Chapter 8
Dean sat in a chair in the corner, his collar up, watching his little brother. Sam lay on the bed staring at the ceiling. He wouldn't respond when Dean started questioning him, so he gave up and waited for Dad. He wasn't looking forward to John's reaction to this, especially after he smelled the alcohol on Sam's breath.
He'd really scared the crap ot of them. John had nearly had an aneurism when he saw the open door. He rushed outside came back in panicked when Sam hadn't been there. Dean didn't often see his father terrified and it made him feel like the floor had dropped away from under his feet.
Of course the first thing they both thought of, was that something had taken him. It boggled the mind that something could have got into the room and taken him from under their noses, but the idea of him wilfully running off honestly hadn't occurred to either of them. They'd split up, John had taken the car and instructed Dean to search around the motel. It had been an hour of panicked searching with his heart in his mouth before he'd found Sammy, drunk in the bushes not 500 feet away. Dean forced himself to breathe. Its ok now he's here , he's safe.
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John practically pulled the door of the hinges when he arrived back. Rushing over to the bed, pulling Sam to his feet. "Are you ok?" He looked Sam up and down frantically, trying to ascertain what was wrong with him. "Are you drunk? Sam?"
Sam looked at his feet groggily, swaying.
"SAM YOU ANSWER ME!" Dad yelled, making Dean jump in his chair. He shook Sam slightly.
Sam shrugged. 'Yeah." He slurred.
"Yeah?" John repeated, "yeah, you thought it would be a good idea to take off into the fucking night without telling anyone and go to a bar?" His face red with fury. "LOOK AT ME when I'm talking to you!"
Sam either couldn't or wouldn't look at His father. He continued to stare at his feet. John pulled a chair over to the centre of the room and pushed Sam down into it.
"You damn well tell me what's going on here, and that an order, young man!"
Sam looked up at John, an odd look on his face. "I wanted a drink."
Dean's heart sprang into his mouth, no one spoke to John in that tone of voice. Shut up Sammy! You're on thin ice you idiot!
John shut his eyes and took at deep breath. "You think that's ok Sam? You think you can wander off and go on a bender?"
"You do it." Sam replied, without missing a beat. John's eyebrows shot up to his hairline.
"Sam you watch your tone! This isn't about what I do, its about you scaring the hell out of Me and your brother!" he pointed at Dean, where he huddled in the chair.
"Which bar was it Dean? I'm going to report them for serving him!"
Dean's mouth was dry. He didn't want to get Sam in even worse trouble but he was... Well, in about as much trouble as he could get at this stage.
"He... He was in the bushes behind the bar next door. I dunno where he got the booze."
John rounded on Sam again.
"Well?" He asked, throwing his arms wide.
"Stole it from the storeroom." Sam whispered.
"You stole it?"
"SO?" Sam yelled, so suddenly and angrily that John took a step back. "YOU steal all the time! You have stolen credit cards! You go out and get drunk! Why is it this terrible thing all of a sudden?"
John paled. Unsure of how to handle this drunken outburst. He wasn't unsure for long.
"You damn well know the difference between me, a grown man, unwinding after a hunt, and you ,a fourteen year old boy, hanging out behind seedy bars getting drunk! Don't you dare make this about me!" He yelled, grabbing the arms of the chair. Sam flinched as John got in his face.
"I need to unwind too!" Sam whimpered, his voice cracking in the face of his fathers rage. "I had to get away from you!"
John rolled his eyes. "Really Sam? Why is that?"
"Y...you're a hypocrite!" Stammered Sam. Visibly shaking with fear yet still pushing John.
"Sammy!" Dean warned. Hoping he wouldn't be forced to step between the two of them.
"Let him finish Dean." John said quietly. Sam continued, the alcohol making him brave.
"You say that hunting's about saving people but it's not... It's about you, getting your revenge! You don't respect people! You drink and you gamble and you... Kill! and you think it makes you a good person! You... You don't even care if you live or die and you're happy to drag Dean down with you!"
To Deans horror John took off his belt and doubled it over. Staring at his insubordinate son with rage so intense that he was shaking with it.
"No Dad!" Dean was on his feet.
"Stay out of this Dean!" John yelled at him.
Dean didn't know what to do. Dad's orders and Sam's safety had never been at odds before. He stood there, unable to move. Memories of that belt flooded into his mind, memories of a different John, just after Mary died and he thought he was going insane, seeing things. When the only things stopping him from drinking himself to death were the six month old baby and a traumatised child he had for company.
John literally saw red. Hearing those words from his son was too much. Especially after the scare he'd given them. He reached out and grabbed the boys wrist, ready to beat the daylights out of him, when he saw Dean out of the corner of his eye.
Shaking. His eyes wide, his jaw set. Dean walked over and grabbed his father's wrist. John stared at him for a few seconds, Dean looked back unflinching, he didn't say a word but his meaning was clear enough. Don't even think about it. John pulled his arm away and turned back to Sam.
