This idea just popped into my head and would not leave me alone until I let myself write it. Honestly, I love stories like that. They can really get you hyped up to write, and it's a wonderful feeling to both work on something new and get a refreshed drive to write. Though I will admit flat out, I'm not sure exactly where this will go or how long it will last. Probably going to be something I'm going to need to work on as I go, but for now I have a firm idea of how I want the first few chapters to play out at least.
So, if anyone has any particular fluff they want to see, feel free to leave a comment and make a request or suggestion. I'm quite open to it.
Chapter 1: Mother and Child Reunion
The amount of different bedrooms Dean had seen in his relatively short life of only twenty-three years was rather staggering. In just under a quarter-century the hunter had been in too many to count, random ones where babysitters put him and Sam to sleep while the boys were watched for their dad while he was away working, rooms of teen girls when he'd still been bothering with high school that had sneaked him in with giggling and hushed whispers not to be too loud for fear of waking up parents, and of course the hotels ranging everywhere from suites to dinky little, cheap single rooms. The later had been the norm, fancier places only taken when nothing else could be conveniently found. John had always put survival over comfort, and it was much more important to put their limited money toward food to keep bellies warm and full than getting a place for a single night that offered such niceties like mints on pillows and fresh flowers in vases.
This place was much more down the middle of the road between the two extremes. It wasn't any kind of bug infested hovel but neither was it the sort of place that celebrities liked to party in with the money they could afford to literally burn. It was just comfortable, a soft pair of twin beds, working AC that made the beginning of summer a lot more bearable and a nice hot shower with good amount of pressure to wash dirt and grime off. It had been the best feature of the place, sorely needed after the conclusion of the latest hunt Dean and his dad had taken part in.
Cheyenne Bottoms hadn't sounded like a fun place to go visit in the first place, for a variety of different reasons. Who wanted to stomp around in the middle of marshlands in the first place? Wet, slimy and bugs flying around everywhere in the warm weather, it had been a pain in the ass even before they had found the monster there, dragging people down to murder and eat chunks off of them. It had been the first time Dean had ever encountered a boggart, a shaggy thing with big eyes and yellowish fingernails long enough to be claws. The thing had barely been in the shape of a human, ugly as sin and twice as foul. It had taken forever to lure it out to kill it, wading out in the waters and acting as bait to trying and entice it.
He'd been warned by his dad it was going to be a mess of a job, but it had been both literally and figuratively. Apparently Cheyenne had a bad past from the start, old blood that had once flowed in the water in a battle that had happened over a hundred years ago. A history of anger, violence and bloodshed always attracted nasty things to it. The boggart probably hadn't even been the first thing to move into the area to nest over the years.
The other reason why the place wasn't exactly pleasant for them to hunt was the state they were in. Kansas was a place that John largely liked to avoid for the most part. He mostly drove around it unless time was of the essence and they had to get through it as fast as possible, and the amount of hunts they'd done there over the years Dean could count on one hand. His dad had insisted on tackling this one though, and he hadn't argued, not seeing the reason for it. John Winchester said jump and Dean did, because he needed him to and he largely knew better in these sort of situations. Questioning orders only wasted time and made life harder on his father.
Part of Dean had to wonder if the older hunter was feeling a little nostalgic. It hadn't been long since Sam had left for Standford, a few months in fact. He'd taken off after a huge argument with their dad. Arguments were the order of the day most times that his little brother and dad were in the same room together, but the last time had easily been the worst. Screaming for both of them, accusations from Sam that John was a controlling obsessed maniac, John yelling at him that he was an ungrateful brat betraying his whole family for a pretty lie. Dean wanted to think that John had told Sam that if he went out the door to never come back in an attempt to shock the youngest Winchester, that it would make him reel enough to think over college and start to focus on what really mattered in their lives. Instead the teenager had taken it as an invitation to walk away and not worry about looking back.
