AN: Hi there! Sorry this was so long in the making; but as I mentioned before, April was a tough time for me at work. Well I am happy to report that my month from hell is now behind me and I can get back to having some sort of life which I started tonight by having a few glasses of wine and writing this chapter. Actually, I to be honest, I started with the wine on Friday night ;-) Anyway I hope you enjoy this one; I admit I'm a little rusty and I'm not totally thrilled with it but it's better than nothing right? The next one should be up soon. Thanks!
Twenty minutes later John emerged from the bedroom. He looked exceptionally tired to Dean and if the son, who knew him better than anyone in the world, didn't know better he could have sworn that his Dad had been crying.
John passed by Dean without a look or a word and headed straight for the kitchen. He hated disciplining his own boys let alone his grandson but he would be damned if he was going to stand around and let any one of them get away with attitude or language like that. He had zero tolerance for insolent brats; his son's knew it and now so did Chris.
Dean slowly shuffled himself into the kitchen. His father's shoulders were hunched as he stood facing the cabinets. His one hand was flat on the counter top while his other loosely held the empty whiskey glass he was now gazing into; deep in thought. Both his son's hated when he drank but his oldest at least understood why he did. Dean was the only person in the world that John felt comfortable letting let his guard down in front of; the only one who he didn't needed to explain himself or his actions to. Somehow, someway Dean just got it and if he didn't he sure as hell was a master at pretending to; something John was eternally grateful for.
The father in Dean was struggling against the boy. He desperately wanted to know how Chris was doing but his dad looked so distraught he didn't want to make matters worse. But Dean's love for his son had matured him more than he consciously realized and the father inside won the internal battle. "He ok?" he asked quietly placing one arm on the counter subconsciously bracing himself for John's reply while the other cradled his still throbbing side.
John lifted his heavy eyes and stared at the pine cabinet in front of him. Staring at nothing was sure as hell a lot easier than staring into Dean's worried filled eyes. He sighed deeply; his voice was rougher than usual "Yeah, he's fine son." He answered while downing another shot. H relished the amber liquid as it warmed his body and soul. "He'll be smartin for a few days but he'll live. I stayed with him until he fell asleep; kid's exhausted."
Dean nodded his head remembering distinctly the aftereffects of a John Winchester smack down and how much one could drain the body physically and emotionally. Chris most definitely needed his sleep now but he'd sure as hell need something stronger when he woke up. Dean added another mental note to his growing list; get make Sammy get Advil for Chris. He allowed a few moments of comfortable silence to pass between the two before he asked the second question weighing heavily on his mind, "What about you?"
"What about me?" John questioned knowingly; a slight hint of irritation entangled in his voice as he swirled shot number three around in his glass. Dean shrugged his shoulders a bit as if he were unsure of whether or not he should continue the conversation but he did so; the boy inside him now surfacing; needing to know the answer. "Are you ok?"
John closed his eyes and dropped his head; feelings of guilt and pride swirling around inside him. Leave it to Dean; always the fucking mother-hen. He just gave his son his first major belting and Dean was still concerned about him; how he was feeling. God if that kid wasn't all Mary inside. The quick side glance he gave Dean just before Sam came busting through the door; Bobby hot on his heels; was all he needed to see. It was crystal clear that John was not alright but he did what he had to do for the good of the family. He always did; regardless of how it felt and Dean knew that they would all get past this and move on; they always did. He placed his hand on his father's shoulder; his trademark way of telling his dad that it was ok and that everything would be alright.
