21:08
"Hey Dean!" Dean turned around when Jake called his name at recess. Jake's was the only kid whose name he'd bothered learning. (Well, he knew Timothy's name, but that was only cause the teacher yelled at him a lot.) Dean just raised a hand and offered a smile, stopping in the sand to wait for Jake to catch up. "Aren't you excited for tomorrow?" Jake asked.
"What's tomorrow?" Dean asked, though he already knew the answer. He'd just been avoiding it for the last two weeks, hoping they would be gone by then. Unfortunately, Dad was good to his word and they had stayed in whatever town this was for a few months, and tomorrow was the last day before Thanksgiving break.
"Career Day!" Jake yelled excitedly, waving the frisbee in his hand around dangerously. "My mom's coming. She's a nurse. Is your dad coming?"
Dean already regretted the little he'd told Jake about hi family. The boy only knew that Dean had a brother named Sam, and a dad that wasn't around much. As far as Jake knew, though, his dad was still a mechanic. Dad didn't want Dean telling anyone about what he really did, and Dean wasn't sure he'd want to tell people even if he could. His dad hunted monsters; who did that? People would think his whole family was weird.
"Nah, he's outta town," Dean said, which wasn't a complete lie. Dad [i]was[/i] out of town. If Dean forgot to mention that his dad was supposed to be back in town by tonight, who would know?
"That sucks," Jake said. "Everyone's parents are coming."
"Everyone minus one," Dean corrected.
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Dean checked the clock on the wall again. Eight o'clock. The hands on the lock seemed to mock him the longer he stared. When Dad said he was coming back, he was usually back before five.
"Sammy, time to go to bed," Dean said, tearing his eyes away from the clock.
Sammy looked up from where he was making his toy dinosaurs attack each other. "But Daddy's not home," he whined.
"He'll be here when you wake up," Dean agreed. "But you were supposed to be in bed an hour ago. He's gonna be late, and he'll be mad if you're still awake."
Sam grumbled, but stood up, leaving his toys on the floor. Dean picked the up and moved them to the table between their beds. He made sure Sammy brushed his teeth and changed into his pajamas, then turned the light on that side of the room off and walked back to the chair closer to the front door.
He sat down and returned to practicing his spelling words for the test the next day. Sometime near midnight he heard someone at the door. He was sure it was dad, but he jumped on his bed out of habit, reaching under the pillow and touching the metal handle.
"Dean, you still awake, boy?" The rough voice made Dean smile.
"Yeah, Bobby," Dean whispered just loud enough that the man could hear him.
"Bring me the first aid kit under the sink," Bobby said, sticking his head through the door, eyes darting to Sam's sleeping form, then back to Dean.
Dean nodded, and ran to grab the first aid kit. When he walked out of the room, he dropped it on the concrete. "Dad," Dean hated how his voice broke on the word. Dad was laying across a bench against the side of the hotel, head propped up on what Dean recognized as his weapons bag. Bobby was kneeling beside him, pressing a cloth against dad's stomach, but the blue cloth had started dying purple the longer he held it there.
"Dean," Bobby said, getting his attention. Dean jumped, scooping up the first aid it and bringing it over to Bobby.
"Dad," Dean said again, standing by his dad's head.
"Hey Dean," he said, forcing a small smile. He coughed, and Dean tried not to notice the blood that spewed out of his lips. "You alright? How's Sammy?"
"We're fine," Dean said. "What happened?"
"You're dad's an idjit is what happened," Bobby said gruffly. He had a gauze pressed against a long cut on the side of his dad's body, just below his ribs. Dean leaned over to hold the gauze so Bobby could get something to wrap it up in. "You shoulda waited fer me, John," he said, digging through the first aid kit again.
"The woman," Dean heard his dad groan out. "Stupid woman. Woulda killed her before you got there."
"What would've killed her?" Dean asked.
His dad cracked an eye open at him. "It's called a wendigo," he said. Dean just nodded, not wanting to ask anything else about it. It was strong enough to hurt his dad. He didn't need to know anything else about it.
"She alright?" Bobby asked. He'd finished bandaging the wound and held outa hand to help him sit up.
His dad groaned in pain as he sat up, but nodded. "A little shaken up, but she'll be back working at the hospital in no time."
"Nothin' like savin' someone who'll save someone else," Bobby said.
"You saved her?" Dean asked, looking at his dad.
He nodded, then winced when Bobby clapped a hand to his shoulder. "It's what he does," he said matter-of-factly.
"You should get to bed, Dean," his dad said.
Dean nodded, going back into the hotel room. The few times all three of them were in the room, Dean would share a bed with Sammy, but his brother was spread out across the entire expanse of the small mattress. He knew dad wouldn't complain if he had to sleep on the couch, but he was hurt. SO Dean grabbed the handgun he kept under the pillow and tucked it under the couch cushions, just to make sure Sammy didn't happen across it. He grabbed the top blanket that Sammy had kicked off and curled up on the couch, a smile on his face for the first time in a long time.
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Dean tapped his foot impatiently through the first half of the parents standing up to talk. Business men, relators, editors, store clerks. None of them had a very interesting story. A woman got up, a sling on her arm and several shallowscratches across her face and neck, and Jake tapped him on the shoulder. Dean turned around to his friend.
"That's my mom," he hissed. Why, Dean wasn't sure, since the woman told the class as a whole that she was Jake's mother. She talked about her job at the hospital. She worked around the new mothers and newborn babies.
"What happened to your arm?" a girl (Dean thought her name was Kendal, but he wasn't sure,) asked when the woman asked for questions.
The woman hesitated, looking at the arm, and then back at Kendal with a forced smile. "Last night," she said. "I got attacked when I was walking home."
"A monster attacked you?" Timothy yelled.
The woman laughed, but it sounded a bit uneasy to Dean. "No, no," she said. "It was a couple wild dogs. I was lucky though. A nice man helped me. Now, are there any other questions?"
Dean smiled, not even paying attention the other questions kids asked, or remembering any of the other parents that stood up to talk. He couldn't tell them what his dad did, but that was okay. He knew he had the coolest parent of all.
His dad was a superhero.
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A/N: I'm pretty happy with how this chapter turned out. It's not beta'd, so I apologize for any mistakes. Please review! I love them so much and they give me inspiration to write more!