Hidden From You
"Adoption?" Dean questioned, pulling up outside the hospital with Punk later on that night.
"Yeah." Punk smiled, "Crazy, right?" He said as Dean nodded.
"They thought about it?" Dean wondered as Punk turned to him.
"Of course they've thought about it." Punk scoffed, "You think it's something they've just woke up and decided one day?" He shook his head.
"No, of course not." Dean said, "But… it's… well it's…" He stuttered as Punk looked at him with that older brother look that terrified him.
"It's what?" Punk raised a brow.
"Risky?" Dean wondered if that was the right word to use.
"Risky?" Punk shook his head, "What the hell is risky about it? They want a baby, they get a baby." He shrugged.
"Yeah but I'm sure it's not as simple as that." Dean said.
"Of course not. I mean it sounds like a complicated process actually. It might be a while before they even get picked by a pregnant lady." Punk explained, "But I wouldn't say it's risky." He shook his head with confusion.
Cassie and Theo had just dropped by earlier on to tell he and AJ about their decision to adopt. Of course they were completely over the moon for both of them.
"I mean it's risky cause they already got Chase." Dean said.
"And?" Punk shook his head.
"So they're gonna have a kid that's biologically theirs and one that isn't?" Dean questioned, "Don't you think that's opening up for sibling rivalry?"
"No of course it isn't. They're gonna have two kids. Period. And Chase is gonna have a brother or sister. It's really that simple." Punk assured his brother.
"Until they get older." Dean mumbled.
"Look… they've been wanting another kid for a while now. I don't have to go into detail with you about… problems they clearly were having, hence the decision to adopt." Punk said, "I see this as exactly as I would if Cassie had come told us she was pregnant." He said, "It's the same thing." He nodded as Dean looked at him.
"Hey… of course I'm happy for them and excited." Dean nodded, "I just… I think it's such a huge thing. It's a brave thing." He said.
"Well Cassie is brave." Punk concluded, "Now can we go get this old man?" He asked.
"Dude, I'm not saying I'm not happy for them." Dean clarified, "I'd just be making sure that it's something they've thought through."
"They quite clearly have. It's Cassie and Theo. They would have discussed it privately before telling people. That's how I know they're fully committed to it." Punk nodded.
He was proud and overjoyed for his daughter and Theo for their decision to adopt. They were amazing parents to Chase and he had absolutely no doubt they would be the best parents to another little boy or girl. He had no worries. None what so ever.
"Alright." Dean nodded, "Then I can't wait to meet their baby." He smiled as Punk nodded.
"Lucky seven." Punk smiled as Dean shook his head with confusion, "Be my seventh grandkid." He nodded as Dean smiled.
"And you're still a spring chicken." Dean smacked him on the back.
"I don't know about that." Punk groaned, "Alright let's get this old bastard. I deserve a medal for letting him stay with me." He nodded.
"What do you think Sam would reckon about this?" Dean wondered as Punk turned to him.
"About what?" Punk asked.
"Our relationship with dad." Dean said.
"I'm not sure I'd call it a relationship." Punk admitted.
"Well, whatever it is." Dean said.
"She'd have an opinion about it, sure. Cause she had an opinion about everything." Punk rolled his eyes. As he got older, he did get a pang sometimes in his heart, wishing to hear his mother's voice again. It wasn't something he thought would happen to him.
"Remember that time we watched her beat up some guy with a baseball bat?" Dean chuckled to himself.
"I'm pretty sure that happened more than once." Punk nodded.
"Crazy bitch." Dean shook his head, "And then she'd ask us if we wanted chicken nuggets for dinner." He remembered as Punk laughed.
"Get your ass out of my house!" Sam yelled, extending the baseball bat above her head, crashing it down towards the man she was chasing down the stairs, "Fucking asshole!" She yelled, swinging the bat, knocking the man onto the ground as he scrambled for the door.
Meanwhile ten year old Punk and nine year old Dean came out from the living room, watching their mother repeatedly smacking a baseball bat down onto a man they did not know. Neither said a thing, only watching as their mother beat the man to a pulp.
"Get your ass up!" Sam yelled, watching the man scrambling to his feet, reaching for the door as she followed him, "And don't even think about coming back here you bastard! Cause I got a gun! I got a gun in here!" She yelled eccentrically into the neighbourhood.
"She's got a gun?" Dean whispered to Punk who shrugged.