Sam marched past his family giving both his father and brother the death glared as he made his way into the back room to check on Chris. Damn his father and his primitive, medieval ways of discipline; and damn Dean and his blind faith in the man; he should have intervened. Didn't they all have enough shit in their life to deal with? He knocked quietly as he opened the door. The room was dark and cool from the open window and he could hear the shallow breathing of his nephew coming from the far side of the room. As he approached the bed he noticed the moonlight glistening off the wet streaks still visible on the boy's face. He looked much younger than his fourteen years and the sight made Sam's heart ache. He loved his nephew more than words could say and he was trying so hard to keep things as normal as he could for him. He wasn't just his uncle; he was his mentor, his friend and his protector. "Real bang up job you did with that last one Sammy" he thought to himself as he reached out he ran a gentle hand down the back of the kid's head. Chris drew in a shuttering breath at the touch but appeared to be too far gone to be awaken. Drawing the comforter up a little higher Sam gave him one last look-over. He looked to be in one piece and resting comfortably but he'd have to wait until morning before he could be 100% sure. Sam knew the kid practically begged for it but he was still pissed at his Dad; he should have stepped down and let Dean handle the matter. He turned and left the room just as quietly as he entered. The second he left Chris opened his eyes.
The three older men were huddled together on the couch when Sam re-emerged. He shook his head in disbelief at them. "So, what; it's just business as usual then?"
"Sam" Dean said trying to put an end to the conversation before it turned ugly.
"No. Dean. How can you just sit there and pretend like nothing happened?" Sam could see the conflicting look on his brother's face. His eyes were shooting back and fourth between him and his father. Once, just once he wished he'd man up and take a stand against their dad.
But as usual Dean tried to play the peacemaker. "Can we not do this right now?" he practically pleaded. He was in no mood to get into the middle of another one of Sam and Dad's verbal throw-downs and that was exactly where this conversation was headed. "We got bigger fish to fry tonight Sam so put a lid on it; ok? ….Please?"
Sam pressed his lips together and bit his tongue. Dean had been through a lot and Sam respected his brother too much to stress him out any further. He ran a frustrated hand through his hair, gave John one more death stare; that as usual appeared to go unnoticed, and sat down in the chair. "Fine." He ground out reluctantly. "So what's the plan?"
Dean sighed a breath of relief as Bobby leaned in and whispered "Nice goin there Pocahontas." The younger hunter shot him a confused look. Bobby rolled his eyes; Dean was never one for history. "Pocahontas; you know the famous peacemaker?" Dean continued to stare at him with a blank expression. "You know; John Smith??" Still nothing. "Agh forget it boy; just….nice job avertin world war three there." Bobby praised giving up the history lesson. Dean nodded; that he got.
John took the lead explaining his next plan of attack. He had met a young boy named Michael a few days ago whose brother, like the others, had become mysteriously ill. His mother had been practically living at the hospital for the past few days leaving twelve year old Michael alone to keep an eye on the motel. He was an easy, vulnerable target and most likely; based on the Shtriga's pattern; its next victim. It was the perfect trap. John was finally going to kill the bastard once and for all but not all members of the team were on board with his new strategy.
"You wanna use another kid as bait?" Sam yelled completely mortified at the idea. He knew his father's obsession sometimes, well most of the time, trumped his common sense but using another kid? This was going too far; even for John and his youngest was having no part of it. "Have your freakin lost your mind??"
"And here we go again." Bobby said sarcastically as both he and Dean simultaneously rose from the couch to clear the battlefield. "I think that might be a new world's record for the shortage truce ever." He mumbled as he once again found himself heading for shelter out in the kitchen. On his way he continued to mutter; something about apples not falling to far from the tree or two peas in a pod or something along those lines. The boys and John never fully understood or appreciated his idioms'.
Although he didn't want his father and brother at each others throats again; Dean silently appreciated the break and took the opportunity to head towards the bedroom to go check on Chris. It had been over an hour and he wanted to talk to him; he needed to see for himself that his kid was really ok. Meanwhile the argument between the two hot heads in the living room was escalating.
Against his better judgment John allowed himself to be baited by Sam's comment. "You know what boy? I have had it up…to…here with you and your mouth. You better rein it in and do it fast or so help me God.."
"Or what??" Sam shot back. "You'll take a belt to me??? Before his father could answer Dean came flying back into the room; his face was white with fear and his voice shaking with panic.
"Dad! Chris is gone!!!"