May 2010

It was the middle of the night when he awoke, his eyes snapping open and the panic from his nightmare abating. The door to the bedroom opened, and he sat up, looking over to see Lisa still asleep on her side, one arm folded underneath her head. He wished he could sleep that peacefully.

'Uncle Dean?' Little feet padded up to the bed, and without speaking, Dean pulled back the covers and the boy slid in beside him, cuddling up into his chest and clinging to his t-shirt. It had been like this for about three weeks, ever since he'd gotten back, and every night he woke up sweating, panicking, back in the cemetery, and every night, James came in and climbed into bed with him.

Dean wasn't sure which of them was getting more comfort from this.

Lisa was getting annoyed with it. She understood that James was still little, and that both of them had suffered too much, but she was always getting disturbed by James coming in. Luckily she'd had a couple glasses of wine the night before, so tonight wouldn't be one of those nights. And Dean didn't particularly care if she got annoyed with it - it was his job to protect James, and if protecting him from nightmares was the only thing he had to do, then that was what he'd do.

They were lucky no demons had come knocking.

But Dean knew it would happen eventually.

For now, they lived the apple-pie life, the life that was wanted for them. James went to school, Dean went to a nice, normal job welding. He made friends, they went to barbecues, James had sleepovers and everyone bought the lies they told. Since James had gotten here, they'd said he was related to Lisa, but now she'd told everyone that James was actually Dean's son, and he'd been here for protection. Everyone whispered about the mysterious Winchesters, and the Winchester mostly ignored it. The lie was easy enough - James looked so much like his uncle that they passed for father and son anywhere.

'Is he okay?' Lisa's voice startled him, and James' little hands gripped his t-shirt even more. Shit, maybe the wine hadn't knocked her out as much as he thought.

'Yeah. Just another nightmare.'

'Another one?' She leant upwards, concern on her face. 'Dean, have you ever thought about getting him some...you know, professional help?'

Dean didn't want to look at her, didn't want her to see the resentment in his eyes, because she'd been so good to them, taking them in, looking after James for so long, but mentioning that, even suggesting that... 'There's no such thing in our life. He couldn't tell anyone the things he's seen, Lisa.'

She seemed to accept this answer for now, and turned over. Dean stared at the wall opposite the bed, his hand combing gently through James' hair as the boy laid restlessly next to him. After a few moment, he stood up, keeping James in his arms as he turned away from the bed.

'Where are you going?'

'I don't wanna disturb you if he has another one. I'll take him back into his room, okay?' He didn't wait for an answer, and didn't tell her that he wouldn't come back.

The morning came with no more sleep for Dean. When he heard Lisa's alarm go off, he gently roused his sleeping nephew, who yawned widely and rubbed his eyes, looking around and realising he was in his own bed, and that his uncle had stayed with him all night.

'Uncle Dean?'

'Sorry, kiddo. Lisa needed some sleep and I didn't wanna wake her.'

'Does this mean I can't sleep in with you any more?' James asked, sitting up in his bed. Dean shook his head.

'I'll just come sleep in here with you okay?' He smiled reassuringly and the boy nodded, climbing out of the bed, leaving Dean to disentangle himself from the Lightening McQueen sheets. James rushed out of the room, sliding into the bathroom before Ben, who yelled with good humour and waved at Dean. Lisa appeared at the bedroom door, a quizzical look on her face. 'You okay?' She asked as Dean pulled himself from the small single. He nodded, running a hand through his hair.

'Didn't wanna disturb you.' He explained, stretching as he stood. Lisa smiled gently and walked further into the room, slipping her arms around his waist.

'I'm sorry for what I said last night.' She said. 'I know that there's not really anything we could do.' Her head turned as she looked over at the bedroom door, and she lowered her voice. 'He's adjusted pretty well, considering.' Dean nodded distractedly, allowing himself to enjoy the warmth of Lisa's body against his. She reached up on tip toes to plant a kiss on his lips and he smiled, pulling her closer.

'That's gross.' Ben said, leaning against the doorframe and the adults separated, looking guilty.

'Shouldn't you be getting ready for school?' Lisa asked, one hand on her hip. Ben shrugged.

