Dean has feeling and John wants to actually hear about them. People always assume Dean was just a good Soldier who followed all Johns rules but i'm sure it was hard for him. What do you guys think? Did Dean always no matter what do as he was told?
Chapter 3: Chick flick moment?
John felt so exhausted and sat on the couch hearing Sammy's cries turn into sniffles once more. He got the kid off him, setting him gently on the couch and he stood up finding the ice, placing it on Sammy's bruised up knees. He gave Sammy the liquid ibuprofen with a glass of water and took a deep breath in. "Alright Sam, we will get you in the shower and in pajamas soon. Use the RICE technique we learned when I showed you boys first aid treatment." He smiled down at his son. John slowly moved to the window looking out at Dean in the yard and grimaced.
Teenagers, he thought to himself and knew he'd being laying down the law with Dean as soon as the kid was showered. He wondered if something was maybe bothering Dean because even if it were teenage hormones causing a rebellion, this really wasn't like the boy. Dean always followed orders and never talked back. His boy was trustworthy, especially when it came to Sammy's care.
"Dad, is it okay if I watch tv?" Sammy's voice small. John turned around looking at Sam and knew the kid may be hurt but he was supposed to be running laps. "Sorry kiddo, you are still in trouble and even though you're not running laps, I want you to practice some Latin." John walked towards his pile of books and got an encyclopedia in Latin, handing it to Sammy. "But….." he began whining but the look in Johns' eyes silenced him and he instead whispered out a yes sir.
John walked into the kitchen grabbing another glass of bourbon pouring in a thumb full and mixed it with unsweetened black tea. Whisking it with his index finger he walked past Sam, making his way to the porch swing. He sat down looking out at Dean and the heat hit him like the sun was cooking an egg. Wet, humid heat and he saw Deans blue t-shirt soaked with sweat. "How many?" John yelled out
Dean stopped, panting and bent forward trying to catch his breath. "15 sir," He shouted back. John felt a sting of pity for the boy, but he knew now that it was time to clamp down on him. He had always taught Dean obedience to follow orders and to obey John. He was upfront and honest with the boy, even when asked how Mary died at the tender age of 5. He had told Dean that monsters were real, and Demons existed. Dean just shook his head and told John he believed him. He showed him how to handle a gun when he was 8 and throw knives. He shot a crossbow at 10 and was amazing at hand to hand combat. Dean had memorized most exorcisms, even though he stumbled with the Latin occasionally.
He was Johns pride and joy when it came to hunting and taking care of Sammy. Dean was a natural hunter and one hell of a kid. He'd raised him to be a soldier and that when you messed up, there would be consequences. Those consequences sometimes were wounds but also death and punishments were handed out. John felt his heart constrict thinking his boy could die because he couldn't follow simple orders. So, he sat there and watched Dean finish his last five laps while Dean was sweating and spitting. John noted the spitting and yelled out, "Dean, where is your water?" Dean threw up his hands to indicate he didn't have any. "Damn it, Dean! In this heat you're going to get dehydrated and that is why you're spitting while running! Damn it!" John frustrated went back into the house and checked on Sammy on his way to the kitchen. "I'm going to be outside with Dean for a little while, so when I get back in here, you better be able to speak some Latin." Sammy looked up and saw Johns gray shirt was drenched in sweat and a scowl on his face. He quickly said yes sir and got back to reading. John grabbed Dean a glass of water with ice and gripped his bourbon with the water in his hands. His heavy black boots marched through the house and he sat back down on the porch swing. Dean finished the last lap, looking up at John for approval to stop and John nodded his direction.
Dean sauntered over smelling of salt and sweat, trying to avoid eye contact with John. His old black running shoes stepping up the rickety porch steps towards the screen. He started to open the screen door when John reached over grabbing Deans right wrist tightly. "Why don't you stay a moment and let us have a little chat? Also, you need to drink this god damn water, so you don't get heat sick." John growled out. Deans eyes grew large as sweat rolled off his pinkened freckled face, "Yes sir, should I tell Sammy to hit the shower?" He mumbled out.
"Nope, he's fine practicing some Latin while we figure out what's been going on with you." John patted the bench next to him and Dean rolled his eyes. "Like a chick flick moment?" He walked over sitting next to his Dad and sat on his wet sweat pants. They got drenched in the run and all he wanted to do was a shower, even though he dreaded what would come after that.
John lightly chuckled, "You ever see a chick flick end with a whipping? Because if you have, we need to have a different kind of talk." If possible, Deans cheeks blushed a warm red and he buried his face in his hands. John cleared his throat, "All right then, here's what I got. You didn't follow orders, and you have been picking on your brother. I asked earlier if you got the supplies and instead of answering me, you pointed to the table. You've been talking back and that's not like you Son. You didn't even get yourself water when running in this heat! To make it worst you can't even bother to answer me when I ask you about it. Just threw your hands up like you were talking to a buddy. I really depend on you to take care of your brother and to keep him safe. I expect you to set a good example for him and I feel my trust slipping away from you Dean." John had a sad sorrow to his voice.