He was sure when his dad had enough time to calm down he would pick up the phone and call, smooth things out. Arguments happened all the time, but apologies did too. It was so obvious to Dean how much John loved Sam, even favored him for being so smart and able-bodied, the best of both worlds. It's why he'd devoted so much of his time protecting Sam, keeping him out of the life for as long as possible so he could have a normal childhood for as long as they could manage. Dean had had that ripped away from him so early, and John had done so much to keep the same fate from falling on Sam's shoulders too quickly. It made sense that he was hurt by the fact his youngest son didn't even appreciate it. Again, while John said hot things to Sam all the time, he often would try to smooth things over later and his son usually let him even if the thoughts of a normal life never left him.
At most, Dean gave it another month. A few more weeks and heads would be cool enough to grab the phone and get back in contact with his runaway son and make up enough to bring him home. If college was so important, online courses were available, and cheaper too. Even if Sam had managed to get a full ride from Standford for his pre-law classes, he still needed to buy food, supplies, and of course salt and other materials to keep himself safe. He surely wouldn't be dumb enough to go so native into the civilian lifestyle that he'd leave himself exposed to the threats out there. Things would get hard on his little brother soon, too young and inexperienced to take care of himself. They'd both calm down, someone would call, compromises would get hashed out and Sam would be back with his family where he could be looked after and kept safe.
For now though, it seemed Dean had to keep an eye on his dad and see to his well being. He wasn't sure if this trip to Kansas was a good thing or not. He'd put down good money that it was all because John missed his youngest son and needed something to connect himself back to their shared past, even if it was just a state line with Lawrence still being a good two hundred plus miles away. It was obviously close enough, but it crawled in the back of the young man's mind that something felt wrong about their need to be there that didn't have a damn thing to do with any man-eating monster. There was no way to tell yet if this would make things better or worse for John, so now Dean needed to be hyper aware of the man's mental state, observe every little clue he could until they got out of Great Bend and Kansas was in their rear view mirror. Hell, he'd probably watch him for a long time even after, just to be safe. John needed a good son covering his back, even if he'd never admit it, they both knew Dean's role in this family was to keep them together, sane and safe.
Not that he'd been able to do that with Sammy, so he needed to buckle down and work even harder to do his job for his dad.
He'd been told to go out and get something for dinner for the two of them, but he was still getting everything together. His dad had let him go at the shower first, and in his haste to strip out of the filthy clothing, he'd tossed his wallet aside somewhere in the room. He'd been too eager to get the muddy clothe off of him, drying to his skin, leaving him feeling itchy and gross. The last thing he'd cared about was the worn leather wallet being pulled out of his pants pocket and tossed aside. Of course, now he actually did need to find it along with the car keys that John had put down somewhere in order to get something for dinner. Luckily it wasn't too late in the evening so he was in no real rush for fear of any diners being closed for some ordering out.
It was the ringing of John's phone that led him to where he needed to look, for the keys at least. The items had been put away in the bedside dresser drawer, arranged neatly and safe, along with the journal. His eyes lingered on the phone, seeing a number he didn't recognize on the small screen of the little gray flip-phone. It was an uncommon occurrence. Anyone who had access to any of the man's several phone numbers was known to John. He rarely put down names in the contact lists, just in case it fell into the wrong hands and could lead back to people he knew, but there was usually something programmed in. A location, town or state, or some profession of some kind typed in the place where a name would normally be. John had a list of 'Hunter #1' to 'Hunter #27' on just one of his phones.
Here though, there was nothing, no name, location or any kind of hint of who could be calling. Which meant someone had his dad's phone number and the man didn't know who it would be. Perhaps something benign like a telemarketer, but it could also be someone who had gotten the number from another hunter. In that case it would be either someone looking for help or some kind of trap.
John was still in the shower, and Dean felt it was best to let the voicemail get it. However, after it had reached the final ring it was quiet again for only a few moments before it started up again. Clearly whoever was trying to get in touch had hung up when they'd gotten a recording of a voice instead of the real thing in order to try again. He couldn't ignore it a second time, picking it up and flipping it open to see what was going on. Someone might be in real trouble, and in those kind of cases, time was usually of the essence where even mere seconds could count between life and death.
"Hello?" he asked, not willing to betray anything just yet. Best to keep his words short and scope out the situation first.
The response was not what he'd been expecting, a soft and somewhat soft-spoken but eager voice answering him back in a similar questioning tone.
