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Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or any of the characters. I only own the plot for this particular story.
A/N: This is the last chapter so thank you everyone that has seen this thing through! Sorry it's been so long since I've posted this, I've been so busy with college re-starting and work and life and things have been crazy!
"Gandhi was right: if we all live by 'an eye for an eye' the whole world will be blind. The only way out is forgiveness."
~Unknown
"You know... when you were a kid, I'd come home from a hunt and after what I'd seen I'd be...I'd be wrecked. And you...you'd come up to me and put your hand on my shoulder and you'd look me in they eye and, you'd say 'It's okay, dad.' Dean, I'm sorry."
John could no longer stop the tears as they fell.
"You shouldn't have had to say that to me. I should've been saying it to you. I put too much on your shoulders. I made you grow up too fast. You took care of Sammy, you took care of me. You did that. And you didn't complain, not once. I just want you to know that
I am so proud of you."
He then leaned back in the chair and removed the handkerchief from his pocket, and wiped his face.
He then closed his eyes and allowed himself to get some sleep-- Unaware that Dean had heard every word.
Once he was sure he had heard his father's breathing even out, Dean felt it was safe to open his eyes. He was so not in the mood for a chick-flick moment.
He still couldn't believe he'd heard his father right. His father was proud of him?
The thought seemed impossible, he was his dads little soldier and his little brother's caretaker he never did anything right, or so it seemed.
Dean had always thought if he was a good son then his dad would stick around more, but no matter what he did, whether or not he spent hours cleaning the guns or spent extra time running laps his dad never showed any sign that he was proud of him.
"Until now…" Thought Dean, trying to figure out what would've made his dad finally admit it.
"What did I say?" Dean asked himself…was it something I did?
As much as he appreciated the fact that his dad was proud of him, Dean tried to figure out what would make the man say it!
Dean thought back to the events of the night…."Oh shit" he realized with frightening clarity "I let my guard down! I told dad…I told him he left me."
He realized he must've struck a chord on his fathers heart for him to react the way he did.
Before he could help it, Dean's lungs decided now would be a good time to clear out and he began to cough into the pillow, trying to block out the sound to his father and brother.
No such luck.
His father sat up quickly, his hearing tuned from years of hunting and looked at his sons tear-streaked face.
"You okay kiddo?" John asked as he helped Dean to raise the bed and rubbed comforting circles on the teens back.
"Ya dad…" Dean started "Water?" he finished
"Sure kiddo, hold on." John told him
John left the room only to return a minute later with a small cup. "Ice chips" he told Dean as he took a small spoon from the nightstand and put some into the teens mouth.
Dean closed his eyes and sat back as the ice worked it's way slowly down his throat, soothing the inflamed muscles.
"Dad…" he began "About what you said…."
"What I said?" John asked, still unaware that Dean had heard him speaking earlier.
"About…growing up." Dean told him
Realization suddenly dawned on John, he rubbed a weary hand over his face as he sat up straighter in the chair "Dean I…"
"Was it true?" Dean asked interrupting him
"True?" John asked
"Are you really proud of me?" Dean finished
"Of course Dean!" John stated a little too harshly "Don't you think for a second I'd lie to you about something like that!"
"But dad….Why now? Haven't you noticed what I've done in the past? How good I've always taken care of Sammy? The great back up I give you on hunts? Why now…finally tell me you're proud?"
John was taken aback, he'd never expected this from Dean…he'd always just assume Dean knew he was proud and that words weren't necessary.
But Jesus…his son was just a kid he as a father shouldn't have expected any more from his son.
"I always thought you knew Dean." John stated honestly
Dean thought for a moment….then regarded his father with a sly smile as he wiped the tears from his face "A little reminder every now and then isn't to much to ask is it?"
"I guess not kiddo." John replied
As the tension in the room dissipated, Dean found himself telling his father about an essay award he won in school for English. It was for the best "made up" mythical creature and he'd done his on sirens with stunningly accurate knowledge.
"What was the prize kiddo?" John asked
"I don't know…" Dean said, suddenly quieter "We didn't stick around long enough for me to find out."
"Next time you need to tell me these things Dean." John told him "I'm not psychic you know."
"I know." Dean told him "And I also know that there are more important things."
"More important things?" John questioned
"There's a war brewing dad, you me and Sammy, we are smack dab in the middle of it and we can't let a little thing like an essay get in the way of killing those evil son of a bitches." Dean told him
John actually smiled, a 100 watt absolute radiant smile that stunned Dean. "I'm proud of you son." John told Dean "And yes, I mean it kiddo."
Epilogue:
The next week found the Winchesters packing up their apartment and heading to Singer's Salvage yard.
John and Sam had just finished loading the last of the bags into the Impala and were preparing to go inside and get Dean but they were both shocked when they put the trunk down to see Dean sitting in the drivers side of the Impala with his dad's leather jacket and a pair of sunglasses on.
"What?" Dean questioned innocently as he popped a tape into the cassette player.
"Nothing son." John told him as he climbed into the passenger seat.
Dean was still sore and had the cough, but overall the small family decided a small vacation wouldn't hurt and they didn't know a better place to spend it then Singer Salvage with their dear old Uncle Bobby.
The Impala pulled off onto the highway with the sounds of AC/DC's "Highway to Hell" blaring on the speakers.
No stop signs, speed limit
Nobody's gonna slow me down
Like a wheel, gonna spin it
Nobody's gonna mess me round
Hey Satan, paid my dues
Playing in a rocking band
Hey Momma, look at me
I'm on my way to the promised land
I'm on the highway to hell. ~AC/DC Highway to Hell
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