Chapter 2
A/N: Thanks to Soar for the awesome beta job. Any left over mistakes are completely my own. I would also like to thank both Soar and JuliaAurelia for their feedback and encouragment.
John Winchester pulled up in Bobby's driveway. He'd only managed sporadic visits these last few months and he really missed his boys. He had gotten wind of a black dog in Delaware and Jefferson, who John had been hunting with, couldn't make it, so he decided that he would take the boys with him. It wouldn't hurt them to miss a few days of school and after the hunt was taken care of, he'd get them enrolled in a new school.
He walked tiredly up the front steps and let himself in. "Hey boys," he called out to them. Both boys ran and greeted their dad enthusiastically. They had missed him just as much as he had missed them. Bobby also joined them and said hello.
"Hey dad, guess what?" Sam said, excitedly tugging on John's arm, trying to get his father's attentions.
Dean knew that Sam was going to tell his father about the spelling bee, but blurting it out was not the best way to go about it. Dean figured that he had to give the news to his father in small doses. "Not now, Sammy. Dad's tired," Dean said trying to pull his little brother away.
"But Dean, I want daddy to know you're going to Washington," Sam said to his brother. Dean wanted to groan.
"It's nothing, dad," Dean said, trying to throw his father off the subject. "Um, school field trip."
"Dean's gonna be on TV," Sam suddenly announced.
John frowned and glanced over at his eldest. "Answers, Dean. Now!" He ordered.
There was no choice then but to admit the truth. Dean took a deep breath. "We had a spelling contest at school and I won," he started and told his father the whole story that had let to him qualifying for the national spelling bee. "Bobby's helping me to study," Dean finished. He looked at his father hopefully. He wanted his dad's approval.
"When is it?" John asked.
"In May," Dean said.
"So you can go hunting with me this week then. I need your help with a black dog."
"What about school?" Dean asked.
"It won't hurt you to miss a few days. Go pack yours and Sammy's bags. I want to be ready to leave by noon tomorrow," John informed his eldest son.
Dean glanced through the open doorway to the boxes of flashcards resting on the table. He needed every day to study, he had to win that money. Could he ask his father to excuse him from this hunt?
"Dean," John said when his eldest remained rooted to his spot.
"How many days are we going to be gone?" Dean said in a resigned tone.
"Pack all your things," John instructed. "The hunt's in Delaware. I'll enrol you in school there when we're done."
We're leaving permanently, Dean thought. They couldn't. He'd lose his sponsor and his spot in the spelling bee. He was surprised at how much that disappointed him, although he guessed he should be relieved. The pressure was off him now. He would have blown it in the first round anyway.
"Come on, Sammy. I need you to help me pack," Dean said to his little brother.
"But what about the bee?" Sammy said. "Uncle Bobby said we had to work hard. How can we hunt and study?"
"Boys, enough," John said in a tone indicating that he was not about to tolerate any more insubordination from his sons.
"Forget it, Sammy," Dean said. "Come on," he said and led his little brother out the door.
Bobby wanted to add in his two cents, but he knew that John was on edge right now and a confrontation would do more harm than good. John would refuse on principle alone. He decided it was best to wait until after dinner and John was relaxed with a cold beer in his hand.
In the boys' room, Dean was stuffing things into his duffle bag, not even bothering to fold them.
"Dean, are you mad at daddy?" Sam asked timidly.
"No," Dean said in a forced tone. "Dad has an important job and he needs our help."
"But Dean," Sam protested. "What about the..."
"Sammy, forget it," Dean snapped. "I'm going to get our stuff from the bathroom," Dean said and stormed out of the room. Sam could hear a door slam from down the hall.
Bobby had decided to check up on the boys and came down the hall just in time to see John's eldest storm out of the bedroom and slam the bathroom door closed.
"Uncle Bobby, is Dean mad at me?" Sam asked.
"No, kiddo," Bobby said comforting the small boy. "He's disappointed."
