It had been several days since the fire alarm ordeal and the Winchester's were still stuck in the same old, cruddy, and smelly motel. Two weeks had past from the time when they had arrive and John had just about hustled all he could out of the small town and its neighboring cities. By this time, Sam had badgered Dean's ear off asking about where they were, why they were there, and a truckload of other 'why's' that always found a way to pop into a seven-year-old's mind.
Dean swiped a local map from the motel's lobby, giving it to Sam. Finally the boys determined where they were: Lockland, Colorado. The map actually interested the boy for more than a few minutes; it lasted him all of yesterday. He would move from the chair to the bed than to the bed to the floor, just staring at the map. All the words fascinated him; his beloved books in the Texas house weren't able to come with except for: (book), which was his favorite series. After reading those everyday, three times a day, they would become boring, so new material was always welcome. Dean received the distraction with open arms.
Today, however, found the boys in a different light. During the days, John usually could be found sleeping or researching, but on this morning when Dean woke up, he saw his father holding Ben on his lap.
"Dad?" Dean asked, getting up from the bed before moving quickly to the bathroom.
"Hey, son," nodded John. Looking up briefly to see the bathroom door wide open and his eldest son standing over the toilet. Grinning, he went back to Ben, having the 'that's my boy' moment. Although Dean kept quiet, he never shied away from his own skin, or Sam's for that matter. If he had to take a leak, it had to go – didn't matter where he was.
"Dad," Dean muttered again, "What are you doing here?"
"What? You don't like it?" John smirked. No, I love it dad! Dean beamed, I can't say that though. When it was just Sam and Dean (and now Ben), the eleven year old never was at a loss for words. Either a witty comment to an adult asking where his parents were, or an on-the-toe's story to the pestering motel manager, Dean always had something to say.
"It's okay," was all he could muster out. He rarely ever had words to say to his father. John laughed, which partly irked the pre-teen.
"I know you like being in charge. That's good, though, Dean." Why is dad laughing? Is it over? 'It', being the revenge on behalf of his mother. Dean let out a sigh of relief realizing his father too his reply as a joke.
"Yeah, it's alright bossy Sammy around," Dean said softly. Finally emerging from the bathroom door, he walked over to the table his father sat at and took the seat across from him.
"As long as you him safe, Dean." Ever since Dean could remember, his father told him to look after Sam and keep him from harm, but up until a lately it was never repeated so often. When Dean was four, keeping his brother safe meant kissing him on the head and pulling the child's blanket up over his body. He was eleven now, which meant more responsibility for the younger boy.
"I do, dad," Dean sighed, slightly annoyed which his father's command.
"Forever, Dean. Keep him safe tomorrow and the day after that and-"
"I know, dad. Protect Sammy first," Dean's eyes darted around the room nervously before feeling the older man's gaze upon him, "and forever."
Father and son shared the stare until it was uncomfortable and until Ben began making baby sounds - "Goo" and "Gah" and dribble-dribble-dribble. Dean got up and rummaged through the food boxes on the tiny counter. He found the cereal box and returned to his seat, stuffing his hand in the top opening.
"So, are you here 'cause we're leaving?" Dean had found himself comfortable once again with his father; it never took long for the two to fall back into their normal demeanor – or what their take on the word, being very far from the true definition.
"Not yet, in a few days." Dean raised his eyebrows and wrinkled his nose in the fashion of his younger brother. And? John had Ben on his lap, catchy the child's tiny hands in his and making silly faces to make the baby laugh. Hm… Dean was not impressed; you don't do that with Sammy.
"Because of Ben?" snarled Dean. He wanted to leave, too, and in all truthfulness the days were getting boring for him as well.
"Yeah because of Ben," John huffed, quickly shooting Dean a look for the tone he used, but also catching the hint his son threw out. He continued on, "He's different, you've noticed, right?" Dean only nodded; contrasting Sam, he always let his father lay all the cards out on the table before taking his turn. "The only time he's every screamed was when that fire alarm went off, and that happened once when you were a baby and you yelled bloody murder." Dean smiled; John didn't often reflect on Dean's younger years.
"Ben was asleep and seconds before the alarm went off, he woke up, like he sensed it was coming."
"Oh, okay, dad." The kid was a bit confused.
"The vibrations, Dean. And you figured out he only responds to you if you look at him face to face, right?" Dean nodded. "He should be able to know when his name is being called now, but whatever ruckus Sam gets into, it never makes Ben's head turn."