"Dad? Dad, is that you?"
"What?" he found himself passing back to the mysterious voice. He'd been a little surprised by those words, momentarily knocking him off guard.
"Dad, I found your number in Mom's bedroom. She had it tucked away in her desk drawer. I begged her forever to call you, but she kept refusing so I found it myself. My name is Adam and I live at-"
"Adam! What in the world are you doing?! Give me that phone right now!"
The hunter could only reel as he heard scuffling and the far off sound of the protesting voice of a child, yelling something about this not being fair. This had to be a wrong number, a mistake of some kind. He himself had only uttered two words in this conversation but clearly the next two needed to be good bye.
"John, oh god I am so sorry," a woman said in a quick and frantic tone over the line. "I never wanted to bother you with this, I swear. You have to be busy with your own life, your own responsibilities to worry over a child you had with a woman you knew over the course of a weekend. I didn't want to hide this from you, but you said all those things about only being around for a day or two before leaving and I just couldn't drag you into this in good conscience. Adam just… he's in that phase where he wants to know more about you and he must have found the number I had for your phone. I didn't even know if it'd still be in service. I mean… it's been over a decade since we've even talked to one another. God… John, say something. Please, anything. I swear this isn't some ploy to get anything out of you. I know this is a shock but your silence is starting to scare me."
"Uh… y-yeah," Dean croaked, feeling like his world was falling out from underneath of his feet. This wasn't real. This couldn't be real. The boggart had kept him underwater when it'd dragged him down under, and he was drowning. The lack of oxygen had gotten to his brain, causing it to come up with some ridiculous nightmare about some third kid that his dad apparently had, only not really because he couldn't have another kid because clearly Dean was just drowning. "This is… this is Dean."
For a moment there was silence, and he had to wonder if the call had ended before a mortified voice weakly replied.
"Dean? Not… not John? Oh no, the number must have changed. I'm sorry, my son was calling for John Winchester because he thought… You know what, it doesn't matter. I'm so, so sorry for bothering you. I'll just be hanging up now. Again, I'm sorry for this. Good bye."
"Wait, I'm Dean Winchester!" he found himself crying out before he could even think about anything else. He didn't even know why he was panicking. The phone would save the number. Even if she hung up he could call back, but she might not answer. The kid might though. What had been his name? Aden or something? It didn't matter. He wasn't risking not being able to get through on this line again, not when he could get answers now. "John Winchester is my dad."
"He has another son?"
A couple of them, but no need to get into that right now.
"Yeah. He's in the shower right now, so I answered for him."
"And I just unloaded all of that on you. Dean, I am so sorry about all of this. This must be such a shock to you," she breathed.
The hunter had to wonder how many times she was going to apologize but he had to admit this was a very strange situation for everyone involved.
His dad was lucky, away in the bathroom where he didn't have to be the one dealing with all of this.
"Look, um, why don't you leave your information and I'll let Dad know you called as soon as he's done washing. He can get back in contact with you when he's finished. What's your name?"
"Kate, Kate Milligan and my son… our son is named Adam. I know this is a lot to take in, but please stress to your father I don't expect anything from him. I know this isn't fair to have dumped into his lap."
It also wasn't fair to keep it from him for who knew how long, but that didn't seem to have stopped her.
"Right, I'll let him know the second he's available," he assured her before hanging up. His throat was starting to feel tight and dry so he grabbed a water bottle from the little mini fridge they'd stocked some basics in and chugged it down. It barely helped and he didn't feel much better, but it was still less worse than it had been a few moments ago.
It wasn't much longer until John was out of the bathroom, and thank crap for it, because another ten seconds and Dean would have been climbing the walls in stress. As it was he felt like a barely contained spring, ready to launch out any second in a nonaligned bout of energy.
"Dean, you're still here? You can't have left and gotten back with the food so-"
"What the hell is wrong with you?!" Dean cried out, half flustered but also half in anger. He had never, ever spoken to him this way. Yelling at John was what Sammy did, accusations and deep seated anger about their family was strictly an issue his little brother had. Only this was too big, too huge for Dean to keep calm about. Hell, he couldn't even wrap his head around it. It was all too much and if he spent another minute thinking about it without being able to say anything then he was going to go completely nuts. He was clearly starting to crack already.
