The muffled voices of Will's parents became more and more clear with every step he gingerly took. He pressed himself against the wall creating as small a shadow as he could.
Will knew there was something going on. He could feel the tension building all day. It almost suffocated him during dinner. His mother kept quiet through the whole meal, making quick glances to where his sister would have sat had she been home.
But then again Honey hadn't been home in a long time.
His father's shoulders were taunt and set with frustration. He didn't eat the meal that Mom had made, instead he had decided to drink glass after glass of his favorite whiskey.
"But why you?" Jo's voice strained in an attempt at a whisper. Her aggravation clearly painted with her words.
"Jo," Will could hear his father sigh, "Who else is there?"
Will heard the flop of his mother's hand hitting the arm of the couch, "It doesn't always have to be a Winchester." Jo argued.
Will could imagine the look on his father's face from years of experience. The wrinkles on his forehead creasing, the corners of his mouth turning down into a grimace. "Jo, what am I supposed to do here? We've been given an opportunity to make the world better for our kids, who are out there everyday risking their lives."
"Yeah, what about our kids?" Jo challenged. "What are you going to tell them?"
Silence filled the house, Dean didn't plan on telling them anything. That much was obvious.
"Unbelievable." Jo mumbled to herself, the couch cushions groaning as she got up from her seat. Will almost began to retreat up the stairs but something his mother said kept him rooted to the steps. "Will is only eighteen. You were twenty six when John died."
Will's brows creased, Grandpa John died when Will was a kid, and Dean was far older than twenty six.
"That was different." Dean countered. "I didn't have a mother to look after me. Or two older siblings for that matter."
"He's not ready for this."
"He's not or you're not?"
"Dean." Jo begged. "Please."
"It's got to be done, Jo." Will's father's gruff voice floated softly out of the room. It was a tone that Will knew very well, it was the same tone he used to teach Will how to ride a bike, or how to fix a car, the soft tone of placating.
Jo sighed, her breath choked with emotion she was trying to swallow. "How long?"
"I don't know. It could be weeks, months, years. Depends on how quickly the tablets can be translated and how long each task takes. I just don't know."
Will crouched down on the stairs and peaked his head around the corner.
Dean lounged back in his recliner and Jo was on the opposite side of the room, perched on the arm of the couch. She nodded slowly, chewing on her bottom lip as she stared down at the ground, no doubt her mind was flipping through a hundred different scenarios. "Okay," She whispered, nodding again with a bit more force. Her brown eyes looked up to meet Dean's green. "It's got to be done, right?" She repeated his words.
Dean bowed his head, he knew as well as Will, Jo didn't mean it. She was just placating him like he had done her. They would never see eye to eye on this.