"Why didn't he just tell daddy that he doesn't want to hunt?" Sam asked.
"It's complicated, Sammy," Bobby explained. "But don't worry, I'll work on your daddy. Dean's worked too hard to miss this."
--
John wandered into his friend's kitchen looking for a beer. The boxes of flashcards on the table caught his eye. He picked up a card and looked at it. "Kibbutz," he read, only able to pronounce it thanks to Bobby' phonetic spelling. "Noun, Hebrew, a collective farm or settlement in Israel." He stared at the cards incredulously. Was Dean really planning on learning all these words? There was no way anyone could.
"Dad," a tentative voice called out from behind him.
John turned around and saw his eldest standing in the kitchen doorway. Dean had decided to tell his father about the money, maybe he'd change his mind about letting him go to Washington then.
"What's up, Dean"?" John asked his son.
"Can I talk to you for a second?" Dean asked.
"What's about?" John asked.
"The spelling bee," Dean said. There was no point in beating around the bush.
"We settled this, Dean," John said in a tone that indicated the discussion was over. "Learning how to spell..." he stopped and looked at the card again. "Kibbutz, is not going to help you stay safe."
"K-i-b-b-u-t-z," Dean rattled off with a small smile. "I know that, but 10,000 dollars can go along way."
"What's this about 10,000 dollars?" John asked.
"The winner gets a check for 10,000. That could really help us, dad."
"You have to win first, Dean." John pointed out. "You're going to be going against kids that grew up doing this. Kids who go to private schools that probably have classes devoted to this sort of thing."
"Bobby's helping me study for it. Did you know he almost made it to the nationals?" Dean said.
John picked up several more flashcards and looked through them, looking for what he thought, was the easiest word. "Spell 'mirhab'," John said.
"Um, what's the language of origin?" Dean asked.
John looked at the card. "I don't know. What difference does it make?" John said impatiently. "Can you spell it or not?"
"M-i-r-a-b," Dean blurted out.
"Wrong, Dean," John informed his son a little harshly. "That was the easiest word in this stack. If you don't know this one, how the hell do expect to learn all these," he swept his arm indicating the other boxes. "There's no way to learn all this, so there's almost no chance of you winning. Now go pack."
Dean's confidence in himself bottomed out. If his dad didn't believe in him, he didn't stand a chance. He had been so stupid to think he could do this. His head dropped and he stared at his shoelaces, suddenly finding them fascinating.
Bobby really wanted to pull out his shotgun and introduce John to the business end. He was not letting this continue. "It's an Arabic word, Dean," Bobby said as he entered the room. "Give it another try."
"Um, M-i-r-h-a-b," Dean guessed.
"Good going, kiddo. You see, John, it makes all the difference to know where the word comes from. It can help even if you've never seen the word. And during the competition, he's allowed to ask." Bobby picked up a box of flash cards and handed them to Dean. "Go get Sammy to help you with these. We'll do a little more work after dinner."
"But..." Dean said.
Bobby gave Dean a wink, telling Dean to leave his father to him. Suddenly, Dean felt a little sorry for his father.
John, all of a sudden, felt something connect firmly with the back of his head.
"Ow. Hey man. What the hell was that for?" John said as he rubbed the spot where Bobby had hit him.
"You need another?" Bobby threatened and raised his hand.
"Bobby," John said warningly.
"How could you tell your son that you don't think he has a shot at winning? Are you trying to break him?" Bobby said, a touch of anger in his tone.
"He needs to be realistic. He'd be up against..."
"You," Bobby interrupted.
"Excuse me?" John said in confusion.
"Who do you think he's been doing this for these last few months, Johnny? All he's ever wanted to do was make you proud. If you don't think he can succeed, he's going to convince himself that he can't."
"Bobby, I..."
"I'm not done," Bobby interrupted John again. "You should have seen your son these last few months. He's been like a different kid. His confidence is up, his grades are up. He's even made some friends that he studies with. Think about it. He asked you to let him do this. When has he ever asked you for something?" Bobby said.
