AGH!
I know this is a really quick turn around but you guys deserve it after the last six month wait...
Like I said in the last chapter, I wrote part of this intending it to be part of the Sam chapter - so that part is a bit longer. The other two are really short but I think it kinda ties it all together.
I hope you enjoy it!
~TH~
2002 - Bobby
Bobby picked up the phone, grumbling under his breath about hunters needing to learn to sleep so that he could.
"Singer."
" Uh, hey Bobby."
"Dean?" Any tiredness evaporated at the sound of the young man's voice. It was weak, pained. "Dean, what-?"
" Dad left."
There was a beat of silence as Bobby tried to guess where Dean was going with this. John left often enough. It wasn't uncommon, especially since Sam had left. Dean rarely called to tell him anymore, Dean rarely called anymore since that whole John and the shotgun incident.
"Okay." He finally answered slowly.
" I'm not- I think I'm gonna stay away for awhile. Do some of my own hunting. I'll still check in with him and stuff but… It's… probably best to spend some time apart, right? Few months at least. Just… give us both some space."
Bobby paused, taking in the information. Something had happened. John had finally gone too far and Dean had had enough. "What did he do?"
"Don't worry about it, Bobby. I'm fine. I just… wanted to let you know." Dean let out a painful sounding cough. The sound was one that was typically associated with some form of rib injury.
"I told you to get out before it got bad."
He expected a fiery, angry response. Instead there was a resigned sigh. "That's what I'm doin', Bobby."
"Dean-"
" Really, I'm okay. I'm gonna stay away for awhile. Let him work through… whatever."
"Why don't you come up here and stay? Doesn't have to be long, couple days, just to make sure you're really okay and that you don't feel tempted to go off lookin' for him."
" I don't…" Dean let out another sigh, this one full of regret, " I can't, Bobby. I"m sorry I just… I just wanted to let you know."
The line went dead. Bobby hung it up with more force than necessary. If John Winchester appeared on his porch again, this time he wouldn't hesitate to pull the trigger.
2006 - Sam
Sam didn't sleep at all the night of Dean's… breakdown. He'd gotten his wish. November 2nd was gone, replaced with an equally depressing November 3rd. Dean began to stir around 8 A.M. Earlier than a usual hungover Dean, but maybe there was some lingering fear causing him to arouse.
Sam didn't say anything, only offered a sideways glance before heading towards the coffee machine. Dean sat up slowly. His eyes tracking Sam across the room.
"Coffee?"
Dean stared at him silently. His face not betraying whatever he may have been feelling.
"It's not good by any means, but it's caffeine. And rich. Might help with the, y'know." He tried to keep his voice neutral, not throwing any blame or shame. He was tired. Heaven knew he was tired. But he had gotten used to no sleep. Between nightmares and visions and everything else going on in their lives, both Winchester's had gotten pretty good at functioning on little to no shut-eye.
There was about thirty more seconds of silence as the coffee machine made sputtering sounds.
"What did I say?" Dean finally said. His voice sounding rough, like it often did after Dean had finally broken down and cried.
Sam hummed slightly as he added two packs of sugar to his own drink. "What do you mean?"
"Last night. I said something. I don't-" He grunted, bringing his hand to his head.
"Dean?"
Dean cursed under his breath before pushing himself up the rest of the way with a groan.
Sam cautiously turned to look at him. "Dean?"
"Forget it. All of it." He said a bit too harshly.
"What-"
"Everything I said last night. Forget it. It never happened."
Sam tapped his finger on the side of the cheap styrofoam cup. "I can't just forget that happened Dean. I can't forget-" He paused for a moment, his voice softening. "What you said."
"Well try." He flung the covers back and looked like he was going to try to stand but made no progress.
"Dean-"
"Sam. It's fine. We're fine. Don't use me getting drunk as an excuse to have some sort of chick-flick moment."
The younger brother continued tapping, debating his best course of action. He finally settled on the blunt tactic. "Did Dad hit you?"
"Shut up, Sam."
"I'm taking that as a yes."
"You don't know what you're talking about, man. Drop it, okay? Dad's dead so what's it matter?"
"He used to hit you."
"Sam."
"Pretty often if last night means anything." He was pressing. This could go one of two ways. Either it would be effective and Dean would spill everything, or it would make things worse, causing a tense and angry Dean.
"I was drunk, Sam. You of all people know it's best to ignore me when I'm drunk." He was leaning towards the second option
Sam persisted. "You were rambling on about how you were afraid I'd see. I never noticed Dean. I'm sorry."
"Stop this, Sam."
"No. I'm not dropping this 'til you tell me, so you might as well do it now and save us both some time."
"Sam."
"Dean."
Dean sighed in frustration, dragging a hand down his face. "Not that often, okay? You never noticed because you were never supposed to notice and it didn't get real bad 'til…" He trailed off, snapping his mouth shut and looking away.
