Anyone who thought parenting was a walk in the park needed their head examined. 'Nam had been easier than raising two boys on his own. He questioned every one of his decisions, second-guessed every last choice he made, and never felt he did right by them.
Most days ended with him seated at a table with a bottle of whatever on his right, books on the left, and his head between his hands.
He wholeheartedly admitted he didn't have any idea about what made a man a good father. His own father up and left when he was four. He never met his paternal grandfather. His dad told him he died in a fire right after he and his mom got married.
Gramps — as he called his mother's father — did his best to teach him all he needed to know about being a man, but he never explained what made a man a good father. He didn't have any uncles to ask those questions of or to model his own behavior after.
He was full-grown by the time his mom remarried. He didn't have any need for a father at that point. Not that he could claim his step-dad was much of one. He tried, though. That's about all he could say. He tried his damndest. That had to count for something, right?
A dark, humorless chuckle escaped him. Yeah, it was a buncha bullshit, and he knew it.
"Dad?"
The concern in Dean's voice broke through his cloud of self-loathing and bitterness. John lifted his head to find him hovering by his left leg. Worry furrowed his brow and darkened his eyes. Mary's eyes, he thought as he sat back in his chair.
"Yeah, Dean?"
"You okay?"
"Yeah, I'm okay." He set a hand gently on Dean's shoulder. "Just tired is all."
He didn't tell Dean the truth. That he wanted Mary back. To his way of thinking, a good father didn't burden his six-year-old with his problems.
But then he wasn't a good father, was he?
A/N: Hello, all! Hope this finds you well!