The Night the Lights Went Out in Kansas

Chapter 9

When morning broke, John woke with a new mission. He was no longer going to sit around and feel sorry for himself. He felt like he had a mission, a purpose in life again. Dean seemed hesitant around his dad, he wasn't sure how to take the events of the night before.

"Hey, Buddy, come sit down, we need to talk about something." John spoke in a calm, fatherly voice.

Dean sat on the bed beside his dad.

"Look, I'm sorry about what happened last night. This hasn't been easy on me. I'm sure it's not easy on you either. These men, that live here, they drink things only adults can drink, okay? And, sometimes, when you drink too much of it, it makes you act funny. It can make your mind not want to think right. And, it can make you mad, or sad, or crazy. It just depends on each individual person. That's why, sometimes, Daddy stumbles when I walk, and, why I got so mad last night. I'm going to try really hard to not let that happen again, okay? I'm going to try not to drink so much of it, but that's the way these guys are, and what they give me to drink."

John paused, making sure Dean was following what he was saying. He was, so he continued.

"Look, I need to stay here for a few more days, okay? Then we will move on to some where else. But, I need you to be a big boy and take care of Sammy, do you think you can do that?"

Dean nodded his head, it wasn't like he wasn't already taking care of him.

"Good!" John ruffed up Dean's hair. "I've got some things I need to learn from them, then we'll find somewhere else to go. You can either sit in the room with the tv, or you can stay in here, but I don't want you wondering around anywhere else, it's not safe, got it?"

Dean nodded.

John patted him on his leg. "That's my boy!" He said as he stood and made his way out of the room.

Dean decided he wanted to stay in their room with the bed. It was better than being around the other men. For some reason, he didn't like them, didn't trust them. But, then again, there weren't too many people he did trust. Even at his young age, he seemed to be a good judge of character.

John returned to the room about an hour later. Dean was sitting on the bed playing with Sammy. He had already changed his diaper and clothes, and fed him his baby food. John dropped a bag of food and drinks on the bed for the boys. Dean was glad, because he was starting to feel hungry.

"If you need anything, I'll be in the kitchen, okay?"

Dean nodded and his dad left again.

Dean ate some of the food, and part of a drink, he stored some of it away in the diaper bag. He had already realized food wasn't always available when he needed it, so he would store some for the times he was super hungry. He had learned, if he ate small amounts over a long period of time, instead of eating a lot all at once, it kept him feeling fuller.

He continued playing with Sammy. He loved the way his little brother laughed and giggled. He had learned how to say Dean's name. Which made him feel proud. He didn't even say 'Daddy' yet, but he said "Dee". It only seemed fitting, since he was the one taking care of him, but Dean hadn't tried to get him to say his name, in fact, Dean hadn't even said anything himself. He still hadn't uttered the first word since his mom's death. It wasn't that he couldn't talk, he just didn't want to.

He didn't understand, at his age, but he had closed himself off from the world, everyone except Sammy. He had shut down. He hardly ate anything. If he knew what it meant, he would probably find he was dehydrated, and malnourished. He didn't speak, he didn't play, except with his brother, but that was different. That type of play was to keep the baby happy, it was baby play, not age appropriate play. He wasn't given the opportunity to release the normal energy a child his age should have. Actually, he didn't seem to have any energy anymore. He lost the will to even care.

He was broken. There was an emptiness that seemed to consume his entire body. The only thing that put a smile on his face was his little brother. The only thing that mattered to him at all was his little brother. If not for Sammy, Dean probably wouldn't even have the will, or want, to continue living. Sammy held him up, gave him the push he needed. He, of course, didn't recognize this at his age, but it was the beginning of a life long struggle of a deep-rooted need for his brother, a fight between giving up or being strong for him.

Right now, he had chosen to be strong, giving up wasn't an option as long as his little brother needed him. And, he was the big brother, so his little brother would always need him! He wouldn't always need him to change his diaper, or feed him, but there would always be something he would need from his big brother. At least, Dean hoped that was true, because, if he was being honest, he needed his little brother just as much. He needed his little brother to give him the push he needed to stay alive and keep fighting through life. As long as he had Sammy, he had a purpose, a reason, without him, he was nothing.