'I will when pint-size is out the bathroom.' He said, and Dean chuckled. Ben had taken to James quicker than even Lisa had, treating him like the little brother he'd never had. 'Do you want me to walk him to school today?' The boy asked, folding his arms, and Lisa shook her head.

'No. Dean needs to take him in. It's parent-teacher day isn't it?'

Dean cursed under his breath. He'd forgotten all about it. Lisa had taken care of the initial settling in period, and James was doing okay at school. But since he'd taken up the role of "Dad", it was his job to deal with the school stuff. And he hated it, but knew it was necessary. He smiled tightly. 'Yeah, it is. I got the day off from the site.'

'It'll be good for both of you to spend a day together.' She said. 'Take him to the park or something. He can't spend his whole life in his bedroom.'

'No, I know.' Dean muttered, kissing her on the forehead. 'I'll get something in for dinner tonight, how's that sound?'

'Ooo, can we have chinese food?' Ben asked excitedly, as the bathroom door opened behind him. 'Please?' He darted past James, who was still yawning as he came back into his bedroom. Lisa let out a little laugh and Dean shrugged.

'Chinese food sounds pretty awesome to me.' He said, moving away from Lisa and to the chest of drawers. He busied himself pulling out clothes for James, who watched with sleepy eyes. Lisa ruffled his hair as she walked past, and James smiled up at her.

'What do you want for breakfast, champ? Cereal okay?' James nodded and she smiled back, leaving Dean to get James ready for school.

'Did you brush your teeth?' Dean asked, handing James some clean pants and a t-shirt. James nodded, holding the clothes gingerly. They were ones Lisa had brought for him, and he liked them, he did, but he missed the ones his mom picked out. Dean noticed him just standing there and frowned. 'What's wrong?'

'Can I wear the plaid one today?' He asked, and Dean looked back down to the open drawer, dragging the shirt out. It was the one he'd been wearing when his uncle had first brought him here, and his hand reached out to touch it, noticing the blood stain on the collar. He'd been wearing this when he'd killed the demon girl in Blue Earth. 'I like that one.'

Dean pulled the shirt out, wondering why Lisa had bothered to put it back in the drawer. It had been washed, but even Dean knew that bloodstains didn't come out easily. It was a barely noticeable stain, on the corner of the collar, but he knew it was there, and couldn't risk sending James to school in a shirt that had blood on it. 'Not today, buddy.'

James' face fell and he nodded slowly. 'Okay.'

'Get dressed yeah? I'll see you downstairs.' Dean laid a hand on the boy's shoulder quickly, before moving through the house into his and Lisa's room to get dressed himself. He pulled out a pair of jeans and a plain button-down, running a hand through his messy hair. After a quick stop in the bathroom to brush his teeth and relieve himself, he joined the rest of the family downstairs, watching Ben and James discuss cartoons over their cereal. James was still into a lot of the kiddy cartoons, and Ben was trying to get him into better things, but Dean didn't understand half of the crap they talked about, and brief eye contact with Lisa indicated that she didn't have a clue either.

'You know that Batman is so much cooler than Wolverine right?'

'Wolverine has claws.' James pointed out, the only way a five-year-old could. Ben rolled his eyes at the juvenile argument.

'Yeah but Batman is like, a regular guy, and he became a hero.'

'Uncle Dean is a hero.' Dean choked on his coffee, frowning up at James. 'He was just like Batman.'

Ben looked over at Dean sceptically. 'I know that, but Dean doesn't wear a cape.'

'He'd look awesome in one though.'

Lisa was giggling at this point, and Dean just stared, wondering where this conversation was going to go. Ben shook his head. 'Dean would look like a giant dork in a cape. Only Batman and Superman can pull off the caped look.'

'What about Magneto?' James asked, running a single Cheerio round his bowl, not looking up at the other boy, who tilted his head, considering the point.

'Magneto isn't a hero though. He's the bad guy.'

