A/N: More John comfort, more Dean cussing.

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural. This is for entertainment only, and not for profit.

Chapter 11 – the hearts and flowers routine

I gotta take a leak.

Bladder's full. That's the first thing I notice, even before I open my eyes. Can't see any light through my eyelids, and all I can hear is Dad's voice, but I can't make out the words. It's like he's in the next room or something.

Maybe he's leaving me. Right now. Sounds like he's talking to somebody. Don't know why he's still here. Maybe he's leaving, and I woke up on the tail end of it. How the hell can he trust me? How can he even stand the sight of me after all this?

I lie there for a few seconds more, then decide fuck it. Doesn't really matter whether Dad's here or not. I gotta move or I'm gonna piss on myself.

I remember whaling on him in the kitchen. That wasn't Dark, and that wasn't any mind fuck.

That was me.

I just didn't want to be touched. Tired of it. Now I just feel tired, like I could sleep for a week.

Dad's gonna leave me, for real and for good. I know he will. And I won't blame him. Not one friggin' bit.

I open my eyes as I sit up. Window shades are wide open; it's near dawn, I think. I see the empty chair by the bed, and the door to the hallway is cracked open. There's a light out there, and I can see part of Dad's shoulder.

He's standing with his back to the door.

I slide out of bed and as soon as my feet touch the floor I know I'm not gonna last long. Oh, hell. I gotta go. Right freakin' NOW.

That door on the opposite wall has gotta be the bathroom. I'm scrambling, trying to hold myself in. Floor's hardwood and if I piss on it Dad will probably make me clean it up with a toothbrush. I hit the light switch and grab at the toilet seat lid, kick the door closed behind me.

Yep, this is the place. Feels good to let it out and I'll be damned, I don't see anything green.

I shake myself off, wash my hands. I'm halfway into the room when I remember the noise I made when I closed the fucking door in the first place.

Damn.

Dad's still out in the hall when I come out. He hasn't moved, and maybe he didn't hear.

Yeah, right. And pigs fly.

All the damn time.

I ease up to the door frame, lean over a little, and listen.

"No," I hear Dad rumble. "I can handle this, Jim. Uh huh. He got mind-fucked tonight."

Damn. Dad told Pastor Jim?

Fuck. I slump against the wall. Yeah, that's right, tell Pastor Jim, Bobby and everybody else that we know how big a fuck-up I am. Spread the word. Watch your backs if you go on a hunt with this boy. He's not right.

"Fugs got the drop on him, that's all….what? No, I'm not." Dad pauses just a moment. "We're not driving out to Blue Earth. We're fine right where we are." Dad gets quiet, and I can imagine Pastor Jim telling him, "After all that's happened tonight, John, you're going to sleep in the same house with him? Do you really think that's wise?"

"Not gonna argue with you about this, Jim. Dean's fine."

I shake my head. No. I'm not fine. 'm not…

I push myself away from the wall just then, and it's a good thing too.

"Call you later on then…" Dad says, and when I hear that I dive for the bed. I turn over real quick, pull the covers over me, put my back to the door a split second before the door swings open. I close my eyes, breathe in and out, nice and slow. Maybe I fooled him. Maybe he doesn't know….

"Rise and shine, kiddo," Dad whispers in my ear.

Hell, maybe he does.

Damn, I didn't even hear him walk up.

"Get dressed. We're gonna spar."

Son of a bitch…

Five minutes later we're outside, standing underneath this big oak tree in the front yard.

Dad looks tired. Eyes are kinda bloodshot, and he's favoring his hurt shoulder. Great. Fucking great. That's not gonna save me. He's gonna kick my ass.

And I'm gonna let him.

I'm not gonna argue with him about this. Why should I? What the hell could I ever say that would even make a difference?

Dad rolls his shoulders, and I don't move, not even when he starts circling to the left. "Come on, Dean," Dad rumbles. "Let it out."

I move to the right, and I can barely raise my arms.

Dad steps in, dodging, weaving. I manage to block as I backpedal. My skin stings like a bitch as he hits me. I don't want this.

I drop my hands. Next thing I know everything goes white around me, and when the fog lifts I'm on my back. Got a pretty good sized bruise on the side of my face, and Dad's standing over me with his hands balled into fists. "Come on, get up. Let's go, Ace. This is no time for a nap."

I get up and get knocked on my ass this time.

