7. An Old Friend
It was his own phone ringing that awoke John. He rubbed his tired eyes and glanced at his watch. 'Four in the morning. Brilliant.' Inwardly cursing the caller for waking him this way, he made his way sleepily to the kitchen table where he'd left his phone.
"Hello?" he mumbled in the receiver.
"Hello, John. Didn't wake you up, did I?" a sarcastic voice said. John didn't know why, but the stranger's voice made him feel uncomfortable.
"Who is this?" he asked, and the man on the other end laughed.
"Why Johnny, you hurt me! I thought you'd remember my voice!" That didn't help. But just as John was about to reply, the man went on. "So, how's Dean? Not too shaken, is he?"
John was puzzled for a second. How could he possibly know…? And then he froze. The man that hurt his son was calling him just to mock him? What kind of bad fiction was that? "You did this to him, didn't you?" he growled, but that only made the man laugh again.
"Dad?" he heard his eldest's voice behind him, "What's wrong?" John raised a hand to silence his son. Dean looked annoyed but nodded nonetheless, knowing now wasn't the time to push.
"My buddies told me he's been stitched up pretty good. I'm glad to hear it, cause I kinda like him. He's so fun to play with." John could feel his blood boil up in his veins. A quick glance at his father's face was enough to worry Dean. "Oh John, don't be too mad at us. When he was a kid you always said he didn't smile often. Just see the funny part: now he's smiling all the time!"
"You son of a bitch, you're gonna pay for what you did to him!" 'Ah, so it comes to this' Dean thought. He smirked as he saw John's knuckles turn white. He wasn't doing that good himself, but he sure as hell didn't want the man's place right now.
"Now, now, Johnny, is that a way to talk to an old friend?" the man teased, "But let's be serious for a second. I called you to deliver a message." The man paused but when John waited, he went on, "I'm pretty sure Dean's told you before, but I wanted to make sure he hasn't downplayed it. This was only for show. If you don't come to us, your son's gonna suffer even more because of you."
And before John could say anything, the line went dead. He threw his phone back on the table, trying to suppress the urge to punch someone, because the only someone in the room with him was Dean, and that wasn't an option. He looked at his son and could tell he was dying to ask him about the phone call, and he knew he had to tell him.
"He delivered his message." John said, counting on Dean to understand. Sure enough, his son did.
"I already have." Dean said simply.
"Wanted to make it clear."
Dean nodded slightly, but winced when that hurt his throbbing head, and cursed when the wince sent a sharp pain to his cheeks. "What are you gonna do?"
John looked at his son like he'd grown an extra head. "What do you mean? I'm gonna go after them! Hunt them down, make them pay for it!"
"Dad, I thought we'd covered that ground, you just can't! They're ready to get you if you do that! You have to lay low at that's it."
"They'll try to get you!"
"I'll stick with you and Sammy, nothing can happen to me. Just…" Dean looked away, trying to find the right words. "Just let it go, just this once. Please."
John looked down at his feet, unable to look at his son anymore, the scars a constant reminder of his failure. He didn't understand how Dean could ask such a thing of him. How was he supposed to let these guys go after what happened? How was he supposed to forget when the hideous scars seemed to mock him every time he dared to look at his first born?
"Dad." Dean's voice made John look up. "I had time to observe them, you know. They don't care about risks and they don't even hesitate before making a move. They went all Clockwork Orange on me and all I could do was grit my teeth and take it. And you know that I'm not beat that easily." A ghost of Dean's trademark smirk appeared on his lips, and John didn't know if he was glad or scared to see it. "But they beat me, and they beat me well. And no offence, but I don't think you'd last long if they got a grip on you."
Suddenly John found it harder to breathe. He couldn't bear the thought of people hurting Dean, but his son's speech brought images to his brain that he hoped he'd never see. He knew Dean was right, but he just couldn't lay low. He was a Winchester for God's sake.
But looking at his son's expecting eyes, he knew laying low was exactly what he needed to do. So he closed his eyes, took a deep breath and slowly nodded. When he opened his eyes again, Dean was smiling. Not a smirk or a fake smile, a real smile. "Thank you Dad." He said.
John acknowledged Dean's statement by another nod. He was afraid that if he talked his voice would break and Dean would try to comfort him, when he was the one that really needed to be comforted. He swallowed, try to get a grip on his emotions. When he felt it was safe to talk again, he gave Dean a small smile. "You should go back to sleep. You must be really tired to make allusions to such a crappy movie."
Dean laughed. "Hey, it's the closest I could get. And it was a classic I might add."
"Go to bed." John chuckled, giving Dean a playful shove. "You look horrible."
Dean rolled his eyes. "Yeah, love you too."
Once he was alone again, John allowed himself to drop on the couch. He ran a tired hand on his face, surprised to feel wetness on his cheeks. He was glad Dean was gone before the tears came though. He never would have gone back to bed if he'd known his father was crying.
John had made an almost impossible promise to his son, but he still intended not to break it. But God help these bastards if they tried to get to Dean again.
TBC...
Okay, I know I say it a lot, but thanks for reading cause it does mean a lot.
And I'm sorry for all the Clockwork Orange fans, but I didn't like that movie! lol Plus it was just my (although respectful) opinion through John's mouth so no need to be mad at me for that.
Also, for the record, I put a Joker line in there. Did you recognize it? If so, let me know!
And I do love reviews, so don't be shy!
See y'all tomorrow!
nerwende