"Until I left. It didn't get really bad until I left for Stanford, right?"
"It's not your fault, Sam, don't be like this. It wasn't that often. I was fine. I am fine. It was just… a bad day."
"Our father hit you… our father hit you and you just want to shrug it off, but Dean I can't just shrug it off." Sam didn't understand how Dean could just sit there and talk about it like it was nothing. Like it was expected, or worse deserved therefore making it okay.
"Don't worry about it. I left when it got bad, okay? Happy."
"No?! That means- Dean it got so bad that you had to leave !"
"I didn't have to leave, Sam. I chose to. Despite what you think of me I am capable of making my own decisions."
"Man, you can't just shrug this off. Dad-"
Dean didn't wait for him to finish. His voice had lost any life it had left, now becoming hard and nearly deadpan. "He's dead Sam, there's nothing to shrug off. Whatever your opinion of the man, I really don't see why it matters."
"It's why you need me to help you find him. Why- why you came looking for me."
"I came looking," A new tension in his voice, "Because I couldn't find him on my own."
"You came for me because you thought it might get better if I was there."
"Shut up, Sam. You don't know what you're talking about."
"I have a pretty good idea."
"Whatever, man. My head is pounding and I need a shower."
"Dean, man, please. Just… talk to me." A final plea. A final desperate plea to get Dean to just open up and tell him what had really happened. Fill in the missing pieces of a surprisingly sheltered childhood.
"There's nothing to talk about, Sam. Dad's dead and anything he may or may not have done doesn't matter because he's dead ." The end. Conversation over. Do not bring this up again.
Sam needed something. He wasn't sure what. Closure? Absolution? Clarity? "Dean-"
"Shower, Sam." He spit out before slamming the small bathroom door shut.
Sam heard the lock click into place and the shower come on. He sighed. He'd had conflicting feelings about John Winchester over the past year. He'd searced for him with mounting hope, he'd mourned his death and had attempted to honour his memory. But at the moment… at the moment John Winchester was dead. But if he hadn't been, Sam would have sent him to see the devil himself.
2014 - Sonny
Sonny watched as the younger Winchester, Sam - Sammy to teenage Dean - headed to the car.
"Hey D-Dawg," Sonny called out, waiting for Dean to turn back around.
"Something wrong?" Dean asked, waving Sam to continue heading outside .
Sonny hesitated a moment. "I'm sorry I couldn't help you more."
"Sonny-"
"No, Dean, I'm serious. I wanted to help and I like to think we were making real progress before-"
Dean had a soft yet sad smile on his face. "I chose to leave, remember? You were gonna fight for me to stay. I just couldn't."
"Because of him." He said, lifting his chin towards the open door.
The younger man shrugged, "Did what I had to do. But staying here, Sonny, it was the best time of my life. I could never- never tell Sam. He wouldn't understand but this," he motioned vaguely, "Thoughts of this is was got me through some… not so great times with my dad."
"You still defending him?" He asked bluntly. Dean never spoke an ill word towards his father in all the time he stayed at Sonny's. Not when he left Dean because he was starving and got caught, not when Dean flinched at every raised hand, not when the man dragged Dean away on the night of his very first dance.
"Dad was a mess." It was slightly surprising, but mostly relieving to hear the words. "If it hadn't been for Sammy…." he trailed off, clearing his throat. "It was nice to be in a place where you didn't get a black eye for knocking over a not quite empty bottle… even if only for a few months."
Sonny eyed the young man carefully. Dean shrugged slightly, looking away. "I'm proud of you, Dean." He said finally.
Dean's eyes shot up. "I, uh, I'd be careful with that kind of praise."
"You're taking care of your brother, you're taking care of random strangers, seems to me like you're taking care of most of this country if not the whole world. And you just admitted to me that your Dad wasn't perfect. I can't see a reason not to be proud."
Dean cleared his throat, a sure sign that he was holding back tears. "Well, uh, thanks Sonny. For everything. You, uh changed my life. Gave me a taste of normal. Normal just… wasn't for me."
"See you around D-Dawg."
After a quick glance over his shoulder to make sure Sam wasn't watching, Dean threw his arms around the old man. Sonny returned the embrace, remembering a scared sixteen-year-old boy who took off with a handshake.
As much as he had always grieved the loss of Dean's childhood, there was no denying that he had grown up to become a good man. That he had learned from his father's mistakes and was more importantly, finally recognizing them. There was nothing Sonny could do for teenage Dean, but right now, he could hug the man tight and offer a warm, proud, smile.
~TH~
So that's the end!
If you enjoyed the story please let me know!
I really am glad this story is over, but don't worry I have several more in the works.
Let me know what you thought!
Find me (trekkiehood) and
pricelesstrashpanda
both on Tumblr and on Ao3!
God bless,
Jamie