Aw, fuck it. I sit there with my head bowed and my shoulders down.

"Uh, Dean?"

"Huh, Dad?"

"What the hell are you doing?"

"I fucked up. You know it. I know it. Kick my ass and get it over with." I look up at him, and there it is again, he's looking at me like I've lost my friggin' mind.

Dad stands there like he's giving what I said some real serious consideration. Then he puts his back to the tree, lowers himself slowly to the ground. "Nah. Don't feel like it anymore."

I lift my head up just enough. "Christo."

Dad laughs. Nothing.

I look up at the sky through the tree branches. I always liked dawn. It's a good thing to see, especially after a hunt. Tells you that you made it. Gonna live another day.

"Why are you being so damn nice to me? I fucked up, big time, and you're not gonna…you're not gonna rip me a new one? What's with all the hearts and flowers routine?"

Dad takes a deep breath, puts his back against the tree trunk. "In this line of work, you pay a hard price for mistakes." It's not a Marine lecture. This is something else. I don't know what it is, but I'm starting not to like it. "Sometimes, though, you get a second chance. If you survive those mistakes, your ass better learn from it, so you don't make another one."

"Yeah, well…you never fucked up like this."

"Terry, Oklahoma. Witch hunt, a few years back. You remember that?"

I nod a little. "Sam had the flu." I couldn't go on the hunt because I broke my arm fighting off this damn black dog.

"I got the drop on the hag, but she mind-fucked me before she died. She wanted me to go back and kill the people I loved most in the world. Wanted me to kill you and Sam." Dad shook his head. "I came back that night around midnight, remember?"

I nod slowly.

"I pulled onto the parking lot, and I could see you sitting in the window of your bedroom."

I remember that. Remember sitting there staring out at the parking lot, remember staring at the Impala and hearing her engine and I was so damn glad that he came back. Sam was asleep, and I couldn't sleep because my arm was hurting a little and I was worried about Dad.

"I sat there, and we stared at each other. Remember?"

I couldn't read Dad that night, and it scared me. He just sat there in the car and we stared at each other and I thought maybe he was mad at me 'cause I broke my arm and couldn't hunt.

"You wanna know what stopped me from coming in? You. You did. Seeing you sitting there. That quiet look on your face. I wanted to hurt you and Sam…" Dad shook his head. "I couldn't do it. I couldn't."

I remember.

Please, Dad, don't leave me.

Dad backed the car up and drove off.

Sam never woke up. I didn't tell him. Never did. We were okay. We'd be fine. Rent wasn't due again for another couple of weeks, and we had canned goods and some stuff in the refrigerator. I told myself that Dad was coming back. I did.

But I never really believed that, not until I saw him again, ten days later.

"I fought it somehow. Drove all the way to Blue Earth with that damn thing screaming inside my head. Once I got there, Jim knew what to do."

I can't think of anything to say.

"Dean?"

My throat closes up. My mouth's bone dry, feels like I'm strangling.

"What's on your mind, son?"

"Nuh…nothing." I shake my head. I was wrong about that. Just another fucked up notion I had. If I was wrong about that…what other stuff have I been wrong about?

"You were wide open, and they knew it. You stopped yourself, Dean. I could tell. You didn't go as far as they wanted you to." Dad looks at me, and I don't feel like squirming anymore. Can't describe it any better than that.

"I guess you're right."

Dad nods. "Now I don't expect this to happen again."

"Yes sir."

"As far as a punishment for this, well…" Dad smirks a little. "I'll think of something."

All I can do is nod. Oh hell yeah. I bet he will.

Dad flinches a little as he pushes against the tree trunk and gets to his feet. He comes over and leans down with his left hand out.

"Come on, sport. Break time's over. I call do-over."

I take his hand and let him pull me up but as soon as I'm on my feet I see Dad's eyes flicker. I duck the blow he aims at my head and I move backwards. My body feels light and my head's not buzzing like it was before.

Dad grins a little. I'm making him bring the fight to me.

Five minutes later we're standing toe to toe, trading punches. It's me and Dad, and Sam wouldn't get it if he was here. He wouldn't understand about me and Dad, and you know what? I don't expect him to understand. Not anymore.

This is what we are, and that's more than enough for me.

Next chapter will be posted on Sunday, and I'm going to add one more chapter after that, from John's POV. After that, we're done.