Author's Note: I want to thank ZBgirl for the suggestions for this chapter. I loved your review, and you really got me to think about how John would handle this situation. Thanks again.
Also, thank you for all of the kind reviews. I'm glad that you are enjoying the story.
Chapter 12
Dean followed his dad out of the door and onto the front porch. He watched as his dad leaned against the railing and waited to see what he would say. He stood quietly, and watched his father take several deep breaths. He could tell that John wanted to say something, but didn't seem to know how to begin. Finally, he said, "So you don't do homework?"
Dean glanced up at his dad before answering, and finally said, "No, Sir, not usually."
"Is there a good reason for not doing your homework?"
"I don't know, Dad. There is just always so much to do between training, and chores, and taking care of Sammy and Kellie. It just didn't really seem all that important before. My grades weren't the best, but there were passing, and that's all that I really cared about."
John knew that Dean would be completely honest with him before he ever even asked the next question, however, it was a question that needed asking. "Dean, do I make things too hard for you; expect too much?"
Dean hesitated before answering his dad's question. Finally, he looked straight into the eyes of his father and replied, "Dad, there are times that it feels like it's too much. I miss you when you're gone, and I get tired of always being in charge. Sometimes, I just want to be a normal kid; you know, play sports and things like that. Then, I remember what you're doing, saving lives and hunting monsters, and I know it's selfish of me to want that normal life. What you do is important; you're a superhero, Dad. This world needs you!"
John couldn't believe what had just come out of his son's mouth—a superhero? He never thought of himself as anything but a grieving father on a mission of revenge. He knew that this was no life for children, but what choice did he have? To hear Dean call him a superhero was almost more than John could imagine. This was going to make what he was about to do that much harder.
Finally, John looked at Dean and sternly said, "Drop your jeans, Son."
Dean fully expected what he heard his dad say, but he couldn't help but let out a final plea for mercy. "Dad, please, no."
John looked squarely at Dean and said, "Dean, now!"
"Yes, Sir. Where do you want me?" Dean knew better than to question his father any further. He didn't know why his dad was always so swift to justice, but he admired and respected him for it.
"Over the hood of the car will be fine."
"Yes, Sir." Dean walked to the front of the Impala. He slowly unbuckled his buckle and unzipped and lowered his jeans. He then slowly laid himself across the hood of the car with his head resting in his arms. He waited as his father slowly walked across the yard and positioned himself behind him. He anticipated the whoosh of the belt as it left his father's loops, but so far it had yet to happen.
Finally, Dean heard his father say, "He really did a job on you, didn't he?"
"Yes, Sir," Dean said while looking at his feet between his arms.
"Looks painful."
"Yes, Sir."
"Left quite a few marks."
"Yes, Sir."
"Alright Dean, get dressed."
Dean heard his father turn around and head back toward the porch. He quickly stood up and readjusted his clothing. He looked at the back of his retreating father, and felt a new admiration for this man that he so respected. His father was not only a man of justice, but also a man of mercy. He leaned against the car and tried to brand this picture of his dad in his mind. He so rarely saw this side of him anymore. There were faint memories of the gentle and caring father that was the man before his wife burned on the ceiling. Memories of being carried in the arms of John Winchester, of bedtime stories being told to Dean, and of playing and being tickled by his dad, haunted Dean's mind. He rarely thought of these memories anymore because they only led to sadness and longing for a life that was to never be, for a mom who would never live again, and for a dad that had long since transformed into a man with a relentless drive for justice.
Finally, Dean heard his father say, "You going to stay out there all night?"
"Uh, No Sir," Dean replied as he walked toward the porch and his motionless father. As he stood at the bottom of the steps, he looked up at his father, and quietly said, "Thank you, Dad."
His dad, not really knowing how to respond to him, simply nodded his head in Dean's direction. Finally, after a couple of seconds of awkward silence, John shifted his weight to the other leg and looked steadily at his first-born. "Dean, this is important. You have to take this seriously. Son, you cannot provoke this thing; you cannot get in any trouble in that school again. You are walking on thin ice already. I have to have time to research this jerk, and prepare our plan of action. Do you hear what I'm saying?"
"Yeah, Dad. You know I will."
"Dean, for all we know, this thing may draw boys into its web, enticing them or encouraging them into defiance. We just don't know enough about it at this point. You must be vigilant and strong. You must not be lulled into a false sense of security. Son, I would tan your hide every day if I thought that it would help keep you safe. I can't lose you."
"Yes, Sir. I'll do my very best; I promise."
"I know you will, Son. You've never let me down. Just remember, I'm proud of the man that you are becoming, and I will do everything in my power to keep you safe and secure."
"Thank you, Dad."
"Alright Son, enough chick flick moments. Let's go inside and make a list of potential suspects to keep our eyes on for the next few days."
