Raising Winchesters
Chapter 17
They stayed at the small cabin for another few days while Dean recovered and John made sure there weren't any other creatures hiding out. He still had no idea what kind of creatures they actually were, so he planned on studying the remains as much as he could. Once he was done with that, he planned on salting and burning the bodies, just in case.
Unfortunately, the two carcasses were missing when he went outside the next morning. To John's eyes, it looked like they had been dragged away, but there wasn't enough of a trail to actually follow. He looked around the woods surrounding the cabin- not wanting to venture too far away from his boys- but he didn't find anything that would lead him to either the bodies of the creatures or to whatever had taken them away. It was all just a dead-end.
Heading back to the cabin, he found himself going over the night's events in his head and for what seemed like at least the hundredth time, he went through the sequence of events, hoping to find something that would help him deal with the aftermath.
Dean and Sam both had nightmares that night and for the several following nights, unsurprisingly. John even found himself waking up several times during the following nights with visions from his own nightmares of his boys being torn apart by the creatures. His mind constantly tortured him with the thought of how close he'd come to losing his children.
He had yet to do or say anything about the fact that the boys had disobeyed him by leaving the cabin, but he knew he'd have to do it sooner or later. He still had no idea why the boys were outside, but he really didn't think there was any excuse good enough to save either of them from ending up with a sore backside. They had their orders and they both knew the rules about following those orders, so in his mind, the two of them being outside was just a show of willful disobedience.
By the morning of the fourth day, John was getting antsy to leave. Dean was almost completely recovered from his cold and luckily, John and Sammy had completely escaped getting it. After breakfast, John sent the boys to pack up what little they'd unpacked, while he made a few phone calls. He still wasn't quite ready to have his talk with the boys, mostly because he didn't want the upcoming trip to be colored by both boys having been recently punished. It was already going to be a long enough trip, as it was.
So, for both selfish and unselfish reasons, he decided to wait until they were back at Bobby's before he addressed the situation. The boys didn't know they were headed back to Bobby's, but John knew they wouldn't mind. They both loved it at Bobby's house and John had to admit that it was nice to have another person- someone he trusted- to help out with the boys. He knew that the older hunter loved his boys as if they were his own.
Sometimes he resented that fact. Usually, that resentment happened whenever he would get the feeling that his boys preferred their Uncle Bobby to their own father. Bobby tended to have way more patience with Sam and Dean, even though he didn't really put up with much from them. He also tended to be more playful with them, even though he'd never admit it. Bobby could spend hours showing Dean how to track and hunt. He'd spend hours reading to Sam and letting Sam read to him.
John didn't have that same patience, really. Especially when it came to doing things that weren't hunting related. He enjoyed teaching Dean how to shoot and clean weapons and throw a knife, but things were different with Sam. Sam didn't know about the supernatural world, so John couldn't have those same moments with his youngest son. And he just didn't have time to listen to Sam reading Dr. Seuss or whatever it was he liked to read.
Whenever they were at Bobby's, John used the benefit of having another adult to look after the boys to his own advantage. He would often leave the boys with Bobby for days on end, while he researched, planned, and coordinated the hunt for whatever it was he was hunting. He knew he was taking advantage of the older hunter, but it didn't matter. The hunt had to come first.
And, no matter how grumpy and gruff Bobby was, no matter how much he complained, John knew that the man didn't mind it at all. Bobby Singer was a big, old teddy bear when it came to Sam and Dean.
Dean spent the next few days at the cabin alternating between trying to stick as close to his father as he could and trying to stay out of the man's sight. He was still pretty shaken by the events of that night, so having his dad close by drove away some of the fear he was still feeling. But, he was also nervous about how his dad was going to react to the fact that they were outside when they both knew they weren't supposed to be. In fact, he was downright shocked that the man hadn't brought it up at all yet.
John wasn't usually the type of man to let disobedience slide- no matter the situation- and Dean knew that. John was always swift to mete out punishment, so the fact that he hadn't yet left Dean feeling extremely uncertain about things.
While Dean found comfort, for the most part, when his dad was present, he was completely unnerved whenever Sam was out of his sight. It didn't happen often, of course, in the small cabin, but whenever Sam left the room to go to the bathroom or to walk into the kitchen, Dean found himself following closely behind. Of course, Sam never strayed too far away from his brother, either.
The nights were the worst. Dean found himself waking up several times a night from his own nightmares. He also woke up several times a night when he heard whimpers and crying coming from Sam during his own nightmare. All in all, all three of the Winchesters were stressed and exhausted.