James nodded, still staring into his bowl. Dean watched the boy's blue eyes mist over a little. 'I don't like bad guys.' He said quietly, and Dean put his coffee cup down, deciding he didn't like where this conversation was going. He stood from the stool, walking around the counter to Lisa, who handed him James' Cars backpack with a sympathetic smile.

'You'd better get a move on.' She said. 'His lunch is in there. Hopefully he'll actually eat it today.' The comment didn't go unnoticed and Dean smiled tightly, giving her a quick peck on the cheek. 'I'll see you this afternoon?' He nodded, turning and hoisting James off of his seat.

'Let's get going, kiddo.'

'Uncle Dean?' James slipped his hand into Dean's. 'Can we drive the 'Pala to school today?' Dean paused, looking down at him.

'Nah, we're gonna take the truck.'

'I don't like the truck.'

'Baby is out of commission, James. You know that.' Dean's tone indicated that it was the end of the topic and James sighed sadly. He missed the car, and Dean did too, but the reminder of sitting in her would be too much, too many empty seats. And he wasn't sure he could handle that today. As they left the house, James didn't speak again and Dean picked him up, lifting him into the passenger seat of the truck and securing his seat belt.

'Dean?'

'Yeah, kiddo?'

'Will you ever drive Baby again?' His nephew didn't look at him as he asked, and Dean sighed, leaning down to kiss the top of the boy's head.

'Maybe one day.'

'I don't know if you're aware of this, Mr Winchester, but James is an exceptionally bright boy. He's ahead of most of his classmates, which is surprising since we started him a year ahead of where he should be.' The woman teacher droned on, and Dean was trying to listen, but his eyes were scanning over the paperwork in front of him, describing James' schoolwork and behaviour. He was an exceptional student, if a little quiet, and Dean smiled a little, wondering how much of it came from Sammy. 'Have you considered aptitude testing? He may be better off in a special school for those who are exceptionally gifted.'

'A special school?' Dean looked up sharply.

'They do scholarships now. He's got enormous potential.'

'Why would he need a special school?'

The teacher suddenly realised that most of what he'd said had gone unheard. 'A boy in James' position, can often feel like a social outcast. We know he was homeschooled by his mother and yourself, and he has adjusted incredibly well considering what has...er...happened.' Dean tried not to scoff. You mean, the lies we told you, that you swallowed hook, line and sinker? 'But he doesn't seem to be making many friends here. There are one or two children he has associated with, but he spends a lot of his time writing and reading.'

'Takes after Sammy.' Dean said without thinking, and upon the quizzical look, he shrugged. 'My brother. He went to Stanford.' He let the pride seep through his tone, because dammit, he had been proud of Sam. Maybe the road he'd taken hadn't been the one that lead to success, but Dean would always be proud of his little brother.

'Does your brother have any input in the family life?'

'He's dead.' Dean replied bluntly, and the woman paled.

'Oh. There has been a lot of loss, hasn't there?' The former hunter's face was closed off, but the teacher didn't take any hint from that. 'Has he been...seeing anyone? A grief counsellor perhaps?'

'No.' Dean sighed. What's he supposed to tell them? I'm five and I've killed creatures, watched my mom and uncles fight demons and monsters, oh and this one time I accidentally killed a guy who shot my mom dead, and then she got possessed by some douchebag archangel? By the way, she's in Hell now. 'We work through it as a family. James knows that if he needs to talk, he can talk to me.'

'I don't mean any offence by this, Mr Winchester, but sometimes we think children know that but in reality they don't want to talk to their parents.' The woman's face was a mask of sympathy and Dean wanted to punch her. He clenched his fists under the desk, his eyes drifting over to the window. The kids were all in the playground, and James was sitting on top of the jungle gym, just watching the other children play.

I'm not his dad. Dean wanted to say. His dad took off. I'm just his uncle. Just a genetic donor. I have no clue what I'm doing. 'James does. He talks to me about everything. He doesn't need a counsellor.'

The woman nodded, suddenly understanding that the subject wasn't being well received. 'Maybe you could enrol him in some after school projects. Extra-curricular activities can do wonders for children who have the talents James has.'

Dean nodded, very much done with this meeting. He looked down at the papers. 'So he's a straight A student, heading straight for Yale or whatever?'