"Yeah, go on! Run! Run, like a little bitch." Sam spat, gripping the baseball bat tightly, standing on their door step, looking into the loud night. Dogs barking, babies crying, loud music booming from wide open windows. And the sound of a man fearing for his life as he ran from their house bloodied and bruised.
"Asshole." Sam muttered to herself, walking back into the house, slamming the door shut and throwing the baseball bat down, looking over at her sons who were watching her.
"You got a gun?" Dean asked immediately as Sam ignored the question.
"I suppose you two want something to eat?" She asked.
"There's nothing in." Punk stated the obvious.
"There's those chicken nuggets." Sam nodded, walking through to the kitchen.
"We had them for lunch." Dean followed.
"And breakfast." Punk trailed behind Dean.
Often they didn't see their mother for days on end, and when she would appear, she looked like she had been dragged through a bush backwards. Sometimes she'd be bruised and cut up or sometimes she'd still be high or drunk. They didn't know any different.
"Phil found five dollars on our way home from school." Dean told her excitedly
"What did you spend it on?" Sam asked, looking in the fridge which was basically empty.
"Nothing." Punk said as Sam turned to them both.
"We wanted to give it to you." Dean explained, "Well I wanted to spend it on chips but Phil said we should give it to you." He corrected himself as Punk nodded in agreement.
"Why?" Sam shook her head.
"You might need it." Punk shrugged, opening up the drawer under the sink, pulling out the five dollars and extending it over to her as Sam sighed. The reason she got so drunk was to avoid feeling the pain she felt when she looked at her neglected, malnourished and sweetheart sons.
"No, you… you both spend it." Sam nodded, "Get some chips or… or share some pizza." She suggested, "I don't need it."
"We'll share pizza with you." Dean compromised.
"No, it's ok." Sam said, "You both go out and get some pizza, yeah?" She nodded as they both looked at her, "And whenever you find money, wherever it is, you take it for yourselves, ok?" She said, "You eat. Don't give it to anyone else." She made clear. The least she thought she could do was teach them to look out for themselves and only themselves. To do what they had to, to survive.
"Alright." Punk nodded.
"Who was that man?" Dean asked her.
"That doesn't matter." Sam said, "Now get going." She shoved Dean forward out of the kitchen, "Standing in here like two chatty Kathy's. Get!" She shoved Punk next as they left the kitchen and headed out to go share a slice of pizza with each other.
"We're still waiting on any prints coming back. They dusted the whole house." Sean explained, walking upstairs as Jude followed behind.
They'd left his office at the police station and headed to the house so he could show her what was going on and what they had found, or unfortunately, what they hadn't found. They'd left the conversation they were having beforehand back at his office, but both were still thinking about all that was being said. The awful situation they found themselves in.
"You think they'll pick up on some?" Jude asked, reaching the top of the stairs.
"Maybe." He said, "Maybe not. I can't get a beat on what the motive was." He admitted, walking towards the art studio, opening up the door as Jude looked on with a frown.
"The motive seems to be trashing my studio." Jude stated the obvious, "Nothing else in the house has been touched." She shook her head, walking into her studio which had been completely trashed.
"Yeah, that's why I'm confused about the whole thing." Sean said, "And honestly, a little worried." He admitted, watching as she knelt down on the floor, picking up some paintbrushes.
"These were expensive." Jude shook her head, "My parents got me these when I turned twenty-one." She sighed, grabbing the pot that was discarded across the other side of the floor to place the brushes in.
"I looked around and I don't think anything is damaged." Sean nodded, "Apart from some of the canvases you had on the walls." He said.
"So put on your cop head for a second then." Jude said, standing back up, "Because from where I'm standing, this feels personal." She nodded as he looked across at her.
"I'd say it's someone who knows you. Knows us." Sean nodded.
"I don't know anyone here, though." Jude shook her head, sitting down on the chair, "Certainly not anyone who would break into the house and do this."
"Ok so maybe it's not someone who you speak with or who you're friends but it's still probably someone you see on the daily." Sean said, "Think about work or your charity events or mom friends." He said.
"But what have they gained from doing this?" Jude asked, "Nothing has been taken from in here, right?" She nodded, beginning to look around more closely, although it was difficult to notice anything out of place when the whole room was out of place.
"Not that I can see but you'll probably notice something missing before I do." He said, "You can take your time looking through everything… I'll help you get it back to how it was." He nodded.
"They don't need to preserve it or anything?" She asked.
"No, they've got everything they needed." He nodded.
