---Again, thank you for all of your kind reviews. They really encourage me when it comes to writing this story. Well, here's the next chapter. Enjoy!

Chapter 3: Baseball Game

It was a nasty poltergeist. Nothing John couldn't handle, but nasty none the less. He'd come prepared with all the herbs and trinkets he would need to use to cleanse the house. But he hadn't been quick enough. As he was punching the last hole in the wall to place the little packet that would finish off the thing for sure, he felt himself flying; straight into the kitchen wall. John quickly got up and raced towards the packet that he'd dropped. He reached it, but not before the poltergeist had managed to use the fireplace to set multiple items from the house on fire. This thing was going to go out with a fight. John finally managed to reach the hole in the wall and placed the packet in. There was a flash of light and then everything was quiet. John looked around and realized that the house was on fire and the flames were quickly spreading.

John managed to get out of the house and back on the road as he heard the sirens approaching. He couldn't help but think of the poor family that would be returning to their nearly destroyed home. But at least the poltergeist was dead, and wouldn't be bothering them anymore.

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By the time he got home it was dark. He was eager to get inside and lie down. He opened the door to of the house they were staying at to find his eight-year-old son sitting on the couch reading a book. It seemed like ever since the kid had learned to read he had his nose in some book or another.

At the sight of John, Sammy looked up, said "Hi dad," and looked back down at his book with the concentration of somebody performing surgery. He looked way too serious to be his Sammy.

John smiled and said, "That's the best greeting I get?"

"Sorry dad. I'm almost done with this chapter."

John waited about thirty seconds before the boy put his book down and got up eagerly to hug him. This was more like the Sammy he knew. John sat down and patted the couch next to him. Sam walked over to him, sitting down on John's knee instead.

"Where's your brother," John asked him.

"He's in our room," Sam replied. "But daddy, he's real upset."

John looked confused. "Why's he upset?"

"He told me he was fine, but I could tell he wasn't."

John gave a frustrated sigh. "Sam, why is Dean upset?"

"'Cause his baseball game was today. It was the tournament."

Damn it, he forgot. John had allowed Dean to join the baseball team at school because he was planning on staying in town for the remainder of the boys' school year. Dean had been so excited. He loved the game and was good at it too. John remembered getting a call from the coach, praising the twelve-year-old on his baseball skills, even calling Dean a natural. John was always too busy to go to the games, but he knew Dean understood. Or at least he thought he did.

He remembered telling Dean that he would be at the game. The boy's face lit up, even though he insisted that it was no big deal and that John didn't have to come.

"You missed it daddy. I don't know lots about baseball but everyone was cheering when Dean hit the ball. And there was lots of food there too. Dean gave me some money and said I could have whatever I wanted as long as it didn't have too much sugar but I still bought lots of-"

"Whoa there Sammy." Sam's voice was running a mile a minute and it was obvious that he hadn't listened to his big brother's 'not to much sugar' rule. The sugar rush was beginning to kick in. "It sounds like you had a good time."

"Yeah, but it woulda been more fun if you were there."

John said nothing, just thought to himself. Guess he'd have to explain things to Dean.

"Why don't you read some more of your book there Sam. I'm gonna go up and say hey to Dean."

"'Kay dad."

John got up and started up the stairs. He knew the game was important, but so was the hunt. After all, it was just a baseball game. No big deal. Dean would understand.

John opened the door to the bedroom that Sam and Dean shared. He saw Dean sitting on the bed, leaning against the headboard, scribbling something in a notebook. When the door opened, Dean lifted his head. "Hey son," John greeted as he went to sit on a chair next to the bed.

"Hey dad," Dean greeted back, although his voice lacked its usual enthusiasm.

John smiled and Dean forced a grin as well.

They sat in silence for a minute. Well, it was now or never. "Look son, about your baseball tournament today," he began, but John stopped, leaving the room in silence, searching for the words to say.

To spare themselves from another moment of the unbearable quiet, Dean quickly spoke up. "It's not a big deal."

But John knew it was a big deal to him. He studied his son for a moment, noticing just how old he sounded. But that was in Dean's nature. Dean became an adult the day that Mary died. He was able to hide his emotions too well. His hid them behind an invisible wall; behind those hazel eyes of his.

But John also noticed Dean's voice. He could always tell how Dean was really feeling by listening to his voice. It was very subtle, almost undetectable, but when Dean was upset, his voice always sounded younger. And right now, he sounded like the twelve-year-old he really was.

Guilt began to creep through John. "I really wanted to be there son. But you know how important the hunt was." More important than a promise to his son?

"Yeah, dad. I know." Dean looked back down at his notebook, trying to hide the emotion that was obviously becoming harder to hide.

John placed a hand on Dean's shoulder, trying to console his disappointed boy. "I promise I'll be at your next game."

"'Kay dad," Dean said, giving John a real smile this time.

That was all John had to say to Dean. The boy always forgave his father so easily that John sometimes felt guilty. But he knew his son would rather just forget about it then hear a long, heartfelt apology, which John was extremely glad for, considering he never was one for words.

"So, tell me about the game today."

As John said the words, Sammy burst into the room. The kid had been listening at the door. "The game was great, dad!" Sammy yelled, answering for his brother. John and Dean both smiled. Guesse the sugar rush hasn't died down yet.

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The three Winchesters sat on the bed for awhile as Dean recounted the details of the tournament.

"It was my turn to bat and I hit a home run," Dean told his dad, finishing up his story. Any hint that he had been upset earlier had disappeared. "We won the game. Those suckers lost nine to three."

"Sounds like you had a great time," John said.

"But Dean," Sam spoke up suddenly. "You forgot about what happened after the game. Sam had a silly looking grin on his face.

"Nothing happened after game," Dean replied, a little too quickly.

"Yeah-huh. You kissed Carrie Walker."

"You don't say," John replied grinning. John found this little bit of information slightly amusing. That was all he needed now. His son going around kissing girls. When did he get old enough to do that?

"I didn't kiss her, Sammy, she kissed me," Dean said in his defense, cheeks reddening in embarrassment.

"But you liked it," Sam said, the grin on his face continuing to grow.

"You're just jealous you've never kissed a girl."

"Ewww. Why would I want to kiss a girl?"

John rolled his eyes. "I think it's time for bed," he said before the conversation could go any further.

"But dad," Sammy started to protest, but his complaint quickly turned into a yawn. The sugar rush had finally worn off.

He patted Dean on the shoulder and turned around to tuck Sammy into the bed on the other side of the room. With one last "Goodnight" John turned off the light.

"I'm glad you're coming to my next game dad. It's the last one of the season," Dean yawned.

"I'm glad too son," John said as he closed the door.

But John wouldn't be going to Dean's next game. They would be leaving town this weekend. John would have liked to stay, but there had been witnesses at the house. John couldn't risk being on the police's radar, especially since the credit card scams that were beginning to pile up.

He was sorry. Sorry that the boys' couldn't finish up the remainder of the school year in the same town. Sorry that he had to drag the boys into another rat hole they would temporarily call home.So sorry that he'd just made a promise to Dean that he couldn't keep. But that was John's life. Always breaking the little promises he made. But after all, it was just a baseball game. Dean would understand. It was no big deal.

---Thank you for reading, hope you enjoyed it. I finally know where this story is going. If everything goes according to plan, there should be six chapters in all. As before, reviews are appreciated and extremely helpful.