A/N: Okay, so some of you asked for a second chapter. I wasn't really sure I wanted to post another part because I thought it should have ended where it did, but for some reason, I started playing the whole thing in my head, and came up with this. So that's the second chapter, and there are two more, once I actually write them down. I do warn you, there will be some tissues needed, especially later on as the story develops. I guess I should have renamed it 'I hate John'… Anyway, please tell me what you think, and if you even want me to post the rest of this story, or if I should have kept it a oneshot. Hope you enjoy!
Chapter two: Daddy's home
Three days have passed, and still, John hadn't come home to his sons. The money he had left behind had run out. Dean had no idea what to do. The only thing he knew for sure was that he had to protect Sammy. They had to stay together. The youngest Winchester must never know the truth. For Sam, there would be food, there would be hope that dad was just taking more time on his hunt and would come home any moment. Dean never let his little brother see him cry. He was a man. Men don't cry. Even when his stomach wouldn't stop growling and Sam kept complaining he was tried of eating spaghetti all the time. He had sent Sam to bed two hours before his bedtime, because when they were asleep, they didn't feel as hungry.
On the fourth day, Dean came to pick Sam up after school, as he had always done. It broke his heart when Sam walked his way, the smile that usually adorned his chubby face gone, replaced by a sad, puppy-eyes, look.
Sam was scared. He didn't understand why dad didn't come back. He kept asking Dean if he had done something wrong, and that's why dad didn't come home. He kept asking Dean if dad was angry with them for not training as much as he had wanted. Dean kept denying it, kept reassuring his little brother that everything was all right. It was just that the hunt must be taking longer than dad had anticipated, Dean lied, trying to make his little brother feel better. Sam would nod his head, going back to his homework, and Dean would do his best to stay strong, for his brother's sake.
Dean smiled as Sam neared him.
"Guess what, Sammy?" he asked.
"Daddy's back?" Sam asked quickly, hope igniting in his eyes. Dean fought to keep smiling.
"I have something for you." he said instead, reaching inside his schoolbag and taking out a large brown paper bag. "I know I forgot to give you lunch money today," the older brother said, giving the paper bag to the younger. "So I got you this. Come on, eat up, I know you're hungry." Dean encouraged him. Sam looked inside the bag, making a face.
"It's tuna. I don't like tuna sandwiches!" he protested.
"But that's all they had!" Dean said irritably. He had to get in a fight to get that lunch from one of the kids in his class. He got himself in trouble with the headmistress, again. He had that wonderful smelling food in his schoolbag all day, and he didn't touch it, so that Sammy would have something to eat. "Look, you can just scrape the tuna off. And there's an apple and a banana in there, too." Dean added, taking the edge off his last words. Sam reached in and took the apple, biting it ravenously.
"You want the banana?" Sam offered as they made their way down the street.
"No, it's okay, Sammy. I already ate." Dean lied. "If you don't want it now, just save it for later." He added.
"Well, tomorrow don't forget to give me money for lunch." Sam said. Dean glanced at his brother.
"I won't." he promised. It would be a difficult promise to keep, but it was one Dean had every intention of keeping. He will find a way to get Sam the money, even if it meant getting into more trouble. Dad wasn't there to punish him for it, was he? Had he been there, I wouldn't have to get in trouble in the first place, Dean thought to himself.
Dean's heart missed a beat when he put his hand on the doorknob of their motel room. Something wasn't right. He couldn't put his finger on it, but every instinct he had, every instinct his dad had instilled him with, told him there was something wrong. Some danger he couldn't name.
"Sammy, you wait here." He said, pushing Sam back a little.
"Why?" Sam demanded, shifting his weight from one leg to the other. "I have to go to the bathroom."
"Just wait here, Sammy, would you?" Dean snapped. He searched feverishly in his schoolbag for his little pocket knife. His heart hammering, he took it out and unlocked the door. "Stay here where I can see you." he instructed his little brother, and pushed the door open, knife held fast. Dean glanced at Sam, took a deep breath, and entered the room. And then his heart missed yet another beat.
"Dad!" he cried with surprise.
"Hi, kiddo. Where's your brother?" John asked, a smile on his face. But Dean didn't get the chance to answer. Hearing his brother's cry, Sam shot inside the room, running for his father, and hugged him tightly. Sam was so overjoyed to have his father back, he didn't notice when John flinched. He didn't see the pain in his father's eyes, or his gritted teeth. But Dean did.