"Ok." Jude said, looking around the room with a frown. He could see how upset this made her, how it no doubt felt like a personal attack on her given how much her art meant to her, which made him incredibly angry thinking about who had done this, and why.
"Whoever this is…" He put his hands on his hips, "Whatever they're trying to achieve here." He looked around the room, pausing for a moment to choose his words carefully, looking over at her where she was picking up brushes from the floor and other tools, "I'm not going to let anything happen to you." He assured her as she looked up at him from the floor, "You don't have to worry." He said, extending his hand out to her.
She took his hand and stood up, looking up at him as they stood close in front of one another.
"I know you won't let anything happen to me." She nodded quietly. That was the only thing she was sure of right now.
"I made up one of the spare bedrooms for you." AJ insisted to Dan who was sat in their living room after Punk had brought him home from the hospital.
"No, I'll just take the couch." Dan shook his head, "I told Phil I didn't want fuss. It'll be like I'm not even here." He nodded as AJ folded her arms.
"You're going to sleep on the couch when there's a perfectly fine bed upstairs for you?" AJ questioned.
"Yeah." Dan nodded, "And listen, I really do appreciate you having me here, but it won't be for long. Just until they sort my new medication out."
"It's no problem." AJ assured him, "It's nice to have you, actually." She smiled as Dan just nodded, smiling awkwardly as AJ laughed quietly to herself.
"Where'd Phil go?" Dan asked.
"I think he's in the kitchen with the girls." AJ nodded, "It's burgers for dinner, is that ok?" She asked him.
"Yeah, fine." Dan waved his hand, "Which girls? Is Cassie here?" He wondered.
"No, not our girls. Our granddaughters. Mirren and Leela." AJ smiled, "Jude had to go back to New York for a couple days." She explained as Dan nodded, "Did you hear about Cassie's news?" She smiled.
"Depends what news you're talking about." Dan said cautiously. He didn't want to be responsible for blabbing about Cassie's adoption news, in case she hadn't told anyone else yet.
"They're adopting a baby." AJ nodded.
"Then yeah, I did hear that news." Dan smiled, "Great news." He muttered to himself happily.
"Yeah, it's great." AJ agreed, "I think they've told everyone now." She nodded.
"They're good parents." Dan nodded, "If I was giving my kid up for adoption, I'd want them to go to parents like them." He said as AJ smiled to herself. She thought the same.
"Can I get you anything? A drink or something?" AJ asked him.
"No. April, pretend I'm not here." Dan insisted, "Go." He waved his hand as AJ nodded, leaving the living room and entering the kitchen where Punk was sitting with Mirren and Leela at the kitchen table, covered in stickers from Leela's sticker book.
"Look at Papa's face." Leela told AJ, pointing to Punk and laughing.
"I think we could get more stickers on him." AJ nodded.
"Me too." Mirren smiled, "But we've almost ran out." She said.
"What about make-up next?" Leela asked excitedly.
"I don't think so." Punk piped up, "I had to go through enough of that with your mother and aunt Thea." He shook his head.
"They always made you look so pretty." AJ nodded, "Once you're free could you go up to the attic and bring down the spare duvet that's up there?" She asked him.
"What for?" Punk shook his head.
"Your dad. He's insisting on sleeping on the couch." AJ shrugged.
"Can't we just give him a blanket?" Punk scoffed as AJ raised a brow, "Alright, I'll go up and get it." He told her, getting up from the table.
"Ok, how about we make a start on these burgers." AJ nodded to the girls.
"Yeah!" Leela exclaimed, "And I want cheese on mine." She insisted.
"I do too." Mirren nodded.
Punk left them in the kitchen discussing what they wanted on their burgers, heading upstairs, pulling down the ladders from the attic entrance and heading on up. They mostly kept things they didn't use anymore along with Christmas and Halloween decorations. To say it was a mess was an understatement, and he avoided it at all costs.
He moved different boxes out of the way, trying to get his hands on the spare duvet when he knocked a cardboard box over which unfortunately didn't have its lid on properly.
"Oh, come on." Punk groaned, crouching down and sitting the box upright, looking at what appeared to be a bunch of papers which had half spilled out, "April, what even is all this crap up here?" He shook his head, looking around. Come to think of it, he wasn't sure he really knew what the hell they kept up here.
He collated all the papers which had spilled out of the box, pausing when he noticed it was his wife's hands writing, papers upon papers of her writing, all with the same constant heading at the top of each page.
Dear Phil
