Chapter 12
Disclaimer: Still don't own them.
Once again a big thank you to Soar for her awesome beta work.
Dean picked up his father and brother and all three Winchester's drove toward the cemetary. Dean just wanted to get this hunt over with. He wanted to get back to the motel, pack their stuff and put this town behind them and never look back.
Dean was frantically trying to hold himself together. He couldn't let on to his father and brother that anything was wrong, so he put on his game face and told John and Sam all about his time with Grandpa, what a good time they'd had, how much he was going to miss him and how he was looking forward to lunch tomorrow with Ian and Alex.
He wasn't sure how he was going to explain that to his dad. Grandpa was supposed to drop the Porsche off with John so Dean could take the Impala. He could always fake a phone call and say that Grandpa had said something had come up and he'd had to cancel.
"Dean. Hey, Dean," John called trying to get his son's attention.
"What?"
"You and Sam get to dig. I'll take point," John said as he tossed the shovels toward his sons. Sam easily caught his. Dean missed and it ended up on the ground beside him.
"Getting slow in your old age," Sam teased his big brother.
Sam got his first clue that something was up with Dean when he just picked up the shovel and turned to follow his dad. Dean would never have missed an opportunity to get back at Sam.
"You alright, man?" Sam asked.
"Knock it off," Dean snapped.
"Fine, forget I said anything."
"Sam, wait. It's just... I just hate jobs involving kids." This was the Winchester version of I'm sorry.
"Me too," Sam replied in Winchester speak. This meant I forgive you.
"Boys," called John. "Move it. We're losing the night."
The boys caught up with their father and all three made short work of the fence. They easily located Simon's grave and began to dig. John kept a watchful eye out for any signs of the spirit. No one wanted to be wasted and that included supernatural beings, especially ones with unfinished business.
"Hey, Dad, how come me and Sam are always the ones that end up digging?"
"It's called the privilege of being the oldest," John explained with a smirk.
"Actually, he means he's getting too old," clarified Sam.
"I heard that, Samuel," John replied.
"Guess the hearing's not the first thing to go. Why don't you show us how it's done?" said Dean adding in his two cents and holding the shovel toward his father.
"Nice try and you should know, Dean, that my sight is just as good as my hearing. I see you've barely moved any dirt," John replied.
"Yeah, Dean, move it. At the rate you're going, we'll still be here in the morning."
"Then me and Sam will leave you here to finish while we go have breakfast," John teased.
Dean froze at his father's words. He knew his father was teasing him. He knew Sam was too. He knew his father didn't mean he wasn't good enough and that they were not really threatening to leave. It was just, the emotions that he was trying to pretend didn't exist were right below the surface, threatening to escape, and that's what he was hearing. Keep it together, Dean. Get this done and we can get out of here, he thought to himself.
Usually, when he was on a hunt, Dean was able to put everything behind him and get the job done. You simply had to focus because it was too easy for something to go wrong. Dean, however, was hurt far more by what had taken place at his grandfather's than even he was willing to admit to himself and his mind kept going back to his mother's note. He wasn't good enough. The story of his life.
Stop it, he told himself. Just get this done. Dean repeated this mantra to himself over and over. It worked for a while. He almost made it. They could see part of the casket when Dean's feelings boiled over once again.
Why? Why wasn't he good enough? Why did everyone leave him? All his life, he had done everything that was asked of him, given everything he'd ever had. Why was it never enough? What more did they want? What more did he have to give?
Stop it, Dean, just get this done, he repeated again.
"Dean. Earth to Dean. Come on, you awake?" he heard his dad call him.
"What?" Dean said not even bothering to keep the irritation out of his voice.
"What's going on? You haven't moved in five minutes," John inquired.
"If you think you can do better, be my guest," Dean snapped as he threw down the shovel, climbed out of the hole and started to walk away.
"Freeze," John ordered.
Dean obeyed instinctively.
"You want to tell me what's going on with you? I know you hate jobs involving kids, but you usually get the job done without going off into outer space every two minutes," John commented.
"Nothing's wrong. You answered your own question." Dean could feel himself starting to lose it. He had to get out of there. "I think we left the rock salt in the car. I'm going to go check."
"No, we didn't, it's right here," Sam called as he exited the hole and joined his brother and father.
"I meant the lighter fluid. I'll be right back." Dean turned and started toward the car.
"I'm talking to you. Don't walk away from me," John ordered.
"You did!!" Dean shouted to his horror. Before he could stop himself he added "You both did!!"
"What are you talking about?" John asked confused.
Dean, knowing he had said too much, remained silent.
"Tell me what's going on," John repeated.
"Is that an order, Sir" Dean said sarcastically.