"You know what my father would have done to me in this situation Sam?" He hissed, brandishing the belt in his son's terrified face. I swear to God I'm an inch away from following his example, you going to push me boy?"
Sam shook his head rapidly. John looked at the terrified kid for a moment and threw the belt on the floor.
"Next time you pull a stunt like this I Will. Not. Hesitate. Got it?" He asked, gripping Sam's chin , making him look him in the eye.
"Yes sir." Whispered Sam.
" This hunt means everything Sam!" We can't go do this thing if we're worrying about you running off and doing something stupid! You need to start growing up! We're at war here. You're a soldier whether you know it or not."
John let go of him and turned to Dean.
" I'm going out. Do not let him out of your sight, understand?"
Dean nodded, unable to speak.
John stormed out, slamming the door as he went. The brother's stood silently, for a full minute, their breath coming in gasps, then Sam broke down in sobs and Dean practically flew over and wrapped his arms around him.
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John sat in the car, trying to calm himself down, he had come dangerously close to violence in there and he knew it. God he needed a drink. No, that wouldn't do, that was part of the problem here, he had to focus, to make his boys focus.
Son of a bitch! What? Was the kid looking for attention? The usual teenage rebellion at least came with a bit of surliness as a warning, Not out of the fucking blue!
No, he wasn't looking for attention, he was crying for help, and John couldn't give it to him. The only way that he could rid his children of nightmares and horrific events was to kill this Demon. The sooner he got to Sedona the better, he kicked himself again for not leaving the boys with Bobby. He'd leave them here and call for Dean when he knew the Demon's location. That would rid him of distractions and give Sam and Dean a chance to recover from that fucking day in Midway. That's what had started all this. If only he'd realised, or been fast enough to save the woman and...
"God damnit!" He punched the dashboard.
He considered ,for a moment, the things Sammy had said to him in his drunken sincerity. He wondered where the hell that vitriol had come from. He knew the boy was resentful about their lifestyle but he didn't realise it had got that bad. All the more reason to put an end to this now, he thought. Just focus on this last hunt John and you'll be home free, the kids will be safe and you can get the boys into therapy or something. Try and repair some of the damage you've done.
Jesus, he'd really nearly beaten his kid! That was serious, he'd always vowed not to be like his father when it came to discipline. Besides the odd slap. For the most part he'd stuck to that... For the most part.
He wondered how much Dean remembered about his early childhood. John himself couldn't remember much before the age of six or seven and he'd hoped Dean would be the same, but that look in there... He remembered all right, and never said a word about it. He was sure that if he had hit Sam that he would have seen another side of Dean.
Mary wouldn't have stood for it either, God that kid was so like his mother, not just in looks. It broke his heart sometimes. He'd sometimes say something or use a mannerism that was so like her that John thought she was in the room.
He put his head back and let himself drift to sleep. He'd need a couple of hours if he was going to drive all night. He didn't dream of monsters anymore, they were so prevalent in his everyday life that they rarely bothered his dreams. He didn't even dream about Vietnam or even the dead baby that had been haunting him since Midway. He dreamed of his wife, and children, laughing.
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When He went back into the room, he found the boys in bed. Dean was watching TV with the sound down and Sam was sleeping on his stomach like he always did. John went over to the bed and lightly touched Sam's sleeping head.
Dean looked up at him with red eyes, had he been crying?
"Hi Dad." He said softly.
"Hey Ace! Listen, I've decided to head for Sedona tonight."
"W..What?" Dean asked, hardly able to believe his ears.
"Don't worry, I'm just going to speak to the Shaman. I'll be a couple of days at the most. I'll call you when I know what's going on."
"But Dad... Here, in Gallup? Really?"
John put up his hand, silencing his son. " Shh! don't wake Sam! Listen, I know the past few days have been tough. You both could use some rest, so you stay here, you train, you rest, you watch him" He indicated Sam, " like a hawk, and I'll call for you when I have a plan" He got his bag from the corner, and extracted his wallet.
"Here." He gave Dean a wad of fifties. "If you run out use the credit card."
Dean swallowed down the words he wanted to say and watched helplessly as his father packed up his things.
"You be good now and watch your brother." John said out of habit, as though he were still speaking to a little boy. That's what it felt like, every time. He wanted to leave before emotion got the better of him.
"Dad?"
He turned, at the door. "Yeah son?"
"Be careful."
John smirked "Nothings got the best of me yet kid."
Dean smiled back at him. John took one last look at Sam and closed the door. Breathing deeply, he closed his eyes and steeled himself for what lay ahead.
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As soon as the door closed, the smile disappeared from Dean's face. He got up and double checked all the salt lines, re-drew the devil's trap on the windowsill, and made sure the door was triple locked before he went back to bed. Turning off the light and Lying a little closer to Sam than he normally would.
Through the wall he heard a baby start to cry. He squeezed his eyes shut and put his fingers in his ears.
So much for sleep.
