A/N: Sorry for the lateness and shortness of this chapter. Stilted and awkward attempts at conversation in this one. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Dean had expected everyone to be asleep by the time he got home, but the kitchen light was still on. John was sitting at the table with coffee and an old book.

"Good, you're home," John said, putting down his book. "I wasn't sure how late you were going to be."

Dean shrugged, grabbing a soda from the fridge. "You didn't need to wait up," he muttered. He wasn't quite ready to talk to his father yet. At least, not about anything important.

"I know," John said with a half-shrug. "But I wanted to talk to you."

Damn, Dean thought. There went his plans of avoiding conversation.

Nothing was said for a very long, very awkward few minutes before John tried speaking again, which was no less awkward than the silence.

"How's school?" They both winced at that one.

"It's alright," Dean said, sitting at the rickety little table. This was probably going to take a while.

"And your friends? Sammy was telling me there's some new kids at school you're hanging out with."

"Gabe and Cas," Dean confirmed, nodding. "They're good."

John nodded. "What about Lisa? Are you two still dating?"

Dean cringed, setting down his soda can. "Lisa moved away at the start of Summer," he said, frowning. "We called it quits just before she left."

"Right, you told me that," John said, tapping his fingers on his coffee mug. "I remember that now."

Dean honestly had no idea whether or not he had ever told John about breaking up with Lisa, and he highly doubted John actually remembered it if he had, but he didn't feel like causing a fight.

"So... have you been seeing anyone else?" John asked, and Dean suddenly found himself losing all patience for small talk.

"Are we really gonna do this?" He huffed, scowling a little.

John looked startled for second before shaking his head, the slightest hint of sadness visible in his eyes. It struck Dean in that moment that John looked old. Old and tired.

"I guess it is kinda ridiculous," John admitted. "I do want to talk, but..."

"It's not easy," Dean finished for him.

"I quit drinking," John declared abruptly, cutting straight to what he wanted to talk about. "I know I've got a lot to answer for, especially with you and Sam, but I figure apologies at this point mean nothing unless I change how I act too."

Dean wasn't sure how to respond to that, and he still wasn't convinced that this was going to last. He was, however, impressed that John had managed to last so long with a conversation about what he had on several occasions referred to as 'girly shit'.

"I want to be here more often," John continued, clearing his throat with a short cough. "I know you boys don't really need me anymore, and that's mostly my fault, but I want to be here anyway."

Dean nodded, unsure of what to say.

"You should probably get some sleep," John suggested. "You've got school in the morning.

"Yeah," Dean agreed, standing. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," John replied, draining the last of his coffee. "And Dean, I'm proud of you boys."

Dean gave his father a half-smile, still left a little off-balance from the conversation.