Raising Winchesters
Chapter 6
Joanna Howard had her hands full while Pastor Jim and John were gone. It wasn't that she couldn't handle two little boys. It was more that she just couldn't handle two little Winchesters.
Sam, of course, wasn't really that hard to take care of, although the fact that he was teething didn't make anything easier. He had been unusually fussy and restless, but Joanna had learned early on that giving him something cold and soft to chew on made him feel at least a little better.
Dean, on the other hand, was a whole different story.
From the moment he woke up to find that his father had already left to the moment the man finally returned, Dean was a handful. Joanna knew that it all stemmed from the fact that he was worried that his father wouldn't come back, and no matter how often she reassured him that John would be back soon, it didn't help. Of course, it only made things worse when John and Jim were gone longer than they said they would be. And that John didn't call as much as he should have. She wasn't a violent person by nature, but she sure felt a strong desire to slap John upside the head for putting his boy through that.
In Dean's defense, she could tell that the boy wasn't willfully being naughty and obstinate. He just didn't know how to deal with the frustration and fear he was feeling, so it came out in argumentative, defiant actions.
She tried initially to just ignore his behavior, but after the second day of Dean refusing to eat or take a bath or do just about anything else she asked of him, she had had enough. Thus began the first of many stints of Dean standing in whatever corner was closest or being sent to bed early. She was actually surprised that Dean stayed in the corner or in the bed. She thought for sure that he would fight her on that, as well, but it seemed even he realized when he needed to take some time and calm down.
The one thing that Dean didn't argue about was taking care of Sammy. She hadn't ever known an older sibling to be so caring and attentive to a younger sibling, especially since Dean was only five years old. Anytime Sam needed anything, Dean was there to take care of it. Occasionally, he would allow Joanna to step in and take over, but it was always under his overly watchful eye. Dean desperately needed Sam and Sam desperately needed Dean. Joanna wouldn't ever admit it, but it broke her heart to see the bond between the two boys, knowing that, if continued, it would more than likely become unhealthy for both of them. No one should need another human being that much.
Despite the fact that Dean often refused to eat, Joanna finally found a way to get him to take at least a few bites. She discovered early on that Dean loved pie, and eventually she stooped to using that knowledge to bribe the boy into doing what she needed. She wasn't proud of the many times she told Dean that she would bake him a pie if he ate his dinner, took a bath, or went to bed without arguing. Or the times that she threatened him with not being allowed to eat a piece of pie she had already made. But, she did it anyway. She figured that God would forgive her for bribing the poor boy.
By the time John and Jim returned, Joanna was exhausted. That last day had been the worst, by far, and she wanted nothing more than to hand over the reins to John Winchester (after slapping him senseless, of course) and returning to her quiet home where defiant, naughty boys were a thing of the past.
All in all, it was a miserable week for Joanna Howard.
All in all, it had been a miserable week for Dean Winchester.
He knew he wasn't being good like his dad wanted him to be, but he couldn't help it. When he woke up to find that his father had left with Pastor Jim, a feeling of anxiety enveloped him completely. He didn't know what his dad was doing, other than the fact that it was a "job." All he knew was that John had left and that there was a possibility that he wouldn't come back. Like his mom. Dean knew that his mom had died, that she didn't have a choice and hadn't just left him and Sammy behind, but that only made him realize that the same thing could happen to his dad. If mommies could die, so could daddies, right?
Throughout the course of the next week, Dean tried (and obviously failed) to behave. He helped with Sammy whenever he could and he watched Mrs. Howard closely when she was taking care of his little brother. But, when Mrs. Howard told him to eat and he already felt like he was going to throw up, he couldn't do it. When Mrs. Howard told him to take a bath, he didn't want to be away from Sammy long enough to do that. And when Mrs. Howard sent him to bed, he didn't want to go, wanting instead to stare out the window, watching for his dad to return.