The morning their dad told them to pack up was a good day, in Dean's mind. He was more than ready to leave the little cabin- and everything that had happened- behind. He hadn't stepped foot outside of the cabin since that night, so he really didn't know what to expect when he did. Would he see the bodies of the creatures? Would there be signs of blood or broken glass on the ground? And what about the Impala? It wasn't until they were headed to the car that he remembered throwing up all over the floorboard of the back seat. Was his dad mad about that? Did it still need to be cleaned up?
Dean was relieved and a little embarrassed to see that the mess had already been cleaned up. He couldn't stand the thought of his father knowing that he'd been so scared that he'd thrown up like a baby, but his dad didn't say anything about it. After loading everything up in the car, the man just watched as the boys settled themselves in the back seat. Dean tried to keep his eyes off of the cardboard and tape that covered the broken window. And he didn't look his dad in the eye, but he could tell that the man wasn't going to make a big deal out of any of it. And he was thankful for that.
Although he really wanted to know where they were going, Dean didn't ask. Instead, he sat in the back seat of the car, watching out the back window as the miserable little cabin faded into the background. He hoped to never see it again.
That evening, they stopped at a small diner for dinner. Dean, who had finally gotten his appetite back, quickly scarfed down a bacon cheeseburger and his fries, plus half of Sam's. Sam was eating a little slower, taking the time to chew his food thoroughly like he'd learned in school. As he chewed, he looked around the small diner, checking out the other customers and watching the waiters and waitresses as they worked. He had just taken the last bite of his sandwich when he noticed someone looking at Dean. He watched for several minutes, surprised that the man's eyes had never once left his brother.
"Daddy? Why is that man staring at Dean?"
John was busy looking through his journal and talking to Bobby, so he really wasn't paying attention to Sam. Dean, on the other hand, perked up when he heard Sam say that someone was staring at him.
"What guy?" he asked his little brother.
"The guy at the counter," Sam answered. "He's been looking at you for a long time."
"Probably because I'm so good-lookin'," Dean said as he stuffed a few more of Sam's fries into his mouth.
"Dean, he's just staring at you…."
Dean finally found the man and he didn't want to admit it, but the man was kind of creepy. Their eyes locked across the small diner and Dean was quickly convinced that the man never blinked. Dean was the one that finally broke away from the staring contest, but when he looked back the man was still staring at him.
"Dad, can we go?" he asked.
John held up one finger as he continued to talk into the phone. Dean shifted uneasily in his seat and pulled Sam closer to him. He wasn't going to take any chances.
Eventually, John ended his call and closed the journal. He looked over to the boys to see if they were done eating, but the sight he was hit with was unnerving. Both Sam and Dean were huddled up together on the small bench seat and both of their faces were extremely pale. Dean had one arm around Sam's shoulder and Sam was clinging desperately to Dean's arm.
"What's wrong?" John finally asked.
Dean hesitated too long, so it was Sam that finally talked. "That man keeps staring at Dean," he said quietly. So quietly, in fact, that John could barely make out what he was saying. Once he figured it out, he turned to look in the direction Sam was pointing.
"What man?" he asked when he didn't see anyone in that general area. "All I see is the waiter. Are you talking about him?"
"No," Dean answered as he looked over to where the man was sitting. He was surprised to see that the man was no longer there. "He's gone. He was sitting right there, Dad, and he was just staring at me.
John could tell that both boys were freaked out, but he couldn't really do anything about it. The man obviously wasn't there anymore, so John had no way of dealing with it.
"Well, maybe he was just staring at you because you're so good-lookin'."
"Dad…" Dean groaned.
John put both of his hands up in front of him in surrender. "Hey, that was supposed to be a compliment." John stared around the room a little longer, trying to figure out if there was something weird going on. But, he didn't see or hear anything.
"Okay, boys…. Let's load up and hit the road, okay? We still have a lot of driving to do."
The Winchesters piled back into the Impala. John was eager to get back on the road and Sam had been about to fall asleep while they waited for John to pay the bill. Once they were back on the road, Sam quickly fell asleep with his head resting on his brother's shoulder, the weird man all but forgotten.
Dean was tired, too, but every time he closed his eyes, flashes of the creature crashing through the window of the car had him opening them again. He didn't miss the way his dad's eyes kept flicking back to him in the rearview mirror, but he tried his best not to make eye contact. He had a feeling his dad was gearing up to talk to him and he really wasn't ready for that.
Unfortunately, John Winchester's opinion on when it was the right time for something was all that mattered.
"Is your brother asleep?" John asked his oldest.
"Yes, sir."
"What about you? You ready to sleep?"
"Not really," Dean answered as he looked out the side window.
"Well, then maybe this is a good time to talk about what happened."