"Lose the attitude, Jonathan Dean," John said beginning to lose his own temper.
"DON'T CALL ME THAT," Dean exploded.
"Tell me what's going on Jona... ah, um, Dean," John said stumbling over his son's name.
"Nothing, we have a hunt to finish. Let's go." With that, Dean went back to the hole and started digging with renewed enthusiasm. John and Sam just looked at each other, neither knew what to say. The same thought was beginning to enter both their minds though. However, before they had a chance to voice it, all hell broke loose.
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Frank kept trying to reach John. He had to let him know what had happened. He had first driven to their motel, but there was no sign of them and Frank feared that they had packed up and left. If that was what had happened, he knew he would never see them again. He vowed he would give up everything he owned if he could see his grandson one more time. He had to explain. He couldn't lose Dean.
He was pondering where to go next when his cell phone rang. He said a quick prayer that it was John but he frowned when he saw the name Adam Wright. He didn't have time for this.
"Hi, Adam," Frank greeted. "Sorry, I'm in a bit of a hurry."
"Frank, this isn't a social call."
Frank felt his heart speed up. Adam was a doctor.
"What's wrong?"
"I just thought that you would want to know that your grandson was admitted last night," Adam said, explaining the reason for the call.
"Is he okay? Tell me he's alright," Frank demanded.
"He'll be fine, Frank. He hit his head pretty hard, but fortunately, there's no skull fracture."
Frank let out a breath he didn't even realize that he had been holding. He said a quick goodbye to Adam, thanking the other man for calling, then he put the car into gear and sped toward the hospital, and heaven help anyone that tried to stop him.
John and Sam were in the waiting room when the doors burst open and they saw Frank rush toward them.
"Hi," Frank said hesitantly. He guessed that Dean had filled them in and he was not sure how he would be received. He was more than a little shocked when John greeted him warmly.
"John, what happened? Is Dean alright?"
"He's fine, concussion and a dislocated shoulder," John explained. He told Frank the same cover story he had told the doctor.
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Sam and John had, by unspoken agreement, decided that they would wait until they were both back at the hotel before interrogating Dean any further. They had a feeling they knew what was wrong, but neither really wanted to admit it could be possible that Dean had found out, and they did have to get this hunt finished. Dean salted the bones and Sam was just about to drop the match when Simon Fitzgerald's angry spirit showed up. He went for Sam and Dean, ever the protector, blocked Sam with his own body. It threw him and Dean smacked his head on the corner of a head stone and the awkward angle of the landing forced his shoulder from its socket.
John blasted the spirit with rock salt from his shotgun and this gave Sam time to torch the bones. John ran over check on Dean. He had a nasty gash on the side of his head and he wasn't conscious. John forgot all about his first aid training, grabbed Dean, yelling for Sam to catch up, and made a dash for the hospital. They came up with the cover story that Dean had been mugged by unknown assailants.
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"Can we see him?" asked Frank.
"In about a half an hour, they took him down for another CT. They wanted to make sure he wasn't bleeding intercranially.
"Thank God he's alright. Is it okay for me to go in" Frank asked, his voice rough with emotion.
"Yeah, of course," John said. However, a little voice in the back of his mind began making itself known once again.
"He found out didn't he," Sam said coldly, putting two and two together.
"Yes," Frank admitted.
"Please, Frank, tell me you're lying," John pleaded.
"I wish I could."
"Why didn't you tell me?" John said.
"I tried to call you all night, but I kept getting your voice mail," Frank replied.
John checked his phone and that's when he realized his mistake. He realized that he had turned the phone off. There were 22 new voice mail messages waiting. He cursed softly under his breath. They should never have been in that cemetary last night. He should have been talking to his son. He knew Dean had been resurrecting his walls and if he had to guess, they were now made of steel and reinforced concrete. There would be no way to get though them.
"How did he find out?" asked Sam.
"Margaret," Frank said simply.
"You promised, Frank. You said she wouldn't tell him. Do you know the damage you've caused?" Sam accused.
"There's nothing I can say but that I'm sorry. I didn't know that Margaret had a copy of the note that came with Mary's journal. She gave it to him," Frank explained.
"Damn her," John cursed. He wanted to find that woman and give her a piece of his mind.
Before John could say anything, they were interrupted by the doctor who informed them that everything looked good and that Dean was being settled back into his room. They wanted to hold him for twenty-four hours of observation because of the head wound though.
"Frank," John started. "I would love nothing more than to tell you to get lost, but if you don't go see Dean, he's going to think you don't want him around, so go in and explain. I can tell you right now that he probably isn't going to answer you, though."
"Thanks, John. I'm surprised you're not angrier at me and for what it's worth, I never meant for Dean to get hurt. This past week has meant so much to me."