John though, completely cool, just stared hard at Dean. The older brother was raised as a soldier, expected to give respect and act accordingly. John never yelled at Dean because he didn't need to. A whisper from the man was enough to get his eldest to listen.
Any other day it would have worked like a charm, but monster killing basic training had been a long time ago and had never covered things like additional surprise siblings.
"Who's Kate Milligan?" he asked immediately, knowing it was his only chance of getting answers. He needed his father off his game, bewildered and confused enough to make a mistake and let something slip. Especially since he himself was feeling the exact same way. He had no chance of winning a conversation between them if he was flustered and his dad was in control of himself.
Luckily it seemed to do the trick. Confusion flashed over the man's features but recognition did as well, dashing any hope that this was just some mistake. He knew the woman, and if that much was true any lingering odds that the rest was a lie or some trick was getting smaller and smaller by the second. After all, his dad was sharp, but knowing the name of some woman he'd apparently met over a decade ago seemed very remote unless something important had passed between them.
"It doesn't matter," he answered after a minute. "You don't need to know anything about that."
"Yeah, well she has a son and apparently the both of them think you're the dad, so it seems like I might need to know something," he replied. Inertia was carrying him through right now. Dean was obedient. Dean was the good son. He didn't argue, didn't talk back and he certainly didn't carry on matters after he was told to drop them. He could already feel himself starting to lose it, the air in his chest wanting to deflate, to carry all of this strength of will away and let him sink comfortably back into the role he was used to.
That would be then. For now, he was not letting this drop so easily.
Maybe it was the fact he was unused to Dean verbally fighting back or just how unusual the situation was, but it was all it took for the man to cave. A surprise really. He'd seen him go hours with Sam, never budging an inch. He was glad for it though. It was late, Dean was sore and tired, and this needed to be resolved now. Bruises, scratches and a bite mark or two still littered his skin, and he'd be all too happy to just get a couple of burgers, eat, settle down and then sleep away his exhaustion and pain, but a bombshell like this couldn't be ignored, even by people as determined as the Winchesters who did not believe in delving into emotional issues.
"It was a hunt about thirteen years ago, back in January in 1990," he explained. "I was alone except for a cop. He'd never seen anything like what we had to hunt so I was doing most of the heavy lifting. It got too close before it was taken out, and he had to get me to the hospital and use a cover story I had been out camping and hunting when I'd gotten into an accident. She was a nurse there, the one to patch me up."
"Oh, and you didn't think to grab some condoms while you were there?" Dean snarked at him.
"Watch your mouth, boy. I know how many girls you love to slink off to like some alley cat in the middle of the night, and I have never said a word about it because I know you're a man who can take care of yourself," John said in a warning tone.
Dean didn't push it, but the words hadn't changed his mind either. In fact, it had only reinforced it. He was in his early twenties and he certainly knew better. How was it he was the son here and he still had to act like the parent? If his dad had said he'd had one, or she'd been on the pill or something it would have helped. At least then John would have tried, but the fact he wasn't saying anything along those lines was coming close to confirming the accusation. It hadn't confirmed it exactly but it hadn't made Dean wrong either. An infuriating and worrying prospect. Were there other little brats running around because the hunter hadn't bothered to suit up?
For fuck's sake, Dean knew he himself would never make such a mistake. A kid you didn't even know about being out there somewhere, and a teenager to boot? Talk about an impossible situation to handle, all because someone couldn't take an extra minute to be careful. He'd never let that happen.
"This might be a trap," John mused. "I wish I'd been the one to answer, so I could have confirmed some details with her to see if she really was who she said she was. You should have gotten me the second the phone rang."
The winds were starting to leave Dean's sails. He wasn't made to argue against his dad, nor really stand up for himself with him either. He'd made one too many smart ass comments already and this whole thing was starting to drain him big time. He didn't agree with the assessment that somehow made this situation his fault, but nor could he bring himself to deny it either.