"Didn't you say you had to go to the bathroom?" he asked.
"I'm so glad you're back, daddy. I was real worried about you." Sam said, letting go of his father. John smiled at him. "Why do you always call when I'm asleep?" he demanded. "Dean made me go to sleep early. I didn't want to, but he said I had to!" Sam accused.
"You should listen to your brother, Sammy. He's trying to protect you." John said, glancing at his older son. Sam hugged him again, and then quickly ran to the bathroom, making John smile. He turned to his eldest son next.
"Dean," he said, but didn't know what else to say.
"Did the doctors say you're okay?" Dean asked in a small voice. John sighed. He wasn't sure his sons were aware of what had happened, at least, not until now.
"They said I still needed to rest." John said, and then kneeled in front of his son. "Everything is going to be alright." He said. Dean fought his tears back again, giving a light nod.
"I know." He said in a strangled voice.
"Daddy, I got an A on my test!" Sam said cheerfully, waving his test, wanting to make his father proud. John smiled.
"That's nice, Sammy. Listen, I've been up all night. I need to rest now. Could you two go do your homework or something, be quiet so I can rest?"
"Yes, sir." Dean said quickly, pulling Sam along. "Come on, Sammy, I'll help you with your homework, and then we'll work out a little, okay?"
Dean never told his father about the money running out. He didn't tell him about getting in a fight at school. He didn't even tell John that he had stolen some money off the register when he went to buy the pizza and the man wasn't looking. There was no point in telling his father that, he knew it would just get him in trouble, get dad angry. Dad was here now, that was all that mattered.
John had suspected something was amiss, though. He suspected it when he overheard Dean hushing Sam, saying they shouldn't bother dad because he needed his rest. He suspected even more when Dean gave his little brother such an angry glare for waking John up and asking that they all went out to dinner. Dean protested, saying John should just go back to sleep and he would take care of Sam, but John was just sure something was wrong. He tried asking his older son about it, but Dean denied anything was wrong. Sam had denied it, too, but John couldn't get rid of that feeling. Especially as he saw his sons finish up everything on their plates, vegetables included, in less than five minutes. Sam had asked for seconds. Both he and Dean cleared up those plates in less than ten minutes as well. He wondered why. He had left his boys with enough money, he was sure of that.
Dean said practically nothing during dinner, which usually meant he was either up to something, or trying to hide something. John decided to let it go, at least for tonight. Sam was doing enough talking for the both of them anyway, giving John a headache. They stopped at the grocery store on their way back to the motel, and as Dean went to get the much needed supplies, John treated himself to a bottle of scotch.
Dean stirred in bed. He had to go to the bathroom, but he really didn't want to get out of bed. Finally, he could hold on no longer, and rolled out of bed. He caught a glimpse of his father on his way back to bed. John seemed to have passed out, the empty bottle rolling out of his hand and onto the floor. Dean bit his lip. He promised, Dean thought. He didn't feel like going to sleep anymore. He walked back to the room he shared with his younger brother, hesitating. Sam was sleeping peacefully, blissfully unaware of everything that had happened. Of everything that will happen. Dean got back in bed, sitting with his back against the wall and pulling the covers up to his neck. Now he knew. Now he understood the reason for his father's foul mood in the last couple of days. Dean stared at the clock on the wall. It was nearly five in the morning. Twelve hours from now, he would turn fourteen.
Dean made sure to clear away his father's bottle before Sam woke up. He warned Sam to keep quiet and poured milk into his younger brother's cereal. He had to remind Sam to keep quiet several times. Sam just wouldn't shut up. He was so excited from the field trip he was going on. Dean listened to his brother's chatter all the way to Sam's school, and watched as his brother quickly made his way inside. Sam loved school. It seemed to come easy to him. He didn't even have any trouble making new friends wherever they went. Dean admired that about his brother, and did everything he could to help. He didn't really feel like going to school today, but he was already in trouble for getting in a fight, he couldn't risk getting expelled. His dad would get really angry if that happened.
The hours passed by lazily. They had two pop quizzes that day. Amazingly enough, he passed them both, even though he wasn't really paying attention in class. Dean could have sworn the day would never end. But eventually, it did. He grabbed his schoolbag and was the first out of his class. Someone called his name. He turned, and quickly wished he hadn't.
"Hi, Winchester, got the money?" the older kid asked.
"No," Dean admitted.
"No money, no goods. You know that." The kid said.
"I'll get the money." Dean promised.
