Carry on,
You will always remember,
Carry on,
Nothing equals the splendor.
Now your life's no longer empty,
Surely heaven waits for you.
"Carry on My Wayward Son," Kansas
"Winchester. You know what to do."
*beep*
"Hey Dad, it's Dean. You never answered on whether or not you were coming down next week for Thanksgiving. Call me back when you can."
"Winchester. You know what to do."
*beep*
"Hey Dad, Dean again. Tony said he'd be getting a big Turkey. We're gonna need help eating it all. Call me back."
"Winchester. You know what to do."
*beep*
"Dad, look, it's fine. If you don't want to come to Malibu, it's cool. Just let me know you're OK. Please."
"You have three new messages –"
"Messages deleted."
Mary's favorite holiday was Thanksgiving. As a child, she had envied the other children whose families had great meals and gatherings on the day where family was supposed to be honored and remembered. Hers, on the other hand, treated it as just another Thursday in November. Samuel and Deanna Campbell were always busy with something or another (not that Mary spoke of them much), and the first time she had a proper Thanksgiving was with John. His beautiful wife had gone all out, cooking much too much for the pair of him, which the guys at the garage didn't mind: the leftovers gave everyone a week's worth of lunches.
The very day of Mary's death, she had been planning the feast for the four of them. It would have been the first Thanksgiving since they had reconciled and the first since Sammy was born.
When the actual day had come some weeks later, John and the boys were holed up some shithole motel somewhere in the middle of Montana, Dean nibbling on a turkey sandwich as he fed his little brother his bottle. John himself had already crawled into his own bottle and didn't come out of it until Dean had tugged on his leg the next afternoon, saying he was hungry.
John took a swig of his beer.
After having been such a shit father, John could hardly believe that Dean still liked him enough to invite him to Thanksgiving with him and Tony. But John couldn't. Wouldn't.
He heard more than saw a man sitting at his table, his eyes studying the half-picked off label of the local beer.
"Not interested in company, find your own table," John growled.
"That's your problem – you should be interested," the man replied, and John's eyes shot up. He was about to reply when he recognized the face in front of him.
Tony Stark.
"What the fuck're you doing here?" John exclaimed, nearly tipping his beer over.
"Should be asking you the same thing," Tony replied, putting his elbow on the table and resting his chin on his hand. "Dean's been worrying about you, since you haven't replied to his invitations to spend Thanksgiving with us."
"Well, ye can tell 'im, m'fine," John replied, taking another swig. "And he should be focusing on ye two and not on me."
"Uh-huh, well I think if you took out the 'not', you'd be right," Tony responded, and clarified at John's blank look. "He should focus on us two and you. You're his father. The only blood family that is willing to connect with him – or are you abandoning him like Sam did?"
"I'm not abandoning him!" John stood and yelled, and then at the silence and looks from the other bar patrons, he sat down and spoke softer. "Look, don't let him get that into his head. It's not about him. It's – it's – look," and only because he'd already had a good many beers did his pride let him confess the truth of it all.
"'m no good," John continued. "Tomorrow's bout family, and I fucked it up. Couldn't protect Mary, so she's dead. Overprotected Sam, so he's run off. Then Dean's done everything I asked and that's fucked up his record, so he almost lost ye. Now he's happy. Don't wanna fuck it up. Especially on Thanksgiving. It is – it was Mary's favorite day. Can't – can't fuck up that day for her boys anymore. Don't – don't deserve nuthun."
"Look, you didn't – OK, yeah, you did fuck up sometimes, but what father doesn't?" Tony said, straightening up and putting a hand on John's shoulder. "And you are shit ton better than my old man. At least when you drink, you don't take it out on anyone but yourself. You did your best with what you had. I'm sure that Mary would have been proud of you."
"Why are you here?" John asked again, not wanting to hear those words.
"I'm here to bring my father-in-law home for Thanksgiving," Tony stated firmly.
"Home?" John barked out a laugh and finished his beer. "I got no home, son, in case you didn't notice."
"Isn't the saying, home is where the heart is, or some shit like that?" Tony said, and stood. "Dean is your home, just like he's mine. And he is sad as fuck that you've been ignoring him. I don't know if you come whether you'll fuck it up, but I do know that if you don't, you will have assuredly fucked up. So, your choice is to either possibly fuck it up by coming back with me or truly fuck it up by staying, and at least if you come, you'll get a free meal out of it."
John thought for a moment and was at a loss at how to reply. The boy had a solid argument.
"Fine, I'll come," John replied, and stood, albeit slightly wobbly. "And, well, thanks."
Tony helped balance him with a hand on his arm.
"What else is family for?" Tony replied easily, and they made their way out of the bar, John chuckling. "What's so funny?"
"Dean was right," the older man answered. "You are such a fucking cornball."
AN: If John sounds slightly OOC, it's because he has had more than enough to drink and actually does want to come to Thanksgiving. Didn't need much convincing.
Anyway, this is the end of this particular fic. Hope you enjoyed. Next time we see our boys, we will start to catch up at Iron Man and SPN S1. Prepare yourselves for so much angst. So. Much. Angst.
Because this is a series, the best way to keep updated on when the next fic is posted is through author alerts.
See you next time, in "Highway to Hell (or Triple MIA)".
AN 2: So, I've been updating my Ao3 much more often than fanfic dot net when it comes to this series, so starting today I'm cross posting the fics that I've already published there back to here. Apologies to the fanfic dot net audience. I will get better at it, promise.
Happy Christmas/Festive Season, Love, Insie