"I'm plenty mad," John said "Furious, but yelling at you isn't going to do any good. It won't change anything. Right now, we have a lot of damage control to get started on."
"John, thank you," Frank replied sincerely.
Frank was grateful that John hadn't killed him on sight but was giving him another chance. One he probably didn't deserve. He didn't think he would get a third strike so he had to make this one count. He paced outside of Dean's room for a few minutes trying to decide what to say.
Taking a deep breath to try and calm his nerves, he opened the door to Dean's room and stepped inside. He saw the young man lying in his bed. He could see a large bandage on the side of his head and a bruise was starting to form around the edges of the dressing, his left shoulder was in a sling and he was pale.
The worst thing to Frank was the defeated look Dean wore. It caused Frank's heart to shatter once more. He cursed himself, he had caused this.
Dean looked up when he heard someone enter his room. When he saw his grandfather his gaze shifted back to the wall.
"Hey, Dean," greeted Frank. "I know you probably hate me right now and I don't blame you. I came to try to explain. I don't expect you to understand and I don't expect you to forgive me, but I have to try."
For the third time since running into the Winchesters, Frank told the story about wanting to make his father proud. He admitted that he had been afraid of letting his father down and failing to let the Jackson name live on. "It was never about you, Dean," Frank finished. He laid his hand on Dean's good shoulder.
Dean had remained silent through Frank's explanation, but he flinched when he felt the contact and Frank, fearing that he had overstepped his bounds, removed it quickly. Dean refused to make eye contact and refused to speak or even acknowledge his grandfather. He just wanted everyone to go away.
Funny, he thought. The one time he wanted everyone to leave they seemed to be coming out of the woodwork.
Once again, he wasn't good enough. The list was getting really long. His mom had lied to him, and if she'd lied about his name, what else had she lied about? Was she truly proud of him or did she consider him a burden? His dad had left him, Sam had left. Neither one had looked back, probably never even gave him another thought. He'd trusted Cassie and she'd thought he was nuts. His grandfather had never really wanted him in his life. He was most likely pretending to like him because he reminded Grand... no Frank, he corrected himself, of Mary. His grandmother had rejected him on sight. Hell, he wasn't even good enough for the demon. He hadn't come into their lives until Sam was born, Dean thought to himself morbidly.
"Dean, I'm not going far. I'll be here if you want to talk to me, yell at me, scream at me or call me names. I deserve it, but I hope you believe me when I say I love you, Dean, and I am so happy I got to know you," Frank said softly.
John had stood by the door and listened to Frank's speech. He hoped Dean took his grandfather up on his offer, but Dean remained silent. John knew he was protecting himself. He did this when things hurt too much.
"Dean, I'm sorry too," John said. "I'm sorry I kept the truth from you. You got along so well with Frank from the beginning, I couldn't take that away from you. I know you're feeling hurt and betrayed right now and I'm going to tell you to stop. I just want you to consider that Frank is telling the truth. Think about it, Son, if he didn't want you around, why did he take you places where he knew he would run into people he knew? You told me that he introduced you as his grandson everywhere you went. He does truly care about you, Dean."
Eventually, Frank left the room, but not the hospital, and John settled into a chair beside his son's bed. Sam was pacing outside, deciding if he should go find Margaret. He was seriously trying to stop himself from going to find Margaret and burn that witch at the stake. He checked on Dean to let him know he was here if he needed anything and if he wanted anything snuck in from Burger King.
Dean didn't answer. He just closed his eyes and pretended to sleep. He had to get out and he knew his father was not going to let him sign out AMA so when John, who had been up all night, drifted off for real, it was the opportunity Dean had been waiting for. He got dressed and silently headed out the door.
Sam arrived a short while later and discovered his brother was nowhere to be found. He woke his father and they went back to the motel and Frank insisted on coming along. John was forced to accept this because a check of the parking lot revealed that Dean had taken the Impala. All Dean's stuff was gone, except for a little teddy bear with angel wings that was sitting on his bed.
This alerted John to just how upset Dean was. John had bought him that teddy bear when Dean was seven and in the hospital to have a hole in his heart repaired. He told Dean that his mom had sent it to him, so that Dean would always know he had a guardian angel watching over him whenever his dad couldn't be with him. That Dean had deliberately left it behind spoke volumes about his emotional state, he never went anywhere without it in his bag.
"Where is he, Dad?" Sam questioned.
"Think, Sam, Dean's upset, he's hurting and feeling like he's been betrayed by everyone. Where would he go if he wanted to feel safe?"
Sam and John looked at each other and the both said in unison. "Bobby."
Hope you liked this chapter. Please read and review and let me know what you thought.