"Yeah, alright," Dean said. At only eleven, he didn't find the amazement in his father's discovery. He still didn't understand why there were still in the rustic, muddy town. "How come we're still in Lockland?"
"I made an appointment at this hospital; it's this afternoon. I want to see if Ben's going deaf, or his deaf." Oh, that's what he was trying to say, Dean realized. Ben can't hear.
"Gotcha, dad," smiled Dean.
"And doctor's cost money, money we don't have." John was always short with the words, always clear and to the point. Of course, unless he was dealing with Sam, than he was forced to speak more. The little boy was full of questions and opinions, which brought out more than just an order from the father. "If he is deaf, he'll need a hearing aid. And something like will send us a huge bill."
"Isn't that why we have pretend credit cards?" Although, Sam clearly held the brains in the family, Dean was quick to pick up on the sly way of life. He knew about the scams his father pulled. One time he found a card that read Mark Williams and inquired to John who's card it was; John than taught him the clever, but simple con.
"Right, son," John beamed. "But when doctor's put things in people, they keep a record of it; like when we scratched off the serial number on the Impala. The DMV keeps a record of that number, so they can always know whom the car belongs too. If Ben needs a hearing aid, we'll probably have to go to the doctor more than once, and we can't use a fake name, not pay, and than go back to get a repair. Get it?" Grimacing as he became conscious of how much work this new child was going to bed.
"Yeah, dad. We have to pay for his hearing aid with money." I think.
"That's my boy; you got the idea," smiled John. Little did Dean know, soon he would miss his father's smile even more.
"He's sleeping, again," Dean pointed at Ben. The child had drifted off to sleep; his little head across John's heart and his body slowly moving up and down with John's each and every breath.
"Yeah, well he was up before me. Woke up about 'round six-thirty to find this guy sitting up quietly, sucking on his blanket," John said. "Wake Sammy up, it's almost ten-thirty."
"Sure dad." Like every brother, Dean enjoyed waking up his sibling. Most of the time, the younger brother jumped on the older brother to wake him, though. Since, the fire, so many years before, Dean grew accustomed to waking up early; first by John dragging him out of bed, and than on his own accord. John usually would come in late from hunts, so it was Dean's job to get Sam breakfast and take them to school – that was in Texas.
By nature, Sam loved to sleep. Dean couldn't understand why because his nights were filled with fear. For the years following the fire in Lawrence, Dean would beg John to stay with him and Sam until they both fell asleep. At first, John didn't comply, until he met Missouri Mosley; who introduced the world of paranormal to the Winchesters'. It was than, John found the importance if protecting his children at night – truly protecting them. Dean often screamed, waking his sweat from a horrible nightmare. As he grew older, they stopped being every night and occurred only a few times a year. Still, Dean never found the joy in sleeping.
"Sammy," the older brother cried. "You can't sleep in all day! It's-" his eyes darted to the clock on the nightstand, "10:37!" Dad and I talked for an hour, didn't seem like it. Time did go fast when Dean ever shared a moment with John.
"Ehn," Sam mumbled. He still rested on his back, although, his arms were astray and the side of his face smushed into the pillow. Dean hopped on the bed.
"C'mon, Sammy. I'm hungry. Get up."
"Go 'way, Dean," grumbled Sam, pushing Dean's hand away from his face.
"I'll put your hand in water!" Dean squealed, sitting on Sam's stomach tickling the child all over. Sam's eyes shot open!
"Dean! NO!" Sam yelled at the threat. It was only that, however – a threat – the older brother used it repeatedly to get the younger brother up.
"Yeah," he continued to laugh and tickle his brother, who now was struggling to free himself from beneath the older boy. "I have to pee! Dean!" More laughter, Dean enjoyed this. "Daddy!"
John, slightly amused, now found the younger boy's cries aggravating – again, with his short of patience.
"Alright, Dean. Let him up," John asserted, placing Ben down on the bed to get his coat on and immediately picking the child up again. Muffled sounds of his younger son informed him that Dean did not get off Sam. "Dean!" he snapped. This time with enough force that Dean's head jerked to meet John's voice. Frowning, Dean complied.
"Fine, dad," he sighed. Sam bolted from his laying position to the bathroom.
"Thanks daddy!" the seven-year-old yelled, his voice muffled by the bathroom door. John rolled his eyes.