He knew better than to behave the way he was. He knew that his dad expected him to mind Mrs. Howard and that he wasn't allowed to talk back and throw tantrums. He knew. But he couldn't help it. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't.
So, he had grown used to being sent to stand in some dusty corner time and time again. He was used to being sent to bed early night after night. And though he wanted to argue with her over and over again about having to do these things, he also knew that he needed the time-outs to calm himself down. His stomach was perpetually in knots and he was exhausted.
At the moment, he found himself once again standing in the corner, having been sent to his room to think about his behavior and how he could have made better choices. Mrs. Howard was all about making better choices and Dean hated it. He knew he needed to make better choices, but that was definitely something that was easier said than done. At least, in his experience.
As he stood in the corner, he could hear Sammy crying and Mrs. Howard trying to calm him down. He knew that Sammy was crying for him, but for the first time in a long time, Dean didn't have the strength to care. All he could focus on was his own misery and his total belief in the fact that his dad was never coming home again.
When John had called that first night after leaving, Dean was quick to ask him when he was coming home. He wasn't happy when his dad said that it would be a few days before they could make it back, but he tried to be brave. He told John all about the day they had had, telling him that he had taught Sam how to play peek-a-boo and how Sam laughed until he threw up. He told him that Mrs. Howard wasn't patting him on the head as much as she used to and that she promised to make him a pie the next day. By the time John ended the call, Dean was feeling better and he went to bed without complaining.
The next few days were a completely different story, though. When John didn't return or even call, Dean's anxiety and worry increased substantially, which of course led to a completely downward spiral in his behavior. After a few more days without word from John or Jim, Dean was done for. And Mrs. Howard paid the price.
Dean knew he shouldn't have yelled at her or threw his food at her, but he just couldn't take it anymore. He had eaten very little through the week and he had grown tired of Mrs. Howard constantly nagging at him to eat and bribing him with pie. And he hated peas!
He regretted it all the second the peas and carrots left his spoon to land in Mrs. Howard's face. He hated the look of shock on her face and he instantly felt remorse for what he had done. Deep down, he knew she didn't deserve something like that, but it was too late to take it back.
Sam, who was sitting in his high chair, started giggling at the sight of Mrs. Howard with peas and carrots dripping down her face and into her hair. If Dean hadn't been so scared, he would have laughed when Sam picked up a pea and threw it towards her, too. Instead, he just sat there, waiting for the woman to start yelling at him or even start spanking him. Not that she had done that before, but Dean figured if there was ever a time he deserved it, it was then.
When Sam realized that no one else was laughing, he turned his attention back to his brother. And when he saw the look on Dean's face, his own lips started trembling and within seconds he was crying. Dean knew that Sam wanted him to pick him up, but he just sat in his chair, waiting for Mrs. Howard to do something.
After several long seconds where the two of them just stared at each other, Mrs. Howard finally looked away and grabbed a napkin. After wiping her face off, she turned back to Dean.
"Dean, I want you to go up to your room and put yourself in the corner," she said matter-of-factly, her voice calm and steady.
Dean didn't say anything at all, but he nodded his head slightly before climbing down out of the chair and heading to his room, completely ignoring the cries of his baby brother.
By the time John had taken a shower and shaved the weeks' worth of beard off his face, he was feeling much calmer. He knew that ultimately it was his fault that Dean had behaved so poorly in the time he was gone, but he also knew that he couldn't just completely disregard Dean's misbehavior. To do that would be immensely detrimental in the end, because Dean needed to understand that it wasn't okay to act like that, no matter the reason for it.
During their time on the job, Jim had tried to talk to him about the fear, anxiety, and uncertainty that Dean was more than likely feeling. But, John thought he knew his son better than Jim did, disregarding everything the man said about Dean being scared and anxious. Dean was a strong kid. And he needed to come to terms with the fact that John was going to be hunting now. John needed Dean to stay strong, to not give in to his fears. He needed Dean to put his fear and anxiety aside and to do what was required of him.
