Raising Winchesters

Chapter 39

Recap: When they were almost through with dinner, John suddenly stood up from the table. All eyes moved over to him, but the man just threw his napkin down on his plate and grabbed his jacket. "Sam, when you're done eating, go on up and take a bath. Dean, help Jim and Bobby with the dishes. When you're done, grab a shower and then hit the rack. We're moving out in the morning."

Both Sam and Dean looked at their father with tear-filled eyes. And Sam immediately started pouting. "I don't wanna leave, Daddy. Pastor Jim was going to help me with my book report."

John glared at his youngest. "We're leaving. Dean, make sure your brother does what he's told."

"Yes, sir," Dean answered quietly.

Without another word, John turned and left the house. Dean stood up and started clearing the dishes off the table.

Once Dean finished cleaning up the kitchen, he turned and went upstairs. Pastor Jim and Bobby were sitting in the living room, quietly discussing things that Dean knew he wasn't supposed to hear.

Entering the bedroom he shared with his little brother, he was surprised to see Sam sitting on the bed. "What are you doing, Sam? You're supposed to be taking a bath, remember?"

"I don't wanna take a bath," Sam answered grumpily.

"Dad told you to," Dean answered, as if it were as simple as that.

"I don't care, Dean. He's a big fat meanie-head."

Dean quickly looked over to the door as if he expected their dad to be standing there. "Don't say that, Sam," he whispered loudly. "What if Dad heard you?"

"I don't care. I'm mad at Daddy, Dean. I don't wanna leave tomorrow."

"I don't either, Sammy, but we have to."

"No, we don't. We can hide from Daddy, Dean. If he doesn't know where we are, he can't take us with him."

"And what? You think he's gonna go without us, Sammy? Because he won't. He'll just stay and look for us and then he'll be really, really mad when he finds us."

"I don't wanna leave," Sam repeated sadly.

Dean climbed up on the bed next to his brother. "It'll be okay. We knew we weren't going to stay here forever, right?" When Sam nodded his head, Dean continued. "Okay, then… you go take a bath and I'll start packing up."

Dean watched as Sam grabbed his pajamas and walked out of the room. Once he heard the water filling the tub, he looked around the room. Sam's stuff was scattered everywhere, but he didn't waste any more time. With tears in his eyes, he grabbed the two duffles under the bed and started packing everything away.

It was almost two in the morning when Dean woke up to the sound of loud voices coming from downstairs. He could hear his dad's voice above the others and could tell that the man was angry. Looking over at the small form in the bed next to him, he made sure his brother was still sleeping before climbing out of the bed and making his way quietly to the door.

Dean made his way over to the staircase and sat down on the top stair. He could still hear the voices of the three men, easily making out his father's words, but not the voices of Pastor Jim and Bobby. Taking a deep breath, he slowly made his way down the stairs, stopping at the very bottom. He knew he'd be in big trouble if his dad found out he was eavesdropping, but he didn't care. He really wanted to know what the three men were arguing about.

"I just don't think it's a good idea to take the boys right now, John. That's all I'm saying." Jim's voice, though quiet, was angrier than Dean had ever heard it.

"I know you don't think it is, Jim, but it's my decision to make. And I think it's time to get back to it."

"Dean's not ready," Bobby answered, matter-of-factly.

"And you think he's going to get ready just sitting around here? Is that it? He just needs some time?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying, Winchester," Bobby roared. "It's been barely a week since the kid killed a woman. It's going to take more time than that to get over it!"

"It's been barely a week since he killed a monster, Singer. She was a witch that was trying her best to get revenge on me. She wasn't going to stop until she was dead and you know it."

"You're right. I do know it. That doesn't change the fact that your kid- who's not even a teenager yet, by the way- had to shoot someone, John. He shouldn't be worrying about anything more than homework and what he's going to be eating for dinner. Most kids his age have never even held a gun in their hand, let alone fired it at someone."

"He didn't fire it at someone, he fired it at a monster. How many times do I have to repeat that?!"

"And how many times do I have to repeat that it doesn't matter. She looked like a woman, John. She didn't look like a monster."

Before John could answer, Jim stepped in between them. "Stop!" he yelled loudly. "Stop. We're never going to get anywhere if we just keep saying the same things over and over again."

Bobby took a step back, knowing that there was no way John was going to back down. Once there were a few feet between the two men, Jim continued. "John, I understand what you're saying. Bobby and I know that Dean isn't like other kids his age. We know that he can handle things far beyond what other kids his age can handle. Probably more than what some older hunters can even handle, to be honest. But, he's not handling this, John. He's not ready to just get on with things. He's having a hard time."

"He's fine," John growled.

"He's not fine, John," Jim answered quietly. "He's barely eating. He's having nightmares. He can't even look at a gun without starting to tremble. He's not okay."

"But he will be. Dean knows how we handle things like this. He knows he has to get back at it, Jim. He knows what's expected of him."

"Well, what's expected of him, shouldn't be expected of him. Your expectations on this are too much, John."

John ran a hand through his hair and then down is face. "What do you think I should do, then, huh? You think I should just let him go on being scared? Maybe I should take him to a therapist so he can work out his problems? Or maybe I should just leave him here. Is that what you want?"

All three men were completely surprised when the subject of their conversation suddenly shot into the room.

"No!" Dean yelled. "No, Dad. You can't leave me here. I want to go with you! Please don't leave me. I promise I'll do better. I promise, Dad!"

"Dean? What are you doing out of bed?"

"I heard you talking. I heard what you said, Dad. You can't leave me here!"

John took several steps forward, stopping right in front of his son. "Don't tell me what I can't do, boy," he growled. "None of this is up to you."

Bobby and Jim watched as Dean shrunk into himself. "John…" Jim tried, but John completely ignored him.