The teacher frowned, her eyes clearly searching his face for any sign that Dean knew what he was talking about. He was the first to admit he didn't have the smarts his siblings had, but he wasn't stupid, and he knew that James was incredibly intelligent. If Dean could keep him safe, he knew the boy would go far. Keep him out of the life, away from the demons and the damn angels.

He stood, offering his hand to the woman, who accepted it, rising from behind her desk. She was still staring at him, analysing the similarities between the two. She assumed James' mother had the same vivid blue eyes that the boy had, because Dean Winchester's eyes were a striking shade of green. 'Oh, one more thing. The children are doing a project, on their family trees. It is due to be handed in next week. Due to the...delicate nature of what has happened with your...erm...family, we thought it best to make you aware. James doesn't have to do it if it upsets him.'

Dean levelled her with a look, and she shuddered a little under the intensity of his gaze. Whoever James' mother had been, she was one lucky woman if this handsome specimen had been hers. She could see James being the same type of man when he grew up. 'No. He'll do the project. I'll help him with it.'

'Oh. Good. We'll be sending the worksheets home with them this afternoon.'

He drove around for hours after the meeting with James' teacher, just waiting for school to finish. Normally on weekdays he would be at work, able to distract himself with mindless tasks, keeping his thoughts simple and away from anything too stressful. But today he couldn't keep his mind off of Alex and Sam. He was blaming himself, he knew that, and the only thing keeping him sane in this mundane life was James. He had to protect him, keep him safe, away from the hell they'd lived through for nearly thirty years. The boy never mentioned hunting, barely talked about it, but he talked about his mom.

Dean remembered the things Cas had stuck in his head. He remembered watching Alex struggle through sleepless nights, endless diaper changes. He remembered watching her be so happy when James said his first word, took his first steps. It broke him sometimes, having these memories, only watching and never being a part of it. Half of it was the fact that Dean hadn't been there himself; the rest of it was the fact he could sense how proud and happy Cas had been, but he could only watch.

The last memory was the one playing on his mind then. Cas had been watching that whole night. He'd watched the demon break the protection on the house, but he hadn't done anything, because he knew the boys were out the front in the Impala, about to make their move. And the angel had done the next best thing; he'd taken up post in James' room; watching, waiting. If anything got past the Winchesters', he would have been there.

How the angel hadn't seen his own dedication astounded him.

How Dean hadn't seen how much his sister and nephew were loved astounded him more.

His phone went off, and he flicked it open, reading the text. It was from Bobby, a simple hope you're okay. He hadn't spoken to the aged hunter in a while, mainly because if Bobby so much as made a hint that there was a hunt needing doing, Dean couldn't guarantee that he wouldn't go. The feeling of not being out there, hunting things, saving people...goddamn the family business. He had a family now, one that he needed to protect.

He fired off a reply, promising to himself that he would take James over to see his grandpa at some point. James missed the old man, Dean knew that, but he also knew that he had to keep James away from that life, and Bobby was unfortunately included in it.

The clock mocked him. He had another half hour before James would get out of school. And he'd driven around the town six or seven times. He made one more pass, then headed back to the school, pulling the truck up to the kerb. He turned the engine off and sank into his seat, watching the entrance.

He'd just wait there.

'You've seen him right? He's living with Lisa.'

The whispers weren't so much whispers as Dean stood in the playground, surrounded by what seemed like thousands of soccer moms. And he was the hot topic of conversation. He didn't pick James up much for this reason.

'She's one lucky gal. He's hot.'

'Yeah, but he's got that kid as well don't forget. The one she took in.'

'He's not so bad. My Dylan just says he's quiet. Smart though.'

'Isn't he a year ahead or something?'

'Wonder if Mr Smokin' Hot has the same brains.'

'He doesn't look the type.'

Dean rolled his eyes, folding his arms and wishing the school bell would ring, right now.

'I heard he's ex-FBI. That the boy was sent here to keep him safe from the mob or something. And that was what got the mom killed.'

'Considering how quick he's moved on to Lisa, he must be some kinda jerk.'

'I heard that he's not even really the kid's dad.'