Deep down, he knew that was probably too much to ask of a five year old, but he felt like he didn't have a choice in the matter. He had to find the thing that killed Mary and if that meant that he had to be a little harder on his boys then so be it. He was a hunter now and things just had to change. He couldn't afford to let his boys grow up soft and emotionally vulnerable. He had to toughen them up, preparing them for what their lives now consisted of- monsters, evil, pain, sacrifice. They had to learn to do what was expected of them. To follow orders and keep their heads down.
John didn't know how this hunting business was going to work when he had two small boys to raise, but he knew he had to figure it out. Nothing was more important than finding and killing the thing that killed his wife. And killing all the other evil things he now knew were out there. Sam and Dean would have to learn that nothing was more important than that.
Running a hand over his face, John opened the bedroom door, prepared to go and deal with his misbehaving son. He had no idea how he was going to deal with him, but he knew he needed to nip this particular behavior in the bud before it blossomed into something he couldn't control.
Before he could make it to the boys' room, Jim stepped into the hallway, blocking his path.
"John, maybe I should talk to him first. Joanna told me a little more about what happened. She's really worried about Dean."
"I can deal with this, Jim."
"I'm not saying that you can't, John. All I'm saying is that Dean's a little fragile right now and maybe a softer touch is in order. You looked pretty angry downstairs."
"I am angry!" John growled. "Dean knows better than to act like that."
"John, he's scared. And he's only five. He doesn't know how to deal with everything that's happened to him. Children who have lost a parent often act out like that. He just needs time."
"I don't have time to coddle him, Jim. He needs to be reminded that his actions have consequences, so if you'll excuse me, I need to be doing some reminding."
Jim eyed John closely, but then stepped aside. Just as John passed, Jim reached out and grabbed his arm. "John, just be patient, okay? I'm not saying the boy shouldn't be punished. Just put yourself in his shoes for a minute and try to understand why he's acting the way he is."
John gave Jim a nod before pulling his arm away and heading towards his son.
John opened the door and his eyes immediately fell on the small form of his son who was still standing nose to the corner. At the sound of the door opening, Dean swung around, his own eyes widening at the sight of his father standing in the doorway.
"Daddy!" he cried as he ran to John, throwing himself against his father's body.
John reached down and picked Dean up, bringing him up to his chest. Dean wrapped his legs around John's waist and his arms around his neck, burying his face at the same time. John could feel the trembles in the boy's body and could feel the wetness of his tears seeping through his t-shirt.
"Hey, Dean," he said quietly, still holding tightly to the small body as he rubbed his back. After several minutes of Dean grabbing onto him desperately, John pulled the boy away from him and set him back down on the ground. "I'm home," he said simply, finding it hard to look his son in the eye when he said it.
"Where were you, Daddy? You were gone a long time."
John didn't feel like he needed to explain himself to his son, but he tried anyway. "I told you I had a job, Dean."
"But you said you were only going to be gone two days, Daddy. You were gone for forever." Dean wiped the tears from his face as he looked up at his father.
"It took longer than I thought it would, Dean."
"That's not fair, Daddy," Dean pouted. "I waited every day for you and you didn't come back."
John could hear the fear in his son's voice and he felt a quick sliver of guilt rush through him. "Sometimes things don't go as planned, kiddo. I'm sorry."
Dean didn't say anything, so John continued. "Mrs. Howard tells me you got yourself into a little bit of trouble while I was gone."
Dean suddenly found the buttons on his shirt fascinating. When he still didn't say anything, John continued again. "What did I tell you before I left, Dean?"
Instead of answering, Dean shrugged his shoulders, making John's anger surge. "When I ask you a question, I expect an answer, Dean," he said firmly. "None of this shrugging shoulders business. Now, what did I tell you?"
"That I had to behave while you were gone," Dean nearly whispered.
"Speak up, Dean," John demanded. "And look at me when you're talking to me."
