AN: I don't own Supernatural, or any of its characters, obviously. I might wish that I did...but I don't. le sigh
What Was He Doing?
Dean was scared and John knew it. Hell, the banshee knew it too. Kinda hard not to, when the kid was damn-near shaking as he raised the gun.
No sudden movements, John had told him. Don't do anything that would make her scream or it was all over. John watched as Dean looked back at him, eyes pleading. They said so much without even one words and it tore at John's heart to see that expression.
Please Dad, don't make me do this, they said. Christ...what was he doing to his boy?
But Dean had to learn, he told himself, no matter how much it killed him to think it, Dean had to do this on his own. So he watched as the banshee hovered close by. Watched as Dean aimed the gun.
Watched as Dean pulled the trigger one second too early.
John reacted with almost cat-like reflexes, grabbing the gun from Dean's shaking hands and raising it, just as the bitch opened her mouth.
"Cover your ears!" John ordered. "Get back to the car! You warn Sam too, Dean! Go!"
He didn't see Dean's reaction, but he knew that he had followed his order. Good. Because he didn't want his boys anywhere near this thing when she started to-
His thoughts were ripped apart as the sonic screech hit his ears and for a moment he thought his head was going to explode from the noise. But John was ready for her, and quickly rolled to the side, pulling the trigger. The specialized bullet piercing her throat. The noise stopped almost instantly and John got up, towering over his kill. "Don't yell at my boy like that," he said simply to the corpse.
It was twenty minutes before John made his way back to the car, after taking all the proper precautions to dispose of the body. He smiled as he saw the two faces peering out at him from the backseat of the car, and rather than slide behind the steering wheel, he opened the back door and sat down, chuckling as he accepted the hug that little Sammy gave him.
"You boys covered your ears?" he asked them.
"Yes sir!" they replied in unison, and he grinned.
"Good boys," he said, ruffling up Sam's hair and getting out, to reclaim his spot in the driver's seat. Dean peered at him with apologetic eyes and John patted the passenger side seat before his oldest son could speak a word.
"How about you come ride shotgun tonight, Dean?" he said, watching Dean's eyes light up. He smiled at him, waiting for everyone to get settled before starting the car and driving away.
The smell of fire wafted through the night sky, and he glanced in the rearview mirror at Sam, who had already begun to drift to sleep. Dean was struggling to stay awake, but John could see that sleep was taking over. He popped in a tape and smiled at Dean, who have him back a sleepy smile before snuggling down in the seat.
He heaved a sigh and kept his eyes on the road, giving his head a light shake. Jesus...what was he doing to his boys?