Disclaimer: I don't own anything you might recognize from Supernatural.
A/N: Dean is about 12 years old and Sam is 8.
Dean hated the place he had been put in. He had been there for three weeks now and that was more than enough time to get tired of the wannabe thugs trying to pick a fight with him every chance they got. There were at least ten other boys at the 'home' Dean was staying at, Dean didn't think home was even the proper word for it, the Impala was a better home than this if you asked him. He had spoken to his dad on the phone a couple of times and was beyond relieved when John had told him he would be picking him up later that afternoon. He had apparently managed to convince the authorities that he was away on a business trip and that the nanny he had hired to watch the boys for a few days hadn't held up her end of the bargain, which he of course was completely unaware of. Dean didn't know how he did it but John was a pretty convincing liar. Dean smirked to himself thinking about it. He must have gotten that from his dad.
Dean sat and waited on the worn down porch outside of the big house, getting the last bit of afternoon sun when he heard the familiar rumbling of the Impala. He pushed himself on his feet and jogged to the street just as the shiny black car came into view. Relief flooded through him and he found himself smiling for the first time in days. He wasn't prepared for the big bear hug his dad gave him as soon as he sat down in the passenger seat but he hugged him back anyway. He had missed his dad more than he would like to admit. John patted him on the shoulder once before letting go.
"Son, it's good to see you." he said and smiled but it somehow looked as if he was smiling through tears and Dean frowned at his father.
"Yeah it's good to see you too dad."
John never cried, not once could Dean remember seeing his father cry, with the exception of the night Mary had died. John had already started driving away from the loud house and was heading towards the highway fast, road signs and trees swishing by quietly. He was afraid that if he slowed down he would turn around and change his mind about..
"Where's Sammy? Are we going to pick him up?" Dean asked suddenly and John cringed, looking out of the window.
"No Dean, were not." he said and felt choked, he tried to get his emotions under control and waited for what he knew was to come.
"What? What do you mean, have you already picked him up?" Dean said, turning his head towards the empty backseat. He frowned at his dad, confused.
"No" was all John said, his eyes never left the road.
Dean just kept quiet, waiting for an explanation, he didn't understand what his dad meant at all.
John swallowed before he said, "Sam is going to stay with his foster family, it's better that way, they're good people, he'll be safe." Though he wasn't sure who he was trying to convince the most, Dean or himself.
Earlier that day.
John drove slowly down the street holding a note in his hand, it was the address the social worker had given him. He frowned as he entered the nice and wealthy neighborhood. The houses here were big and most of them newly painted. On his way, he could see several children out playing in the sun. He slowed down at a house with a white picket fence and a big green lawn. From where he was sitting, he could see all the way across the lawn to five children at the other end, playing soccer. He was just about to climb out of the car when he saw Sam come running out of the house. He joined the others in trying to get the ball back from whoever had it. John was far away but he could still see the big grin Sam had on his face, as did the rest of the children. He looked genuinely happy, John hadn't seen him like that since he was a toddler, always smiling at everything and everybody. As John sat there watching, a woman walked from the porch to a big table set up on the grass. She was carrying a platter with cookies and some other tasty looking items. She looked to be in her forties and had shoulder long, brown hair. She laughed and said something to the children who immediately started running towards the table. They were all busy talking to each other as a nice looking man, probably around the same age as the woman, sat down at the far end of the table and held out his hands. They all grabbed on to the hand of the person next to them and bowed their heads. The man said something and everybody finished together with an, even for John audible Amen, before they started to dig in on the sweets. John heard the social worker's passionate words echo in his head. What was her name? Nancy."This is one of the best foster families I've ever been in contact with. Caring and loving parents, something to think about when you consider what you have to offer.." John had been less than kind when telling her she didn't know what she was talking about, but now John wasn't so sure. They all looked so happy… John took one last look at his smiling son and then the people who would be there to look after him before he threw the car in drive and sped off in the Impala with only one thought in his mind, "I can't offer that".