The days blended together. They were all the same. It didn't matter what time of day it was. They went through their daily routines just the same. He figured out how to give Sam a bath in the shower. He made sure he gave him one every night. He was anticipating them leaving soon, and wasn't sure if the next place would have a tub or not, so he wanted to be as prepared as he could. Everyday, his dad would give him food, like cereal bars, or little bags of crackers or cookies, and juice boxes. It wasn't the best food for a little boy, but it was all he could do around this area.

Dean would eat just enough to keep his tummy satisfied, then he would put the rest away, saving it for when he needed it. He had started giving Sammy some of his food too, the softer stuff that he could slobber on without choking. He did have some teeth, so that helped. But, he was running low on baby food, so Dean figured that needed to be saved for later too. At least he had plenty of formula for bottles. If nothing else, he would just fix him extra bottles when he got hungry.

He was also running low on diapers, so Dean didn't change him as often as he needed. He was good about changing him every couple of hours, even if he really didn't need it, but now, he could only change him when needed. The days turned into a week. But, to Dean, it could have been a year, it all felt the same.

He had fallen into a depression that he didn't know was possible. He was too young to understand feelings, and a kid his age shouldn't have such a deep sadness. But, he wasn't a normal kid his age, and wasn't living a normal life. The fact he wasn't talking, and hadn't been active since his mom died, kept the deepening of the depression from his dad noticing. He wasn't around him anyhow, so he didn't see that the boy would lay down and sleep as often as he could. He even stopped playing with Sammy so much. He would put him in his bed to play and Dean would return to sleep.

The darkness, the lack of consciousness, the loss of feelings, it was all better than being awake and living in the endless cycle of life. He didn't show any emotion, either way, when his dad said they were leaving. Dean just helped pack their belongings and got his brother ready for the car ride. He hadn't left his room in a week, except to use the bathroom, which due to the dehydration, wasn't very often, and to give Sammy his bath. He didn't even care if he had a bath anymore, but of course, he had to keep himself clean too or his dad would complain.

When they said their goodbyes, Dean held tight to his dad's side. He just wanted to sink away, to not be seen or spoken to. John had Sam in one arm, and the other arm wrapped around Dean's shoulders. He ushered them out to the car. Dean sunk into his seat, glad to be out of that dark, dusty room, and back to a place that was familiar. He really wanted to sink into the floor, that was his safety place, but he knew his dad would get upset because he needed to be buckled in the seat when he drove, so he sat still.

John pulled away from the house, Dean stared at it out of the window, again, the same as with his family home, he vowed to never return. The place had a darkness about it, one he didn't like. And, the men who lived there gave him a creepy feeling.

"I figured, when we get back to the main road we'll stop somewhere and get us a good meal, what'cha think?"

John looked at his son in the mirror, and his heart sank. He saw Dean shrug his shoulders. He wasn't really hungry, he had learned to live off practically nothing. His head was lowered, his eyes had this empty sadness about them. The once bubbly little boy was sunk into his seat, shoulders slumped, and his skin looked pale.

"You feeling okay, Champ?"

Dean glanced up at his dad, caught his eyes in the mirror, and nodded his head.

"I know that place wasn't ideal, but I needed to learn some things from them, and now that I have, we won't need to go back there again, okay?"

Again, Dean just nodded his head as he lowered it back down.

"I figure we need to go to the store too, am I right?"

Nod.

"Let me guess, we need diapers?"

Nod.

"Wipes?"

Nod.

"Baby food?"

Nod.

"Water?"

Nod, Dean wasn't about to make his brother a bottle with anything but bottled water, especially in a place like where they were just at.

"Formula?"

Dean shook his head, he still had plenty of that.

"Snacks for my champ?"

Again, Dean shook his head, he had plenty stored away in his brother's diaper bag, but he wasn't interested in eating them anyhow. It was only for survival purposes, and to make sure Sam had something if he ran out of his food.

"You don't want any snacks for yourself?"

Dean shook his head again.

John's heart sunk a little more. When had his little boy become so emotionless? When did he become so pale looking? So thin? He started thinking of the past week or so that they were staying with the hunters he had met, and realized he hadn't even been around his boys, except to sleep. He didn't know how much either of them had eaten. He wasn't aware when baths were given or diapers were changed. He didn't even know if they still had diapers or baby food. He didn't know what his boys had done over the past week, closer to a week and a half. In fact, he couldn't even remember if they had been out of the room, he doubted it, because the tv was never turned on, and those were the only two places he told Dean he could go.