"Almost never," John had to admit. "I miss my boys, Bobby," John said, admitting the biggest reason he wanted them with him.
"Then stay. Dean is going to need all the help he can get. Caleb can take care of the black dog, or Joshua might be able to," Bobby said, he could see John wavering. He just needed one final push. "Think of the money and how many hunts you could finance with 10,000."
"But can he win, Bobby? I'm not putting him down, but there is only one winner and about 200 people who are going to lose."
"He's got the same odds as anyone else," Bobby pointed out reasonably.
"Can he handle it if he loses?" John answered back. "Is he going to see it as failure if he loses?" John said stating a legitimate concern.
"We've had some discussions about this. He'll be disappointed, but he has to remember that just making it there is succeeding. There are thousands of kids that don't," Bobby explained.
"Alright. I'll call Caleb. If he can help me, Dean can stay and compete, but if he can't, I'll need his help," John compromised. "Hey Bobby, are you sure that's Dean?" John asked suddenly. "He's not possessed or anything is he? I mean, he hates school."
No he doesn't, he just wants you to think he does. "It's him alright. I put holy water in his lemonade," Bobby said with a smile.
--
The following day, John called Caleb to ask for his help with the black dog. Caleb, who'd actually been planning on going after a suspected witches' coven, had gotten an earful from Bobby the night before, so he agreed.
John then told Dean at breakfast that he and Sammy were going to stay with Bobby, and that he could compete in the spelling bee.
"Thanks dad," Dean said genuinely. He tried to hide his excitement. "Are you gonna come watch?"
"I don't know, kiddo, if I can get there, maybe. Knock 'em dead, okay?"
"Sure dad," Dean said, again trying to hide his true feelings, this time disappointment.
--
The day to leave for Washington had finally arrived. Seeing how shaken Dean was from the plane ride, Bobby refused to let Dean study the first day they were there, instead he took the boys out on a tour of the town. The next day, they only worked on words Bobby knew that Dean was having trouble with. He knew that it was very easy to get overwhelmed, especially with the big event the very next day.
On the morning of the competition, they arrived at the Grand Hyatt Hotel conference room early. Bobby took Sam with him and went to register Dean and get his number and when he got back to the conference room and looked for Dean, it was a little hard to spot him. All the kids in the competition were wearing white golf shirts, with the Scripps National Spelling Bee logo, and beige dress pants. Finally spotting him, Bobby made his way over to Dean.
"You feelin' alright, kid?" Bobby inquired when he was next to Dean. He looked a little pale.
"Ah, no. I think I'm gonna be sick," Dean said and suddenly took off for the bathroom where he proceeded to empty his stomach. Bobby followed him. "Come on, Sammy, I think your brother needs a pep talk."
They went to the bathroom and waited for Dean to finish. "Here," Bobby said handing Dean a ginger ale to help settle his stomach.
Dean looked at his coach and friend. "I don't belong here."
"Dean," Bobby said sharply. "If I ever hear you say something like that again, I'm puttin' you over my knee and tanning that backside. I don't care if it's on national TV. Are we clear?"
"Yes Bobby," Dean said automatically.
"You're just nervous. Now take a deep breath and relax," Bobby instructed.
"Yeah, Dean. I know you can do it. You're my brother," Sam said causing Dean to smile.
Dean followed Bobby's advice. He stuck close to them until he had to go take his place on stage, but he wanted to throw up again when he had to step up to the mike, a combination of the lights, the audience and the cameras making sweat break out on his face.
"Dean, your first word is pneumectomy," a voice said from beyond the lights.
--
John Winchester was in an airport just a few hours outside of Washington, DC. He was waiting for his plane to California, where there was a suspected woman in white, and he was in a cranky mood. The Impala needed a new transmission and John didn't have the money for the parts. He would have used a fake credit card, but he had to get new ones, so he left the car with a hunter friend that he trusted and set out for the airport. He got there just in time to hear that his flight was delayed. He sat in an uncomfortable airport chair watching ESPN when the National Spelling Bee came on.