"Is he gonna be grumpy today?" John questioned. Dean knew Sam better than Sam probably knew himself; John always went to Dean when Sam's personality was at query.
"Nah," Dean began, moving to his backpack to change out of his pjs and into a pair of jeans and plaid shirt (matching his father). "He got like 10 hours of sleep, he'll be okay." He better be okay. If little Sammy didn't get enough sleep, it would for sure be hell for John Winchester. John's youngest could claim the sweetest child award effortlessly, along with taking the grumpiest child award with as much ease. Dean moved towards the bedroom door, scoffing when he found the door locked.
"Sam! Open up!" Dean knocked.
"No!"
"Come on, Sammy. I need to take another leak!"
"Dean," the younger boy tried his hardest to growl, "I'm using the bathroom. Wait your turn." Wait your turn? That's gonna get you beat up sometime, Sammy.
"We have the same parts, dude," Dean said, very a matter of fact. "I'll tell dad,"
"Ugh, fine." Sam opened the door. Haha, always works like a charm.
"You're not doing anything."
"I'm brushing my teeth. You have to too."
"Yeah, yeah." Dean went to the toilet, opening his zipper and doing his business without though.
"Ew, Dean!" Sam whined. Sam liked to be private and at seven that meant using the toilet alone.
"What?" Dean looked to Sam.
"I can see your pee-pee," blurted Sam with suds in his mouth. Finding no humor in Sam's statement, Dean shrugged. (Sam's declaration had no intent to entertain.)
"Sam," sighed Dean. "Don't call it that. We both have one and we see it all the time." Sam turned the other way, continuing to brush his teeth.
Damn, I really had to go. Sam turned back to Dean.
"I'm doing it right?" Sam asked. His full concern being on the way he brushed his teeth. He already forgot his mini boycott to avoid Dean's 'pee-pee' and stared at Dean waiting for an answer.
"Yeah, did you get the inside teeth and the one's all the way in the back?" Dean finished and zipped up his jeans. He moved to get his own toothbrush that Sam had insisted he get out the first night they were at the hotel. As Dean was always to protect Sam, Sam constantly brought Dean back to a sense of innocence and normality.
At the time they had left Texas, John was just starting to introduce Sam into the entire aspect of hunting, taking him out after school to train with Dean. Sam didn't know how it truly felt to be a hunter yet; Dean didn't either, having not been on a hunt yet, but he knew how to handle a gun and rifle and other weapons, he knew how to ward off evil spirits. John taught Sam the basics up until seven: how to kick and punch, what iron and salt really did (besides decorated the boys' beds), the difference between good and evil. Sam was an incredibly smart child, learning to speak and walk by age two; but his maturity level was still that of a child, which frustrated John as he tried to teach his youngest son skills of a demon hunter.
Dean had finished showing Sam how to clean the way far back teeth. Sam scuffled through his bag to find clothes, and changed.
"Boys, lets go!" John could be heard from outside, the motel door swung up. Sam was sitting serenely on the unmade bed, as Dean scurried to find the child's shoes. No matter where they were, Sam always found a way to misplace his shoes.
"Put them by the door, next time, Sammy." Dean grumbled.
"Okay, Dean," Sam nodded, sincerely taking his brother's suggestion to heart.
"Well, Mr. James, you were smart to bring Ben in," Dr. Booth said. John had decided that although they would pay in cash, usually Ben real name would be better than creating a fake alias. James was common enough, that suspicion would not be drawn. "How old is he again?"
"Eighteen months," John recited.
"Ah, right. At his age, most children are beginning to create their first words – ma, da – simple sounds, even. The noises he makes are minimal at best, which is the number one sign that he has a hearing impairment. Let me run and get some tools and we'll figure out how much Ben can actually hear; sometimes as a child grows older he'll be able to react more to sounds." The doctor placed Ben into John's arms and stepped out of the room.
"Daddy," Sam quietly whined.
"Sam, we're not done yet." John already knew Sam's questioned.
"But, I'm bored."
"Read the books, you like to read."
"I already read them all, two times!" the child yelled.
"Sam!" John urged, keeping as calm as he could. "Sit down and tell Dean the different types of spirits." Sam glared at his father, to which John narrowed his own eyes and snapped his fingers in the direction of Dean.
Dean had just been sitting quietly listening to an old Walk-man that John had recently given him. Sam tugged on his shirt.
"Dean." Dean did not respond though, the music blared loud and for a few minutes he lost himself in the melodic tunes.