Dean gripped his white t-shirt and tried to let the anger go through his fingers. He'd always done anything and everything John wanted him to do, like training, taking care of Sammy. He admitted to himself that he even loved hunting and the adrenaline he got when killing the baddies. Yet, he had this feeling in the pit of his stomach he couldn't shake lately, that he was missing out on pieces of life.
Hadn't he given enough? When would there be more than drills and sacrifice for his family? A beautiful girl, in the last town they were in, had asked him to grab a pizza at a local joint. Could he go? Nope, cuz Dad was on a hunt and he was on Sammy duty. Ugh, but then he remembered the last time he was in trouble, it was the Shtriga incident and his heart dropped. He told himself that night, that he'd never ever put anything before Sammy and he'd never disappoint John again. So, getting pizza with a hot girl was out of question because that would have been selfish, wouldn't it? To not protect his little brother and go out on a date instead.
John stared at Dean for a few minutes and noticed an internal conflict in his eyes. John put his rough, sweaty calloused hand, on the back of Deans sunburned neck, "Well Kid, any thoughts?" Dean knew no matter what he said he'd never get out of the painful whipping he had coming, but Dad never yelled at him for speaking his mind. Granted that he didn't use curse words and he didn't hide behind his smart-ass remarks.
"Sometimes," Dead shifted uncomfortably at Johns gaze, "I know this is the family business and I really like hunting Dad, I do. But I also want to experience things like let's say for example dating." He shrugged. John felt on the tip of his tongue his disdain of his son's confession because saving lives was way more important than a date. Taking care of his brother and training were more important than a stupid date. He felt his anger simmering below the service but took a deep breath in and sipped his bourbon-tea.
"Well son, lead this horse to water, because what does that have to do with anything I listed earlier? Wanting to go on dates?" John asked sternly. Dean knew that voice, the one where Dad was trying to be a good sport about things but really was irritated with Dean. "Well, it's just sometimes, I just, I know it's my job to look out for Sammy and to follow orders. But isn't it my job to be a kid too Dad? Like to watch movies, have friends and go on dates with hot girls? I get frustrated sometimes because Sammy nags me all the time and he requires my full attention. When the Shtriga attacked him, I had only left for a couple minutes to get a soda. I know we talked about that Dad, I do, I mean your belt mostly did the talking and I know I messed up, but it's a lot of pressure. Sometimes, I just, wish things were different." Dean hurriedly wiped his eyes and looked down at the porch.
John wanted so much to coddle him and tell him what he wanted was normal. That maybe he handed out to stern of a punishment for the Shtigra incident, but he couldn't because this was their lives. Mistakes, even small ones got hunters killed and John just wanted to keep his boys alive. There was no room for mistakes and Dean knew that, especially after the Shtriga incident.
Dean didn't have to like it, but he always had to obey him and keep Sammy safe. John took his hand away from Deans sweaty neck and grunted. "Dean, those are your feelings, but they are not excuses to why you've been screwing off. Why you would tell Sammy he was a cry baby and the fact you've been back talking! Why you haven't been following my orders." John slapped his knee and got up, now peering down at Dean feeling like a bastard because he hated what he needed to say.
"Anything else." He grunted out. Dean looked up at his Dad and could see a serious look in his eyes an unforgiving look. "Sammy needs to toughen up a little Dad, he cries about everything and I…..I just want you to be my Dad. Not my drill Sargent anymore because this isn't the military." Deans voice caught in his throat and he cleared it. This killed John, breaking his heart and this moment would be the last time Dean ever told his true raw feelings to John. With that, John grabbed Deans arm pulling him up and in his right ear whispered to him, "Get your ass in the house and shower. Girls, fucking, friends that somehow gives you the right to disrespect me? Your brothers going to only be ten Dean, he doesn't need to toughen up just yet! You disrespect our family, so you can be selfish? So, you can get what you want!?" John yelled shaking Deans arm hard in his grip.
"No sir, I'm sorry sir. You're right sir." Dean quickly rambled out. He hadn't seen his Dad this mad in ages and regretted telling the truth. Johns breath was hot on Deans ear and he whimpered because he just wanted to get the whipping done with. He knew he'd have Johns forgiveness after, and they could eat supper together. John let go of Deans arm pulling away to see his sons' eyes glossed over, he hated himself. Because he did that, made his son want to cry and knew in 10 minutes he'd have his son howling at the moon.