"Go to bed!" he ordered his son, pointing towards the staircase.

By this time, though, Dean had worked himself up into a mess. "Dad, please…. I promise I'll do better. You'll see. Let's go to the range right now. I'll show you, Dad. I'll show you."

"I said go to bed, Dean!" When Dean didn't move, John reached out and grabbed him by the arm. Jim and Bobby both moved to stop him, but John just continued to drag his son from the room. By the time they were up the stairs, Dean's arm was hurting from his dad's grasp.

"When I tell you to do something, you do it, boy? You hear me?" When Dean didn't answer, John stopped, turned his son to the side, and brought his hand crashing down against his backside. "I'm sick and tired of your disrespect, Dean. I've had enough of it."

His hand stopped falling long enough for him to grab his belt buckle and undo it. By this time, Jim and Bobby were up the stairs, too, and they both moved forward to stop what was happening. John didn't even seem to notice that they were there, so he was surprised when the hand holding his belt was suddenly wrenched backwards and held tightly against his back. He fought back, but the hold on him was too strong.

"Get the hell off me!" he ordered.

"Not until you let go of Dean," Bobby answered.

John suddenly shook his head, as if trying to shake himself out of whatever fugue he was in. He looked down at the hand that was holding onto Dean's arm so tightly and suddenly let go, as if something had burned him. As soon as he did that, Dean turned and ran into the bedroom where Sam was now sitting up on the bed, crying. Without a single look backwards, Dean jumped onto the bed and pulled Sam to him, grasping him so tight that the poor kid could barely breathe.

"Dean! What's wrong?" He asked breathlessly.

"Nothing. It's okay, Sammy," Dean answered, still holding the kid tightly. His eyes were scrunched up tightly, too, and he kept his back turned away from the door. They stayed like that for several long minutes until Dean felt someone's hand slowly rubbing his back.

"Hey, kiddo… You okay?"

Dean turned his head to see his Uncle Bobby standing next to the bed. He couldn't bring himself to answer, so he just nodded his head.

"Okay, listen, kid….. Jim's talking to your dad, so everything is under control, okay? Why don't you boys climb into bed and try to get some sleep?"

Sam immediately climbed back under the covers, holding them up for Dean to slide in, too. Dean stayed where he was, though.

"Dean, go on, boy. I know you're exhausted. And your brother is, too. And you know how he is… he won't go to sleep until you do. You don't want to be responsible for a tired Sammy in the morning, do you?"

Dean looked over at his brother who was trying his hardest to stifle a yawn. Without another word, he moved over to lay down next to Sam. Bobby grabbed the blanket and pulled it up and over both boys, noticing how small they both looked in the full-sized bed. He was just about to turn and leave when Dean stopped him.

"Uncle Bobby? Can you, um…. can you stay for a while? I think Sam would like it if you stayed until he fell asleep."

Bobby looked over at Sam, not surprised that the kid was already asleep. He turned his gaze back onto Dean. "You got it, kid. I'll stay here for a while. In case Sammy needs me."

Dean gave him the smallest of smiles, but it was enough at the moment.

When Dean woke up the next morning, the sun was already high in the sky. And the bed was empty next to him. A moment of panic filled him until he remembered that they were at Bobby's. He knew that likely meant that Sam was already downstairs, helping Bobby make breakfast.

Climbing out of bed, Dean quickly threw on the pair of jeans and t-shirt he was wearing the day before. He looked around the room and his heart fell when he saw the two duffles waiting by the door. They were leaving today.

After a stop by the bathroom, Dean made his way down the stairs and into the kitchen. He was surprised to see everyone already sitting at the table, eating breakfast. Everyone's eyes looked up to him when he walked in, except his dad's.

John was sitting at the table, staring down at the cup of coffee he was holding. Dean could see the white of his father's knuckles as the man clenched the cup tightly. As he moved to take his seat, he could feel everyone else's eyes still on him.

"Hi, Dean! I saved you the best pieces of bacon! And I made sure not to burn the toast. It's barely toasted, just like you like it."

Dean couldn't help but smile at the big grin on his brother's face. "Thanks, Sammy." He picked up two pieces of bacon and a piece of toast before settling into his seat.

Jim poured him a glass of orange juice, setting it in front of Dean's plate. "Do you want some eggs, Dean?"

"Yes, sir," he answered quietly. He watched as Jim put a scoopful of scrambled eggs onto his plate. "Thanks, Pastor Jim."

Jim smiled at him and then grabbed the ketchup, putting it down in front of him.

"Guess what, Dean? When we're done with breakfast, Pastor Jim is going to take us into town. Dad said I need some new shoes and we're going to get some new clothes, too. Uncle Bobby said he's tired of looking at your ankles 'cuz your pants are too short."

Dean looked over at his dad again, not surprised that the man was still staring into his coffee. He really wanted to ask the man if they were still leaving, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. Fortunately, his question was answered without having to talk to his father.

"We'll need to stop at the grocery store, too," Jim said as he scooped more eggs onto his plate. "The way you two eat, Bobby will be out of food before you know it. Plus, I was thinking I might make a pie for tomorrow's dinner."

At that, John stood up and moved his dishes to the sink. Once he was done, he turned and looked directly at his oldest son. "Finish up your breakfast and then meet me out on the porch, Dean. We need to talk about a few things."

"Yes, sir," Dean immediately answered. Once John was gone, he put his fork down and pushed his plate away, suddenly having lost his appetite. The last thing he wanted to do was face his father after everything that had happened the night before.

Author's note: Okay, I lied. I couldn't get it all worked out in this chapter, so it looks like there will be at least one more. Hope that's okay with you all. ;)

Thanks so much for reading and reviewing and for just hanging in there with me. Take care.