"Dean," Sam tried again, this time pulling down hard on Dean's hard.
"Hey!" Dean exclaimed, taking on the earphones. "What's the big idea?"
"Daddy says I have to tell you about spirits."
"I know all about spirits, Sam." Looking to his father, Dean sighed as John gave him a pleading look. "Fine, let's see if you get it right this time." And Sam began to rattle off what John had recently taught him.
Minutes later, Dr. Booth came back in and told John to hold Ben still. He inserted a tiny tool called a probe microphone into Ben's ear canal, which was able to test the amount of sound Ben's ear was actually receiving.
"When I play this sound-," the doctor pressed play on a small stereotype system and a loud beep sounded. "This bulb will light if the microphone can detect the noise. We'll do ten tries at different beep volumes."
Dr. Booth placed the microphone into Ben's left ear, as John held him. The baby squirmed at the weird touch of the tool. Cooing him, John rubbed his back.
"We will than have to repeat the process with his right ear," said Dr. Booth. John nodded, making sure his breathing was strong and calm, so Ben could feel his chest rise and fall; that always kept the baby calm.
Noting that the doctor occupied, he turned to Dean and Sam. Sam was still talking about, his voice getting louder and he grew more tired and more fidgety.
"Mr. James, the room will have to be silent for the procedure to work correctly." John looked back at the doctor.
"Alright," he turned to the boys once again, "you hear that Sam? You did good telling Dean, now you gotta be quiet for the doctor." Sam sighed, but since the doctor smiled so nice at him, he would comply with his father's request.
"Okay, daddy."
The doctor went on to finish with the testing of Ben's left ear, and all the while Sam wiggled in his seat on the small couch. Dean knocking him in the shoulder and telling him to "shoo," didn't really help the child sit still. They had been at the hospital for a half hour waiting, and almost forty-five minutes with the doctor; for a seven year old that was a long time.
"Now, on to the right year, Ben," the doctor said.
"Dad, Sammy's-" Dean started.
"Come here, Dean. Sit with Ben and make sure he stays very still," John said. The two changed spots so John could deal with Sam, who now was sprawled across the couch kicking his legs.
"Does this thing hurt him?" Dean asked, while Dr. Booth placed the microphone into Ben's ear.
"No, not at all. It's very tiny, even for a baby's ear. He only squirms because the feeling is new to him," Dr, Booth explained. Hm, nice doctor. Dean could not stand hospitals, but he felt comfortable enough with the male doctor to let him work on Ben. The doctor didn't say anything as he worked with Ben's right ear, just nodding and scribbling down notes.
"Sam," John whispered, having picked Sam up and placed the child in his lap, letting Sam's legs hang on either side of his.
"Dad-" Sam tried to get up, but John's grasp. Jon quickly clamped his hand over the boy's mouth. He leaned in close to Sam's ear
"Samuel." John only used Sam's full name when he became very irritated and upset with the child.
"Daddy," Sam whispered back, "my toes are sleeping. I don't like that." John glared at Dean, although his oldest son's back was to him. Dean taught Sam mounds of information like that – how body parts fell asleep, where babies 'came' from, how gummy bears were made. This was a time that information was not needed in the child's mind. John seized Sam's left hand with his right Sam's right hand with his left, before crossing the child's arms across his shoulders. Sam immediately stopped struggling.
"Remember in the waiting room? If you don't behave, you're gonna get a spanking later," John hissed. Sam didn't say anything back, just huffed loudly.
"Remember?"
"Yes sir," Sam replied quietly.
"Good, now just sit here with me. Close your eyes and think about the books you just read, okay? Picture them in your head." John smiled to himself, when he felt Sam's body relax in his and Sam's head lay still on his chest. "Good boy."
Several minutes later, Dr. Booth had completed the procedure and left once more to get some pamphlets with information on the Ben's condition.
The Winchester's were back at the hotel after over two hours at the hospital. They had stopped only to double up on their clothes, as it was becoming chillier in the January air. John decided that Sam had been reasonably good that day, and that they could all use some fresh air, so they found a small park.
"Dean, hold my hand," Sam looked up at his older brother before they crossed the street.
"Why?" Dean didn't get it.
"I can't cross the street alone!" exclaimed Sam. Ms. Louise taught him that, Dean sighed. He missed her.
"Okay, okay. Gimme your hand, brat." Sam obediently locked his hand in Dean's, squeezing tight when Dean bolted across the street. John found a bench near the park to sit with Ben at.