John Winchester had another kid out there somewhere, and it was his eldest son's fault for not taking the phone to him in the shower? Dean considered himself pretty sharp in his job but this didn't feel like some well laid out trap or plan by some devious monsters. He didn't deserve the blame.
Then again, he might be too shocked by the news to think clearly. His dad was a superhero, an amazing hunter, of course he wouldn't let something like this make him lose his edge and paranoia. Of course he'd doubt.
Maybe… maybe Dean should have given his dad the phone. If it had been an emergency or danger then John would have needed to know immediately anyway, and he would have been in a better position to figure out if something was amiss. The younger Winchester didn't know this woman at all, had never even heard of her. How would he have known what to ask her to confirm her identity or intentions? What if he'd just allowed himself to get manipulated into telling John what she wanted him to hear, just enough to dangle a line and lure him into some kind of trap?
She had been close enough to see the kid with the phone and grab it away. It would stand to reason she'd been in the room the whole time instead of just coincidentally walking it and noticing what the child was doing. If that was the case then it would also make sense that the whole thing had been staged for some reason.
What if the kid was being used or was a monster himself? Hell, what if a kid under the name Adam Milligan didn't even exist and he'd been suckered in like a naive sap out on his first hunt? To think he was acting like some dumb newbie, the kind that still wandered around in the woods with a shotgun looking for Bigfoot and swearing to everyone and anyone that aliens existed and were on Earth abducting people for probing.
Thank god he had his dad to keep him thinking straight and knock sense into him when he required it. He really needed to get sharper about their line of work and more prepared for things like this. He'd be dead ten times over without John and his training.
"So what do we do, sir?" he asked, knowing he needed direction in this now. His dad was smart. He'd have a plan. He always did. All Dean needed was to hear and know his orders.
"We go there and check this out. No calls," John instructed immediately. "She won't know we're coming. Take her by surprise just in case, if you haven't already tipped our hand that far."
"No sir. I just said I'd tell you, nothing else," he assured him. "I mentioned you'd call back, but she was talking a lot about how you didn't have to if you didn't want to and she's not expecting anything out of you."
"Well that's something at least. Get your stuff, wherever you threw it around at. I want us out the door in ten minutes and on the road. She's located in Windom, up in Minnesota, or at least she used to be. If she's moved since then we can track her new address when we get there. We'll grab food on the way," John ordered before grabbing his bag to start packing up.
Dean mentally calculated the distance between the town and where they were in his mind. It would take about eight hour to get there, though less if they floored the gas pedal and ignore the speed limit. It would be dark the whole way there, not a lot of cars in the way so an hour shaved off shouldn't be too difficult, especially if they drove in shifts so the other could rest. Morning would be right around the corner when they arrived one way or the other.
Still, in all the orders and obedience, a small seed was planted in Dean's gut. A white hot little nugget of anger that would not cool even if it was deeply buried at the moment.
If this wasn't a trap, if this was true, then his dad had another kid. A little preteen brat that had suddenly seen fit to shove himself into their lives without any thought about what kind of upheaval it would do to them. In the back of his mind, he knew it was stupid to be mad at the kid, that it was not his fault two adults had decided to tangle themselves up in the horizontal tango, but being mad at his father wasn't working out and this anger had to go somewhere.
Adam seemed as good a target as any other to his unthinking, unreasonable rage. Because Dean had a brother already, he had Sammy, even tucked away in college and hidden away from hunting. He'd walked away, not ceased to exist, and no soft-spoken voice on a phone was going to replace his little brother.
End of Chapter
This was… interesting to write, especially the end. I'm not one of the fans that regard John Winchester as the worst parent ever. I think with the circumstances he was given by fate he did his best, even if he made massive mistakes concerning secrets and his kid's emotional needs, but he does love his sons. On the other hand, there is no denying he treated Dean like a soldier and was not shy about the less than complimentary remarks towards his son when it seemed like he'd messed up. Just the things he said about the Impala near the end of season 1 was enough to confirm that.
So, yeah, wouldn't expect him to be cuddly father of the year here. He's just going to be John with all the good and the bad that comes with it. On the other hand, enjoy a less experienced and hardened Dean. His emotions are all over the place but he's got a good heart.