Dean didn't say anything. And John just watched him in the mirror for a few more seconds. Eventually, he called Dean's attention back to the conversation.
"So, do you want to tell me what happened?" he finally asked. When Dean didn't answer right away, he cleared his throat and continued. "Dean, we're going to talk about this, so you better start answering. What were you and your brother doing outside of the cabin? Did I not make it clear to you that you were supposed to stay inside with the doors and windows locked and salted?"
"Yes, sir."
"So why the hell were you outside?! You outright disobeyed me?"
Dean was frantically trying to come up with an answer that would keep him and his brother out of trouble, but he couldn't. When he figured that out, he started to try to think of one that would at least keep Sam out of trouble. In his mind, the kid had been traumatized enough already.
"Dean, I'm waiting for an answer, but I'm not going to wait much longer. If I don't hear some answers coming from back there, I'm pulling this car over. And I don't think you want me to do that, do you?"
"No, sir," Dean answered quickly. He had no idea how to get Sam out of the mess he'd created, so he finally just decided to tell the truth. "I went outside to protect Sam," he finally answered.
"What do you mean? Why would you have to do that? What, you heard the creatures out on the porch again and decided to go out and take care of them yourself?"
"No!" Dean quickly answered. "That's not what happened, Dad."
"Then tell me what happened," John growled, obviously losing his patience.
Dean looked down at his little brother and sighed. There wasn't anything he could do, but tell the truth. "I fell asleep on the couch, Dad, and when I woke up, Sam was gone. I looked everywhere in the cabin for him and then I noticed that the door was unlocked."
"He left the cabin on his own?" John asked incredulously.
"Yes, sir. When I realized that the door was unlocked, I grabbed the gun and went out onto the porch. At first, I didn't see anything, but then I saw the Impala parked there. I thought that maybe you had come back, but I didn't see you anywhere. Then I saw Sam in the Impala. He was looking at me through the Impala and I could tell that something was wrong. And then I heard something behind me. Something big."
Dean stopped talking and took a few deep breaths, trying to calm himself down. He was surprised that his dad didn't demand for him to continue. Instead, the man sat patiently in the front seat, his eyes occasionally leaving the road to check on his son.
After a few more deep breaths, Dean continued. "When I turned around, I saw one of the creatures coming at me, so I shot it. I wasn't even sure if I hit it, Dad. I didn't check. I just opened the door and jumped in the car."
John was quiet again for a few minutes, thinking through everything before he continued. Eventually, he looked back at Dean. "It was a good shot, Dean. Clean through the creature's neck."
Dean didn't know what to say to that. He knew that it was just luck, because he hadn't used any of the shooting tips his father had taught him when he was learning how to fire a gun.
"Why did Sammy leave the cabin?" John finally asked. "And why weren't you watching him?"
"H-He wanted to get his coloring book. And I'm sorry I wasn't watching him, Dad. It's all my fault and I swear it won't ever happen again!"
John eyed his son closely. "It's not like you to shirk your duties, son. What happened?"
Dean really didn't want to tell his dad that he had fallen asleep because he was sick. To him, it was pretty obvious, but he wouldn't ever say that to his father. Instead, he just kept his answers as general as he could. "I didn't mean to fall asleep. I just did, I guess."
"I guess? Dean, if you had stayed awake and kept an eye on Sam, none of this would have happened."
"He was sick, Daddy. Remember?"
Dean's eyes jerked down to his little brother at those words. He didn't realize that Sam was awake. John also seemed surprised to hear Sam's voice. And he had no idea how to answer the boy. Yes, Dean had been sick, but that didn't excuse him from his duties. He was a soldier and a soldier did what he had to do, regardless of illness or injury.
Except, Dean wasn't really a soldier, was he? Without another word, John pulled the Impala over to the side of the road. Sam and Dean stared at each other, wide-eyed and nervous about what was going on. Nothing good ever came from their dad pulling the car over on the side of the road.
Once the car was stopped, John turned around in the seat to face his sons. Neither one of them would look him in the eye until he cleared his throat loudly. Then, two sets of eyes quickly moved up to look at him.
"I remember, Sammy," John finally answered. "I guess I just didn't realize that he was so sick that he couldn't keep an eye on you."
"He was really sick, Daddy. He even threw up back here!"
Dean shoved his elbow into Sam's side, trying to get him to shut-up.
"Ow!" Sam cried out. And then…. "You did, Dean. Remember? It went all over the floor and it smelled really gross!"
"Sammy, please….."
Sam shut his mouth even though he didn't see what the big deal was.
"Maybe you want to explain to me why you left the cabin against my orders, Sam?"
Sam suddenly realized that his dad's attention was now on him and he knew he was in big trouble.