'Seriously? Have you seen James Winchester? He's the spitting image. No way they aren't related.'

'And the eyes? Amelia told me she thinks they're the bluest blue to ever blue. She's seven!'

The school bell finally rang, and Dean's shoulder sagged. His jaw was clenched so tightly, that he thought he might break his teeth. When James appeared in the doorway, dragging his Cars backpack behind him, he whistled loudly, and every woman in the school yard looked at him. James looked up, a bright smile breaking across his face. I'll give you something to fucking gossip about. Dean thought as he held out his arms. As if on cue, the boy took off into a run, launching himself at his uncle and burying his face in his neck.

'Hey, kiddo.' He said, practically feeling the "awwwww's" coming from the moms around him. 'How was school?'

'We've got a project to do, Dad.' James smiled, playing his part perfectly. As weird as it was to hear his nephew call him dad, he always felt a small amount of pride in it. The fact that for all intents and purposes, this boy was his.

'So I heard.' He grinned, standing straight, ignoring the swooning mothers and taking James' hand. 'How about ice cream?'

The two Winchesters headed for the gate, and Dean grinned as he heard one last whisper.

'He could be a serial killer for all I care; just look at that ass!'

'You wouldn't believe what I overheard in the supermarket today.' Lisa said, lowering herself down onto the couch beside Dean. Both Ben and James were in bed, and the adults were relaxing with a glass of wine, or rather, a fifth of whiskey for Dean. He raised an eyebrow as she settled into the crook of his shoulder, resting her forehead against his chin.

'What's that?'

'Some very interesting rumours about you.'

'Yeah, I heard a few as well.' He muttered, sinking the whiskey back with a grimace. 'Some of the soccer moms at the school were "speculating".'

'So you've heard the one about you being ex-FBI? That James is in witness protection?' Lisa chuckled, reaching forward to pick up her wine glass. Dean harrumphed in the back of his throat and she laughed harder. 'You know these people have nothing better to do right?' He nodded, and she sipped at her wine, one finger absently trailing a path up and down his leg. 'How did the meeting go?'

'Really well. For what I paid attention to.' He smirked and she tapped him lightly, replacing her glass on the table. 'No, the reports were all good. He's a straight A student. But he's always been smart. Got Sam's -' Dean winced, and Lisa stilled for a moment, unsure of how to proceed. He smiled tightly. 'He's really smart is all.'

'You can talk about them, you know.' Lisa said quietly. 'I don't mind.'

'I do.' He said gruffly. 'It's...it's too painful.' His hand came up to caress her arm. 'Maybe someday.'

'James talks about his mom all the time.' She said, laying her cheek to his chest. 'He misses her. I know you must miss her too.' Dean nodded, holding his breath, trying to contain the tsunami of emotion in his chest. He hadn't cried...not since that first day. He refused to cry. Showing weakness was not an option, even if Lisa thought it was healthy. He felt her shoulders relax and hoped she would drop the subject.

The television was on in front of them and he tried to focus on the crap film showing. An ad break started, a local advertisement for a summer fair reminding him of the date. 'Shit.' He swore lightly. Lisa sat up, concern on her face.

'What is it?'

'It's James' birthday in like, three weeks.' He rubbed a hand over his face. 'I forgot. I've never been good with birthdays.'

Lisa smiled. 'It's okay. We'll sort something. Maybe have a little party or something. Invite some of his friends?'

'From what I understand he doesn't have many.' Dean thought for a moment as Lisa relaxed back into the position she'd been in. He absently stroked over her hair, feeling his eyes drift shut. Another thing he couldn't get used to - regular sleep. He slept maybe three hours, always waking up after either he or James had a nightmare, and spending the rest of the night awake and staring at the ceiling. 'Maybe we could just have a little family thing. Your mom and sister liked James.'

'Yeah.' Lisa yawned. 'Mom said he was a little angel.'

Dean tried not to tense at that. He really tried.