Dean's eyes shot up to his father's and he repeated his words in a louder voice.
"And did you behave while I was gone?"
"I tried, Daddy," he answered.
"That's not what I asked, son. I asked you if you behaved while I was gone. Yes or no."
"No, sir."
John kept his eyes on his son while he made his way over to the bed. Sitting down, he pointed to the place right in front of him. "Come here, Dean."
Dean slowly walked over to his father, stopping once he was a few feet away. John reached out and grabbed Dean's arm, pulling him gently to stand in between his knees.
"Mrs. Howard said that you have been angry and restless all week. She said that you wouldn't eat for her and that you argued when she told you to take a bath or go to bed. Is that acceptable behavior, Dean?"
Dean shook his head, but when John cleared his throat in expectation, he answered. "No, sir."
"Did anything else happen while I was gone?" John asked, hoping that Dean would be forthcoming with the events of the evening.
Dean didn't say or do anything for a few seconds, but just when John thought he was going to have to intervene, he started talking. "I, uh…. I didn't want to eat, but she told me I had to," he finally got out.
"And?"
"She made peas, Daddy," Dean said indignantly. "I hate peas!"
"I'm sure Mrs. Howard didn't know you hated peas, Dean, or she wouldn't have made them. Now, what happened?"
Dean suddenly dropped his gaze back down to his buttons. John reached out and placed two fingers under Dean's chin, gently lifting his face back up. "Dean…."
"I threw my peas and carrots at her," Dean admitted miserably. "I'm sorry, Daddy. I didn't mean to."
"What do you mean you didn't mean to, Dean?" John asked sternly. "That doesn't sound like something that happens accidentally. Was it an accident?"
"No, sir."
"So, you did it on purpose?"
"I guess so."
"Either you did or you didn't, Dean. Which is it?
"I did," he admitted sadly.
"Mrs. Howard didn't deserve that," John said simply.
"I know," Dean cried. "And I'm really, really sorry, Daddy."
"It's not me you need to apologize to about that one, Dean. So, when we're done here, I expect you to go downstairs and give Mrs. Howard a proper apology, understand?"
"Yes, sir."
John rubbed his hand over his face again, wondering if his next plan of action was the right one or not. Making up his mind, he grabbed Dean under the arms and sat him on his lap. "Dean, I know that you didn't like that I left. And I know that you were scared when I didn't come back when I said I would. But, that doesn't give you the right to completely forget how you were raised and to treat Mrs. Howard like you did. Or to treat Pastor Jim's house like you did. Mrs. Howard told me that you were slamming doors and kicking at the furniture at times, too. That is all completely unacceptable, son."
John's heart broke at the sight of the tears that were already sliding down his son's face.
"I need you to understand, buddy, that there are going to be times that I'm going to have to leave for a job. And there will be times that I won't make it back when I say I will. But, I promise you, Dean…. I will always do everything I can to make it back to you, okay?"
Dean nodded his head as he tried to wipe the tears off of his face.
"But, while I'm gone, I expect you to do what you're supposed to do. I expect you to behave and to mind whoever is watching you. No more tantrums and defiance. No more being disrespectful. No more throwing food at someone. You know better than that, Dean."
"I'm sorry, Daddy," Dean said for what felt like the hundredth time.
"I'm sure you are," John answered as he lifted Dean up and placed him back on the floor. "Dean, I know you know what happens when you disobey me, son. So, let's get this over with okay?"
Without another word, John guided Dean over his knees, waiting for him to settle before setting about reminding the boy that actions always have consequences.
Author's note: I'd love to hear what you all think about how John reacted to Dean's misbehavior. I'm really trying to write him differently than the John we know in canon, because I don't think he just suddenly became a hard-ass the moment Mary died. I think it was more of a slow fade into the no-nonsense, drill sergeant-esque father we've all grown to love (or hate).
Thank you so much for reading and reviewing. You are all appreciated.