"Dean! Be careful with Sammy, make sure he doesn't wander off!" He yelled.
Whether Dean heard his father or not, could not be told as he swung across the monkey bars. The park was a much-needed escape for him, as much as it was Sam. Sam's laughter could be heard a mile away, as he ran after Dean trying to keep up with the older boy. John allowed himself a moment to soak in his children's glee; with the events of the previous month and the hunting business in general, John often forgot how to enjoy fatherhood. Baby Ben brought him back to reality, as gained another precious son. As much as the child already burdened the father, John couldn't resist the loving aura that surround the child.
Dr. Booth discovered and explained best he could the type of deafness Ben had. In fact, Ben did not suffer from deafness at all, but rather hearing impairment because his ears could make out very loud sounds. Ben had profound hearing loss, which meant that his brain could only recognize sounds at 90 decibels or greater. The cause of the hearing loss was genetic and the damage to the ear was sensorineural. This type of hearing loss is permanent. In Ben's case, since he still a baby his brain had a difficult time figuring out what exactly it could hear. Dr. Booth said that in the following years of growth, Ben's hearing would move to a severe case; meaning he could hear 71 to 90 decibels of sound, which could be a scream or yell from someone.
Ben would need a hearing aid, which is what John had predicted. The medical world had just created a new baby-proof hearing aid, ideal for children. The aid was called a behind the ear hearing aid, that could attach to the child's clothing so that it would be lost if the child picked it out. The hospital took a mold of Ben's ears, to which they would find a suitable aid that would fit securely.
The doctor explained that although the child would begin to hear sounds, they might not always be as clear, so John shouldn't rely on the aid to communicate Ben. He gave John several simple sign language pamphlets that words John would his commonly: no, hello, hungry, etc. As recommended, John should look into the local hearing-impaired school that would teach Ben sign language and how to adjust to life with a hearing impairment, of course this was for when Ben was of school age. But the doctor urged John to go to the school as soon as possible, as it had classes for younger children and their families.
It had been a week since Ben received his hearing aid. The item, colored in blue mold, fit perfectly into Ben's ear. John only turned the hearing aid on for a few hours a day, so that Ben could get use to hearing noises. Tonight would be the first night the aid would be on at night. Ben had accustomed normally to the new sounds he heard, often whipping his head around when Dean and Sam bickered. The boys were fascinated with the hearing aid though, and enjoyed trying to get Ben's attention while calling his name – something he still was getting use to.
"Okay, Ben," John spoke loud, clear and slowly just as the doctor had told him. He held Ben on the side of his hip, and picked up the child's blue blanket. "Blankie," He said. Ben smiled and giggled, one of the only sounds the child was able to create before the hearing aid. His tiny hands snagged the blanket. "Blankie," repeated John. Repetition, Dr. Booth had said.
"Ah!" Ben squealed, not a clear sound, but the child was a quick learner. The moans he usually replied with had very fast become vowel sounds.
"Good, Jamie-" John praised. He often called Ben's real father, Duke James, by that nickname. The slip-of-the-tongue shocked John, as he and the boys didn't speak of Duke or Louise. They had only discussed what happened the following day of incident and than the subjected was dropped.
"Eee," Ben bounced at the sound of the name.
"You like that, huh?" John tickled the child's stomach. "I like it, too. Jamie." Ben rolled his head making unclear sounds. "Let's go to bed."
John lie on his back and let Ben succumb to the crevasse of John's chest. The baby's head perched across John's heart customary. Dean and Sam had fallen asleep sometime before, being exhausted from playing outside and than wrestling one another inside. John had already kissed them both, making sure their salt circle was not disturbed.
It took longer than usual for Ben to fall asleep, John noted. He never allowed himself to fall into slumber until all his boys were sleeping themselves. Closing his eyes only briefly before he felt the near by train rumble the paper-thin motel walls. The vibrations sent by the train through the floorboards caused Ben to awake. The train actually calmed the child as he had fall asleep to it for the past month. Moments later a car horn went off outside, which more than startled Ben. He began to scream and the unknown and unwelcome sound.
"Shoo, Ben," John cooed, placing a hand on the small the child's back. The car rang on and so did Ben's cries. John lifted himself into a sitting position. "It's okay. Daddy's here." That, too, was a new one for John. He subconsciously realized that since the child could hear now, the notion of 'daddy' would make it all better. It worked with Sam; John would hold Sammy tightly in his arms when he had a nightmare, repeating 'daddy's here'. Sam would also say "daddy's here, Dean," as if it were a complete phrase in itself, saying: don't be scared, no need to worry, all is well.
