Chapter 37

AN Enjoy. :)

Dean's POV

After we all finished eating Tony made me go change into my pajamas, and then he finally let me downstairs again.

"Why did I have to go change?" I ask, annoyed.

"Because, you do this thing where you fall asleep and then I have to put you into your pajamas and put you to bed, and I figured we could get a jump on the pj thing before you fall asleep this time." Tony tells me, his eyes sparkling in amusement.

I should be more angry than I am, knowing what I know, that he doesn't actually come back for me and Sammy, but I can't help but enjoy the time with him.

The last few months before he left he seemed weighed down, he didn't smile and laugh nearly as much as he usually does, and even when he does now it's faked and forced.

I thought he would pick up the phone, Tony had never broken a promise before then, he made sure that if he said he would do something, that he did it. I was pissed, but most of all I was hurt, he left me, and he didn't even have the decency to make sure that we were alright without him, for all he knew I could have started a fire and burned down our motel, I could have forgotten to pick Sammy up from school or not paid enough attention and gotten us killed by a monster.

I wanted him to come back, to me and Sammy, 'cause I don't know how to take care of me, let alone me and Sammy, no matter how much I wanted it to seem like I could, I was floundering, left in the lurch with no way to catch up before I messed up.

And I have, it's been two months, and I have fucked up so many times, it isn't even funny. I'm scared that one day i'm going to mess up and Sammy is going to get hurt, that i'll do what I do best and fuck up, and it will come back to bite Sammy on the ass.

Two months and i'm still unsure about what foods to buy at the store, or what laundry detergent we should use, I still suck at trying to make the money we do have last, and what to spend it on so that Sammy doesn't end up going hungry. Which I haven't let happen, no matter how many nights I did, it doesn't matter, because Sammy was fed, and he was clean, and he got to school everyday.

He might not be happy, and he might miss Tony, who is essentially his dad, but he is safe, and he has a full belly at night, and that's the best I can do for him, I can sing him to sleep and I can rock him in my lap when he has nightmares, but I will still never be Tony, I will never be able to raise him like Tony raised me.

I can talk to him when he cries because he misses T, I can punch his bully square in the jaw, and I can take him to the park. I can try my best to do everything that Tony did for us, for me, but I will never measure up, I will never be able to fill his shoes.

I look up then, and I see Tony grinning with Gibbs and Tim next to him, Tim laughing at Tony's joke and fond exasperation shining in Gibbs's eyes, and it's the happiest i've seen him since 3 months before he left.

I feel the familiar anger wash through me, quickly followed by hurt and loneliness, and I bring my hand up to rub at the ball of tension that sits in my chest, the ball that's been there for two months and only loosens and tightens, but never fully unraveling.

I watch as Tony interacts with his new family, and the ball grows tighter, because it hurts, to see him so happy when I know that the only way he got here was for me and Sammy to suffer, he worked to get here, happy and content, while I stayed in shitty motels, and I sung Sammy to sleep and then cried myself to sleep, wishing with everything inside of me that he would pick up the goddamn phone so that I could beg him to come home, so that I didn't have to do this anymore, because it was crushing me, and I didn't want the responsibility, because I am so scared that I am going to fuck Sammy up so badly nobody will be able to fix it, because that's what I do, I fuck things up, and I try to fix them, but I always make it worse.

Today, I tried to be angry, I tried to hate Tony, but everytime I look at him, all I can see is every time he picked me up and dusted me off, every time he told me it would be alright, every time he sung me happy birthday because dad wasn't there, every time he defended me at school, every time he was there for me, ever since I can remember, from before mom died and out lives went sideways, Tony has always been there for me.

And I can't bring myself to hate him, and all I feel is relief, because Tony is here, and he always takes half the weight from me, and he makes me laugh, and he takes care of me, like I know that dad should have.

I missed him, more than I hated him for leaving, more than I resented him breaking his promise, more than I hated seeing every single tear roll down Sammy's face because he missed his T.

I missed him, and i'm I am so fucking angry at myself for how easily I let my anger go, how quickly I forgot about the anxiety and the tears, all because he was here again and he was taking care of me.

All because he is my brother and my parent, and he didn't have to be, he could have said fuck it and let us all fend for ourselves, he could have said he wasn't capable of being a parent to a fuck up and a baby, but he didn't, and I hate him for it, because it would be so easy to reject him, to loathe him, if he wasn't the person that he is, if he didn't put everything he had into being there for me and Sammy, I could hate him like I want to.

Instead I have only myself to blame, I should have realised sooner that he didn't plan to stick around, that he wanted to go live his own life, and he couldn't drag me and Sammy along, I should have known what was coming, and I should have been prepared for it, everyone always leaves me anyway, I shouldn't have foolishly believed that Tony would be any different.

Mom left me, Dad checked out in the parenting department, even if he still gave us money and showed up every couple weeks to move us and find a new hunt. Tony left me, and the only reason that Sammy hasn't left me is because he's too young to do it, he's too young to understand that he should follow behind everyone else and bail, that there is something inside me that makes people leave, and that he needs to leave too.

It's only a matter of time, but until then, I can keep him safe, and I can try to make him happy, and when he leaves, i'll expect it, and maybe it won't hurt as much as the ones before him.

I feel my lips tugging down into a frown as my mind pulls back and forth, hating Tony, understanding Tony, missing Tony. Feeling bad for myself, hating myself. Back and forth, unsure who to blame for the feelings, for the anger and the pain, was it my fault? Or his?

I draw in a hiss of air as the sting of missing skin jarrs me, and I look down to see that I had unknowingly pulled off a piece of skin against my nail while I was thinking, and I squeeze my finger, watching the blood pool on my skin, bringing it to my lips after a moment and keeping it there as I waited for the metallic taste to fade from my mouth before I withdraw my finger.

I flinch slightly when I feel a weight dip the couch i'm sitting on, looking over to see Tony sitting next to me with a band-aid in his hands, and concern etched into his features.

I watch as he pulls my hand away from my mouth and dries it with a paper towel, spraying antiseptic on the cut that's deeper than I thought, he dries that from around the cut as well before before wrapping the bandage around my thumb, a frown settling onto his face.

And as I lay in bed that night, I decide, it's not Tony. Tony is here, and he's still fixing things that I break, even my own skin, and he cares about me, and yet I still make him frown, when moment's before he was grinning and laughing with his new family, his real family.

As I drifted off into oblivion that night, it was with those thought's still floating through my mind, but I had the peace of knowing who was to blame, and it wasn't Tony.

AN Thoughts? Good? Bad? Meh? Lemme know what you think. :)