"I-I needed my coloring book. I was just gonna run to the car and get it, that's all." Sam's eyes were pooling tears and Dean couldn't help but pull him closer.
"I think you and I need to have a conversation about the difference between needing and wanting, Sammy," John growled. "You didn't need your coloring book, you wanted it. And you know better than to go off on your own."
Tears were now falling down Sam's little face and John was finding it hard to stay mad at the boy. He knew that Sam really needed to learn this lesson, but that didn't mean that he had to enjoy teaching it.
"Okay, when we get back to Bobby's, you and I are going to be having a serious talk, Sammy-boy. You can count on that!"
"Okay, Daddy," Sam answered sadly as he curled up into Dean's side even more. Dean watched his eyes close and felt his breathing start to even out.
"What about me?" Dean finally asked after Sam had fallen back to sleep.
"What about you?" John asked.
"Am I in trouble for not…. not watching out for Sammy?"
John felt that ever familiar twinge of guilt at Dean's question. How many times had he punished the boy for some perceived lack of not watching out for his brother? Notwithstanding, the shtriga incident, of course.
"You're not in trouble, son. I know you did the best you could and it's not your fault that you got sick, okay? And you saved Sam, Dean. You took out both of those creatures all on your own."
Dean couldn't believe that his father was actually praising him. And he couldn't believe that he wasn't in trouble. Just when he thought it couldn't get any weirder, his father said one last thing.
"I'm proud of you son. You handled everything like a seasoned hunter."
Dean nearly laughed at that, feeling anything but seasoned. He was pretty sure that other hunters didn't lose their dinner in the face of danger. He was pretty sure they didn't need to be carried away because their legs were too weak to hold them. And he was pretty sure that they didn't break down in tears and cling to their daddies along the way. To Dean's way of thinking, his dad should have been ashamed of him.
John seemed to be able to pick up on Dean's way of thinking, because the next thing he said shocked Dean to the core.
"Dean, did I ever tell you what happened on my very first hunt?"
"No, sir."
"I know you think I'm some kind of a badass hunter, Dean, but I wasn't always like that. The first hunt I went on was with Pastor Jim and another hunter named Martin. We were hunting something called a wraith and Pastor Jim tried to warn me about them. He told me that wraiths had the ability to heighten whatever emotions a person was feeling at the moment just by touching them. Those heightened emotions could drive a person temporarily crazy as they took over.
I thought I could handle it, and I wouldn't ever admit it, but I was really scared and nervous. Jim told me to stay with him, but I didn't listen. And the wraith got to me. With a single touch, that fear and nervousness completely took me over. I nearly cost a civilian her life because of it. And do you know what I did? I threw up all over myself. Right there in front of Jim and Martin and the lady we were trying to save…. I threw up."
"Really?" Dean asked, not completely sure that his dad wasn't just saying that to make him feel better about his own situation. Of course, that wasn't something that the man would ever really do. But then, neither was actually admitting to some kind of weakness, either.
"Really," John laughed. "There was a part of me that never wanted to go on a hunt again after that. Because the whole situation made me feel like I wasn't cut out to be a hunter. But, do you know what Pastor Jim said to me? He said that good hunters embrace the knowledge that there are things out there to be afraid of. He said that a good hunter doesn't let one mistake or one perceived weakness influence or color the rest of his hunting life. He said that it's okay for a hunter to be human, to show human weaknesses like fear. It's all part of being a hunter, Dean."
"Do you still get scared when you're hunting?" Dean asked in a quiet voice.
"Yeah, I do," John admitted. "I get scared that I'll fail and that someone will die because I couldn't do the job. I get scared that I'm not strong enough or smart enough. Sometimes, I still feel like throwing up all over the place, Dean. But, I've learned to push all that fear aside. Or at least to use it in some way. I don't let it hinder me from doing my job. And neither did you. You took out both of those creatures on your own, son. Despite the fact that you were probably terrified. You stowed that fear away and you did what you had to do. And I'm proud of you for that.
"I had to, Dad. I had to protect Sammy. He's just a kid."
Author's note: There you go. John finally (kinda) dealt with the issue. What do you all think of how he handled it? Too soft? Too hard? Just right? How do you think he should deal with Sammy once they get to Bobby's? And what's up with the strange man staring at Dean?
Thank you for all the wonderful reviews on the last chapter. I was really hoping that the intensity of the situation (as I saw it in my head) came through in the writing and it seems like most of you thought it did. I'm still trying to figure out the whole writing action scenes thing, so bear with me.
Thanks so much for reading. I'd love to hear your thoughts on the chapter/story. And if you're interested, I started another little story called Winchester Family Vacations. I'd love it if you'd give it a read.