He could hear the announcers talking about different kids when a familiar name caught his ear. He looked up and saw his son's face on the TV screen. John couldn't believe how nervous Dean looked.
"13 year old Dean Winchester from Watertown, South Dakota, is another one to keep on eye on. From what I understand, it's his first year on the circuit and he could be one of the dark horses to win this year," an official looking person said.
"That's my boy," John whispered proudly.
John startled. What the hell was he doing sitting in an airport when he should be with his son, watching him, supporting him? He stood up and stalked to the counter to rent a car. He could be in DC in a couple of hours.
"I need a car," John told the rental clerk. "I don't care what kind it is."
"Okay, we need to see a copy of your driver's license," the clerk asked.
John went to hand over a fake ID, when all of a sudden, he grabbed his real one as he saw Dean approaching the mike for the first round. He had an important announcement to make to everyone standing around him. "That's my son," he announced to everyone in the lobby, letting the pride come through in his voice as he watched Dean spell his word correctly. "I have to get to Washington."
The woman smiled at John. "Here you go, Mr. Winchester," the clerk said. "Good luck to your son."
--
Dean breathed a sigh of relief when the announcer told him that he had spelled his first word right. He had asked every question he was allowed to try to buy a little extra time to calm his nerves, so he didn't make a stupid mistake.
His word in the second round brought his heart right back into his stomach, when out of any hundreds of thousands of words he could have gotten, they gave him shtriga. He spelled it without a problem, but it brought up some unpleasant memories. He decided that if he could get through that one, he could get through anything, and his confidence grew as he worked his way through the rounds.
In the 13th round, there were five spellers left. The words were getting tougher and during that round, there were two more eliminated. It was now down to three. Dean stepped up to the mike for his turn.
"Argillaceous," said the official announcer.
"Argillaceous," Dean repeated. "What is the language of origin?"
"Latin."
"Definition please?" Dean asked.
"Of relating to, or containing clay or clay minerals."
"Argillaceous. A-r-g-i-l-l-a..." Dean trailed off, his mind going blank and his frustration growing. He knew this word, he could remember studying it with Bobby, but he was blanking.
"Can I restart?" Dean asked the judges. Calm down, he told himself firmly.
"Yes, but you cannot change the letters you've already spelled," he was informed.
Dean looked at his hands, hoping they could somehow give him the answer. He looked over to his brother, hoping for encouragement, but he did a double take because there with Sammy sitting on his lap, was his father. Suddenly he could see the word in his mind. "A-r-g-i-l-l-a-c-e-o-u-s, Argillaceous?" he finished and held his breath waiting for the bell to sound.
--
John ran into the fancy hotel and straight the conference room. Traffic had been heavy and he had prayed, for the first time in a long time, that he hadn't missed the whole thing.
All the seats were full so John picked up Sam and sat him on his lap.
"Good to see you, Johnny," Bobby said sincerely, with a touch of nervousness. Dean was struggling with his word.
John made sure that he caught Dean's eye as his son turned towards them. He saw Dean's face light up and Dean finished spelling his word. John cheered when the announcer said it was correct.
"Dean's kicking ass, daddy," Sam said proudly.
John ignored his youngest son's language and hugged him tight. "He is, isn't he?" John said proudly.
--
In the next round, all three of them spelled their words correctly, but round 15 eliminated one more contestant. Dean and another boy named Winston Palmer were the two finalists.
"We'll take a short break and commence with the championship round shortly after," it was announced.
Dean bolted off the stage and into his father's arms. "Dad, you made it," Dean said excitedly.
"This is where I'm needed," he confirmed. "I'm so proud of you, Dean," John said and ruffled the hair of his eldest.
Dean managed to spend some time soaking up the encouraging presence of his family before he and Winston were called back to the stage. There were 25 words in the championship round and if either contestant misspelled a word, then they had to spell the missed word, plus one of their own to win. If they spelled them all correctly, then they would be co-champions.