The car horn was one thing; the whistle from the train passing by was another. The combined noises and the rumble of the floorboards sent Ben in a fit of movement. Dean had awakened from the cries, and sat up trying to find his father's figure in the dark room. (Dean never fell into a deep sleep, like Sam.) The baby's cries worried the boy awake.
"Dad?" he called out.
"Dean, get the lights!" John finally comprehended that the darkness, new loud sounds, and tremble from the train was all too much for the child. The baby probably felt completely lost. The lights clicked on.
"Is he okay?"
"Jamie, it's okay. It's only a car and a train," John tried. The father reposition the child, so that Ben's hear was near John's heart. He than started breathing in deep and hard, remembering that it calmed Ben. Within seconds, Ben's cries seized and he whimpered softly.
"That car horn is annoying," Dean agreed. Random, Dean, Random. He felt slightly uncomfortable watching his father with Ben, as he hadn't been that close with either of his own sons since his crusade of revenge began seven years ago.
"Yeah." John said rubbing Ben's back. "It's okay, Jamie." Jamie? I never got any special name.
"Awe, the little guy took a leak. Damn," John swore, making a mental note to buy thicker diapers. "Hey, kiddo, come here and hold onto him, while I change my shirt."
Dean stood up and positioned himself on his father's bed, just like John had been. (Dean leaned his back against the bed frame and let his legs lay straight out.)
"Big brother," John said, moving the child into Dean's arms, before rushing to the bathroom to clean up.
"Hi, Ben," Dean said nervously. What's your problem Dean? He's just a baby. "Well, I'm your biggest brother." He let a few moments go by not knowing what to say to the child, if he should say anything at all. Ben started to whimper again from the sounds of the bathroom. "No, no. It's okay. That's just daddy washing his hands." Dean didn't notice, but his two index fingers patted the rhythm to his favorite Metallica song, 'One'. He stopped thinking it would bother the child.
"Dad always keeps us safe, Benny. And I'll always keep up safe, like I do Sam. You don't have to be scared 'cause Daddy or Sammy or I will always find you. Doesn't matter how dark or loud it is, I'll always find you. Just remember to open your eyes; Sam forgets that part sometimes," Dean laughed. You're rambling like him, he urged thinking of his little brother. That was funny, hide and seek doesn't mean close your eyes, geek. He smiled at the memory; games were always hard to play with Sam. The child asked so many questions. Sammy talks too much. Dean noticed his hands were beating Ben's back again, but found that Ben had fallen asleep.
"You're good with him, Dean," John spoke up. He had been standing at the doorway when Dean told Ben John would always keep them safe.
Dean slightly embarrassed, only replied, "I guess."
"Is he sleeping?"
"Uh huh. I think he likes Metallica," Dean beamed. John only gave his son a funny look.
"He fell asleep with you," John said moving back to the bed. Dean noticed the sadness in his father's voice.
"He's starting to fuss again," Dean said, remembering the word Louise used whenever Sam would become grumpy. "Can you hold him again?"
"Yeah sure." They switched sports and Dean crawled into the bed he shared with Sam. "Get some sleep, Dean. Thanks for holding him; you are a great brother, ya know?" stressed John.
"I know," Dean retorted with a smart-aleck tone. He situated his body into its habitual sleeping pose. Than he looked back at his father, "Can we love Ben?"
John was a bit taken back with his oldest sons question. Sam usually shot off ones like that.
"Of course we can Dean," John paused to think. " He's a lovable little guy, isn't he?" Dean nodded. "Yes, it's okay to love him even though he's not ours, like Sam and I are yours."
"Okay."
"'Cause, Dean!" John added, catching Dean before he laid back down, "We're family. All four us, and you can't break up a family. Were forever strong when we're all together. Got it?"
"Yes sir," Dean agreed. John's occasional speeches like that always plastered themselves in Dean's memory. "Night daddy," Dean quickly mumbled, as he rarely called his father 'daddy' anymore.
John turned off the nightstand light and continued his heavy breathing technique to calm Ben and eventually the two fell into a deep slumber.
Yay or nay? Sorry if it's a little slow right now, but had to established Ben's hearing problem. Please review; suggestions and comments are more than appreciated!