June 2010

James' birthday was a quiet affair, just Lisa's parents popping in. Bobby sent a package, containing all the toy cars that James had left at the house, and Dean had allowed him to call his grandpa for a while. It had made him happy to see James light up telling Bobby all about his school work and the other presents Lisa had gotten him. She'd bought paint for his bedroom, so they could changed it from looking like a guestroom to actually being his room. He'd also gotten a new games console from Dean, to replace the one that had been left behind, and Ben had supplied games. Lisa's parents had provided clothes and some other educational things, since they'd heard about his progress in school.

When it got to the evening, and Dean had gone up to check on the boys, he found Ben alone, playing on the games console in James' room. 'Where's James?'

Ben looked up, frowning. 'He went to the bathroom. But that was like, twenty minutes ago.' Dean tried to ignore the icy grip of panic that seized him. He'd stopped with the salt lines, and there were no devil's traps around the house any more, purely to stop Lisa freaking out. He turned, instructing Ben to stay put whilst he checked the upstairs rooms and found no sign. Heading back downstairs, Lisa was in the kitchen, putting away the cakes and sweets left over from the birthday celebrations. She looked up, frowning at Dean's panicked expression.

'What's wrong?'

'James isn't upstairs.' He said quickly, not looking at her as he ran from room to room, calling the boy.

'What?' She said, and Dean didn't reply as he threw the front door open, running out into the yard.

'James!' He yelled, feeling sick with worry. 'James!'

The cool night air mocked him, and he doubled over, his breath coming in short bursts as he felt the anxiety grip him hard. Lisa appeared next to him, rubbing a hand over his back. 'Dean, calm down, we'll find him.'

'No, no, you don't get it, he's...'

'He's up there.' Lisa said, distractedly. Dean was upright in a split second, following her gaze. Sure enough, on the first floor roof, sat with his knees pulled up to his chest, staring up at the sky, was James. Dean felt his knees go weak as he bolted back into the house, taking the stairs three at a time, not even registering Lisa shut and lock the front door. He was out on the roof in record time, pulling James to him and holding him tightly.

'Don't ever scare me like that again.'

'I'm sorry.' James whispered, and Dean pulled back, looking down into his nephew's bright blue eyes. 'I didn't mean to scare you.'

'Why are you out here?'

'Mom liked the roof. And I wanted to see the star. But it's gone. I can never see it any more.' James looked away, and Dean saw the tear tracks on his face, the paleness of his skin.

'The star?' He questioned and James shrugged, climbing into his uncle's lap.

'Cas gave me a star for my birthday last year.' The use of the angel's nickname made Dean's stomach drop. 'He said I'd always be able to find him or mom. But he lied.' James burrowed his face into Dean's shirt. 'He lied to me. And mom lied to me. Told me she'd come back.' Dean didn't quite know what to say, but James wasn't finished. 'I wish you were my real dad, Dean. Cos you've never left me or lied to me.'

Oh I have, kiddo. I have. You just don't realise it. He pulled his arms around the boy, leaning back against the wall as James dissolved into tears. He felt the salty moisture coating his shirt, and squeezed his own eyes shut. After long moments, James pulled away sniffling.

'You're not gonna leave me like them, right?'

Dean stared at him. 'Of course I'm not leaving you. But you know they didn't have a choice right?'

James shrugged. 'Doesn't matter. They still left.' His eyes narrowed. 'And he had a choice. He left me to you, right? I know he's still out there. But he never answers my prayers.'

Something inside the older Winchester snapped, and he felt so bad for the child, and so damn angry at Castiel. It was all well and good wanting his son to be safe, but not even explaining it to him, and leaving it to Dean, who was usually useless at explaining anything, was something he might never forgive him for. He pulled James close to him again. 'Don't think like that, James.'

'Why not?' The boy replied, letting his uncle hug him. 'Why can't you be my dad? Why does it just have to be pretend at school?' The way he was talking, he sounded older than his six years, older than even Ben. Hell, he sounded older than Dean. 'Why can't it be that easy? I don't understand!' He started to cry again. Dean ran a hand through his nephew's hair, wishing along with him that it was that easy, that he could just snap his fingers and make the last two years of James' life something other than what it was.

But he couldn't. All he could do was tell him the truth.

'I don't know, kiddo. I don't know.'