"Hey, Champ, it'll get better, I promise. I know it's different right now, I know there's a lot to get used to, a lot to process, but it'll get better, you just gotta give it some time."

He sounded more like he was trying to convince himself instead of Dean.

John had never felt so thankful when he had pulled into the nearest town. The silence in the car was becoming too much, there was an awkwardness about it. First, they went to the nearby diner. After John had ordered their food, even though Dean shook his head 'no' when his dad asked what he wanted, he ordered him food anyhow. Then, for the first time in 2 weeks, he told Dean to sit still, that he was going to go change Sam's diaper, you could smell him a mile away.

John figured, with all the responsibility he had placed on his oldest son, the least he could do was change his youngest's poopy diaper while he was able. He hadn't expected to find what he did when he started to change Sammy. His heart sunk even more. Under the few diapers that were left, was 2 containers of baby food, probably the last 2 John figured, and packs of the food he had given Dean through out the week. It only appeared that a few things were eaten. He wondered if his son had eaten at all, or if he put the food in the bag for his baby brother.

John finished changing his son and returned to their table. He had returned just in time; their food was being served.

"MMM this looks good, doesn't it son?"

Dean just looked up at his dad and forced a half-hearted, crooked smile.

"Eat up!" He said to Dean as he took a bite of his own food.

Sammy was happy, playing in his food as he fisted it into his own mouth.

Dean gave Sam a slight smile, he could always bring up a smile in Dean, even if it was a small one.

Dean took a bite, and his stomach protested. He hadn't eaten real food in so long, and actually, he hadn't eaten an entire bite of food in even longer. His tummy was starting to rumble at the smell, bringing back hunger with a vengeance, but it was also protesting the feel of something so solid, so heavy, that had just been introduced to it.

He fought back the urge to vomit. He sipped on his Coke, trying to settle his stomach. He started smooshing his food, and cutting it up with his fork, pushing it around on his plate. It made it look like there was less than there actually was. Dean had taken a few more nibbles of food, but felt full after just that little bit. He had given some of his food to Sam, piece by piece. Sam gladly took it an ate it.

John watched his son's behavior. He hadn't noticed it before, not until he found the food stored away. He knew his son hadn't eaten as much since his mom's death, but he hadn't realized the kid was practically starving himself. He knew he never finished his plate full of food, but he didn't pay it any attention, he didn't realize he was feeding some to his brother, and just pushing his food around, making it look like less. John figured Dean had only ate the one good bite, and 2 or 3 small nibbles. He didn't even finish his small cup of soda.

"Dean." John leaned half over the table, and was speaking in a quiet voice, so only Dean could hear. "You need to eat, Buddy, you can't let yourself starve."

Dean looked up at his dad with those empty, saddened eyes, and shook his head no, pushing the plate away from him.

"You not hungry?"

He shook his head no again.

"Are you full already?"

He nodded his head, yes.

"Okay."

John wasn't sure what to do about this situation he was now facing. Oh, how he wished Mary was there. She would know how to fix it. Maybe it's just something, a phase, kids go through? He hoped that's all it was, and not anything more serious. But, then again, he hasn't even been around his kids to know if there was anything wrong. Maybe the kid was sick or something?

Once they had all finished, Dean was curled in the corner of his booth with his eyes closed. He wasn't completely asleep, but he wasn't completely awake either.

"You ready to go to the store, stock up on what we need? Then hit the road again?"

John's voice pulled Dean from his sleepiness. When he opened his eyes, his dad was lifting Sam from his chair. Without a reply, Dean scooted himself out of his seat and stood beside his dad.

In the store, he tried to get Dean to pick out some food and drinks for himself, it was a loosing battle. In fact, the items he did pick out, only because he was being forced to, were things Sammy could eat and drink too, if needed, for survival. That act didn't go unnoticed by John, especially since he watched his oldest son feed the little one his food, making sure he had plenty to eat, and the fact the other snacks were tucked away in his diaper bag with his baby food, and they were all things the little one could eat on too.

Once they had left the store, John's heart was heavy. He watched as his son sunk back into his seat, almost invisible to the world, leaned his head against the window and closed his eyes again.

John let out a sigh as he started to engine and drove away, toward his next destination.