanced out the window as movement caught his eye. Sammy was still out there throwing snowballs for the little dog to chase. Somehow the kid and the dog would be happy doing that for hours. Confident that the mitts were still on his hands he turned his attention back to the task at hand and looked at the print outs, maps and hand written notes spread out all over Pastor Jim's dining room table. The men were still arguing like they had over the last hour.
"No John. It's not that difficult. Look we drive to this location here in my truck," Jesse said as he pointed to a spot on the map. "We walk in several miles and camp overnight just inside the tree line. Then we start the hike up the mountain, take out the beast and head home. Piece of cake. No need to take the runt with us."
Dean glared at the reed like librarian across the table from him. He'd already seen five weaknesses the man had which meant he knew five ways to take the man down without breaking a sweat. A hand on his shoulder made him take a deep breath to calm himself. Pastor Jim could always read how he was feeling. It was ok. He could wait to take the man down. All he needed was a second alone with the man and he'd never call him a runt again.
"First of all no job is a piece of cake," John said stiffly. "What about the climb? Where is your intel on the beast? I did not see any mountain gear or camping gear in that truck of yours. And my son is not a runt."
Jesse laughed. "Well you could at least try to get some meat and muscle on his frame John. Damn don't you feed your kids? And I'll have you know that there is a two man tent, sleeping bags, Colman stove, thermal blankets, climbing gear and a satellite phone in that truck. You just need to know where to look."
John sighed and ran a hand over his face. He didn't like it. Not one bit. Dean was too young and he had never faced an actual supernatural enemy before. He hadn't taught him survival methods in the icy wilderness before. There was too many ways this could turn bad or deadly.
"Look I know this job isn't an easy one and not one that your son should be starting out with. But thanks to our little meeting in the kitchen earlier, it looks like the runt can handle himself," Jesse said then sighed. "Look the job shouldn't take all that long. Maybe while we're out there we can throw in some winter survival training."
John nodded. He'd have to teach that to Dean sooner or later anyway. It didn't mean he had to like it.
"But know this kid," Jesse said his conversational tone turned tough and he glared down at the nine year old. "No one is going to hold your hand out there. You need to be able to hold your own. If something happens to me and your father you will be on your own. If we get hurt we'll be counting on you to get us back. Hunting's not easy, nothing is a cake walk and it sure as hell is going to get messy out there. Now I'll bet your daddy here hasn't told you anything about hunting."
"Jesse," Jim said trying to cut off the man's tirade as he felt Dean bristle under the man's scrutiny.
"Hunting is not for the weak or timid. You will see things out there that you haven't imagined in your worst nightmare. You are part of a team. If you don't do your job odds are we will all die," Jesse said.
"That's enough!" John barked at him. "You don't know my son. You have no idea what he's capable of. You will show him the same respect that you show me."
"No I won't!" Jesse snapped and glared at John. "You've earned my trust and respect. Your son will have to earn it just like you did."
Dean angrily looked back and forth between the two men. You could have cut the tension in the room with a knife it was so thick.
"I can hold my own," Dean said icily.
"Good. You're going to have to runt," Jesse said softly and left the room.
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"All Right Sammy. Into bed," Dean said as he pulled back the covers.
Sammy stood there and looked at his big brother. "Daddy said you were going to be gone for eight days."
Dean sat down on the bed. "Yeah. So?"
Sammy looked at him as he shifted his weight from foot to foot slightly. "Eight whole days."
Dean suddenly realized that his smart little brother was still too young to really understand how short a time it was. It would seem like a life time to him. The nine year old looked around the room and smiled as he spotted the perfect way to explain.
"Come over here," he said walking over to the small desk in the room. Pastor Jim always had a small amount of art supplies on hand for Sammy. Dean took two pages of construction paper out of a pile and put them onto the desk.
"Do you remember how I showed you how old you are?" Dean asked.
Sammy smiled as he nodded and held up one hand with the fingers splayed open.
"That's right. Now hold up your other hand," Dean instructed.
Sammy put his one hand down and pulled up the other.
"Hold up both at the same time," Dean said and smiled when Sammy did. "How much was one hand?"
"Five," Sammy answered as if it was the dumbest question he ever heard then yawned.
"That's right. But did you know that two hands made ten?" Dean asked.
"No," Sammy said.
"Well it does," Dean said.
"How do you know?" Sammy asked looking up at his brother like he was trying to pull a trick on him.
"I'm older and wiser which means I'm always right," Dean said.
The younger boy studied him for a moment and seeing the sincerity in his brother nodded as he accepted the explanation.
"Put your hands on the paper," Dean instructed.
Sammy stepped forward and placed his hands carefully on the pages.
"Now don't move, ok Sammy? It's important," Dean said as he pulled out a black marker.
"Ok," Sammy said and watched as his brother carefully drew around his fingers. When Sammy pulled his hands back there was no ink on them at all.
Dean looked down at his handy work of two traced hands and on the last pinky finger he wrote Daddy and Dean home.
"So Dad said eight sleeps, right? So the first day you wake up and I'm not here you colour in this finger here," he said pointing at the first little pinky. "Colour one finger for each day and when you get to here Dad and I will be home."
"That's eight sleeps?" the little boy asked.
"Well actually it's ten. Two extra days just in case the job is a little tougher than Dad expects it to be and we are delayed," Dean said. "Not so many, right?"
Sammy shook his head. "That's lots."
"C'mon Sammy. It won't be so bad. You'll be so busy helping Pastor Jim you won't even notice I'm gone," Dean said lightly.
"I'll know," Sammy said softly with tears building in his eyes.
"I have to go Sammy. Dad needs me," Dean said as he pulled his little brother into a hug. He rubbed his back for a moment. "Now let's get you into bed and read you a story, ok?"
Sammy nodded into his chest. Dean got Sammy settled and pulled a book off the shelf. One of Sammy's favourites. T'was The Night Before Christmas. Dean got up onto the bed, let Sammy snuggle up against him and opened the big picture book. He got through the entire book and Sammy was struggling to stay awake. Dean put the book down and pulled the covers up around his little brother.
"I'll read this story to you again when I get back ok," Dean said.
"Promise?" Sam asked around a yawn as his eyes closed.
"I promise," Dean said softly.
"Wif all the voices?" Sammy asked sleepily.
Dean smiled as he ran a hand through his hair. "Yeah with all the voices," he said softly.
Sammy nodded and was soon fast asleep.
Dean sat there watching his brother sleeping and wondered if he'd be able to keep the promise of ten sleeps.