Dean was first. He stepped back up to the mike.
"Rhesus," the announcer said.
"Can I have the definition?" Dean asked.
"It's a type of monkey."
"R-h-e-s-u-s," Dean said.
"Correct."
John turned to Bobby. "How the hell did he know how to spell that?" John wanted to know. He would have said recesses, which is how it was pronounced.
"That's why you ask for the definition, dad," Sam explained.
"Thanks, Sammy," John said. "I'll remember that next time."
They were 15 words into the championship words when Dean was given the word, Merovingian.
"M-a-r-o-v-i-n-g-i-a-n," Dean tried.
Bing. The bell sounded.
Dean cursed himself and dejectedly walked back to his seat. Winston quickly stepped up to the mike.
"You need to correctly spell Merovingian and then another word, and you'll be the champion," the announcer said.
"M-e-r-o-v-i-n-g-i-a-n," Winston spelled.
"That is correct. Winston, if you correctly spell this word, you'll be the Scripps National Spelling Bee champion."
In the audience, Bobby and John were both wishing the kid would crash and burn.
"Xylophilous," the announcer said.
"X-y-l-o-p-h-i-l-o-u-s," Winston said.
"Congratulations, Winston, you are this year's champion."
There was applause and cheers from Winston's family as he celebrated and the announcers asked everyone to congratulate both boys for making it this far.
The awards came next. They watched as Winston was presented with a large trophy and the check. Dean received his own smaller trophy and he was awarded the second prize of 3000 dollars. It would still help his family, but not as much as the 10,000 would have.
"Bobby," John said seriously. "This is what I was afraid of. Look at him," John pointed out.
Bobby looked up and saw what John was talking about. It didn't show on his face, but anyone who knew Dean Winchester just had to look at his eyes to know how he was feeling, and John and Bobby could tell that Dean was beating himself up for losing, and feeling like he had failed.
When it was polite for him to make an exit, John and Bobby saw Dean take off through a side door.
"I'll go talk to him," Bobby said. He wanted to smack Dean's father. Bobby could understand being disappointed over not winning, but why the hell was Dean feeling like he had failed? He blamed John for that.
"I got this one," John said, quickly stepping in front of Bobby and heading off after his eldest.
He found Dean sitting in a stairwell.
"Dean," John said softly so he wouldn't startle his son.
"Hey dad," Dean said dejectedly.
"You did great up there," John said sincerely.
"I didn't win," Dean pointed out miserably. His father had finally come to see him and he had screwed up again.
John sat next to Dean and put an arm over his son's shoulders. He felt Dean lean into him. "Do you really think that's what I care about?" John asked his son. "I'm so damn proud of you right now, Dean, I don't even have the words to properly describe it. I mean, the work and commitment you put into this clearly showed. I couldn't spell half the words I saw you spit out up there. It takes a lot of courage to do this, Dean. Way more than hunting some evil spirit. I'm such a proud dad today, Dean, and I'll tell you who else is proud of you right now, aside from Bobby and Sammy, I mean."
"Who's that?" Dean asked curiously.
"Your mom."
Dean looked at his father, eyes glistening.
"I was debating whether to tell you that for the last couple of months, kiddo, I just didn't know if it would add extra pressure on your shoulders. Now I wished I had told you. Your mom would have loved to see you do this. She loved books, and words and learning. She's probably telling all the other angels all about you right now," John said sincerely.
"Thanks dad," Dean said softly, trying to keep the hitch out of his voice.
John hugged his son tight. "Come on, let's go celebrate. It's not every day I get to take out a champion."
"Winston's the champion, dad, not me," Dean pointed out.
"You are in my books, kiddo. What do you say we get some ice cream?"
"Chocolate chip?" Dean asked.
"Is there any other kind?" John said. He returned his arm to its spot across Dean's shoulders when they both stood up, and John led his son out the door, back to Sammy and Bobby.
The end.
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