"Yeah, whatever, man. You know where to find me." The kid said, and walked away. Dean bit his lip. He really wished he had had the money. It could have been a great birthday present. Sighing, Dean walked over to pick Sam up from school. Sam ran up to him, all excited about the field trip. He didn't stop talking all the way back to the motel room.
"Dean!" Dean's heart shrunk.
"Sammy, go start working on your homework." Dean said quickly. Sam looked up at his older brother questioningly. "Go, Sammy!" Dean said urgently. The younger boy sighed and disappeared in their room.
"Dean, you'd better get here, now!" his father yelled. Dean swallowed. John had been cranky ever since he got back from the hospital. He didn't get whatever it was he was hunting, and it annoyed him, made him mad. Dean quickly obeyed his father's bidding. "What's that I hear about you getting in a fight in school?" John demanded. Dean lowered his eyes, saying nothing. "I asked you a question!" John snapped. Swallowing, Dean still offered no answer. "Are you trying to get yourself kicked out of school? Do you like getting in trouble?" John demanded. "I asked you a question!" he yelled when Dean failed to answer once more.
"No, sir." Dean said in a small voice.
"No dinner." John said harshly. "Go work out." He ordered.
"I have homework." Dean said in a small voice, but the look in his father's eyes told him this was not the right answer. "Yes, sir." He said obediently and went over to his father's bedroom, where he had kept all the workout equipment.
Dean sat on the bed, looking at the time. It was almost eight o'clock at night. His stomach growled. He hadn't had a thing to eat since lunch, and he had been working out since he got home from school. He still had homework to do, but he doubted he would actually do them. He wiped the sweat from his brow and went back to his workout. John came in not long after that. He looked at the sweat on his son's body with content.
"Go wash up." He said.
"Yes, sir." Dean said, walking over to the bathroom. He sat in the shower, letting the water run over him, thinking. His father was angry. Worse, his father was angry, and drinking. And still wounded. Dean figured his dad must be angry because the creature got away, and frustrated because he wasn't strong enough to do anything about it just yet. Maybe, if he got the creature, dad would relax. Maybe he wouldn't be so frustrated, and then he wouldn't drink so much, Dean thought. But his dad wasn't well enough to go after the creature just yet. Dean got to his feet, turning the water off and getting out of the shower. He had a plan now. He would make it better, and then his father won't be so angry, and Sam won't ask him all those annoying questions he couldn't answer. Getting dressed, Dean walked out of the bathroom. His father was sitting in front of the TV, flipping through channels. There was a bottle right next to him. Dean bit his lip. He started his way towards his father's bedroom.
"Dean!" Dean stopped at once.
"Yes, sir?" he asked in a small voice.
"You brushed your teeth?"
"Yes, sir." Dean answered quickly. His father turned to look at him.
"Straight to bed." His father ordered in a harsh tone. Dean nodded and started his way to his bedroom, only to stop a few steps later and glance back at his father. John had gone back to flipping channels. Dean swallowed. Walking quickly, quiet as a mouse, he turned to his father's bedroom. Glancing over his shoulder, his heart hammering, Dean reached his hand under his father's bed and pulled the duffle bag out. He glanced over his shoulder again, his hands shaking. He rummaged through the bag, not exactly knowing what he needed. Finally, he grabbed his father's large hunting knife. He considered taking a nine-millimeter, too, but quickly ruled it out. He might miss and hurt someone. Besides, a nine millimeter would be harder to hide under his shirt. Shoving the duffle bag back under his father's bed, Dean tip-toed back to his bedroom.
"You didn't do your homework." Sam noted as Dean walked in.
"I know, Sammy." Dean said, getting in bed, the cold steel of the knife pressing against his back. Sam sat up in his own bed.
"You want me to tell you about what Suzie did today at the field trip? It was hilarious." Sam said, trying to cheer his brother up. Dean smiled at him.
"Maybe tomorrow, sport. You'd better go to sleep." He said.
"You hungry?" Sam asked, "I snuck some cereal when dad wasn't looking."
"No, Sam. I'm not really hungry." Dean said, and for once, he wasn't lying. Sam looked at him for a moment, and then shrugged.
"Okay then." He said, rearranging his pillow. "Night, Dean."
"Night, Sammy." Dean replied, watching his little brother pulling his covers up and closing his eyes. Sam wouldn't have to worry about dad being angry. Not for long. He shouldn't be worried about such things anyway. That's what grown-ups were for.