Again sorry for taking so long to update. But here is chapter 5. I hope you enjoy.
As always a big thank you to my beta reader Soar, and to Sinead-Conlan and JuliaAurelia for all their help with the chapter.
Disclaimer: Still don't own them.
Chapter 5
The young man sat stiffly in a shirt and tie, across from the woman dressed in judicial robes.
"I've made my decision," she said.
"Can I go back to my dad and Sammy?" the boy asked.
The woman suddenly laughed, a cold, hard sound. "No. Sammy is doing so well without you that I'm going to leave him with the Randalls. I'm going to make the arrangement permanent. You'll never see your family again."
"NO!" 27 year old Dean Winchester shouted, instantly waking his father and brother from their deep sleep.
"Dean," John said in concern and made his way over to the bed where Dean was thrashing in some kind of nightmare. "Wake up, son." John reached over and gave Dean a small shake, hoping to rouse him from his slumber.
Dean opened his eyes and stared at his father, when he suddenly felt his stomach heave. He bolted from the bed, ran to the bathroom, and emptied his stomach of all the pizza and beer he'd had earlier that evening.
"You okay?" Sam asked when Dean eventually sank back against the bathroom wall.
"Fine," Dean gave the expected reply.
"Here, son," John said, joining them in the bathroom and handing Dean a bottle of water, which Dean accepted gratefully. John gestured to Sam to follow him and give Dean a minute to compose himself. Sam knew that Dean needed this and reluctantly followed his father.
It was about 10 minutes before the young hunter finally exited the bathroom. He smiled sheepishly at his father and sat on the edge of his bed. He was tired, but the nightmare was still fresh in his mind. He really didn't want to go back to sleep, but he read the expression on the faces of his father and brother. They wanted to talk and Dean wasn't sure what was worse.
"Want to talk about it?" John asked, his tone implying that this wasn't really a question.
"Nothing to talk about," Dean deflected.
"You wake up screaming in the middle of the night, and you're saying your fine. You can't honestly expect me to believe that," John said.
Dean tried to shrug it off. "There was this girl..."
"Nice try," John cut him off. "Talk," he ordered.
Dean remained silent. He didn't want to talk about this.
Sam walked over and sat next to his brother so that they were shoulder to shoulder. "It was about getting taken from dad that time wasn't it?" Sam guessed.
John walked over and sat on the other side, effectively pinning Dean in the middle. "Please son, talk to me," John pleaded.
Dean gave a deep sigh. They weren't going to leave him alone. "They were going to take us permanently," Dean admitted with a shudder. "Said Sam was doing so well with his new family."
"It was always temporary, Dean," John said trying to reassure his eldest son.
"But…" Dean started. The dream had seemed too real.
"Dean," Sam said. "There was no way the Randalls wanted to keep me. Trust me on that one, okay?"
Dean looked at his brother. "Sammy, what did you do?"
"Remember that story you read me, Dean? The Ransom of Red Chief."
"You didn't," Dean said.
"Oh," Sam said with a laugh. "I did."
--
PAST
Seven year old Sam Winchester was still crying hard as Tammy Nickerson led him toward a waiting blue sedan. The only thing he was certain of was that he wanted Dean and his daddy.
"It's okay," Tammy said to the distraught boy. "The Randalls are very nice people. I'm sure you'll get along splendidly."
"IIIII wwaannnttt Deeeeaaannnn," Sam wailed. "WWWHHEEERRRR'SS MMMYY DAADDDYYY?"
"Your dad and your brother are both fine. Your dad just needs a bit of help to look after you and your brother properly," Tammy explained as she opened the door to the back and placed Sam in the seat. She got into the front and started the ignition.
Sam sat sniffling in the back of the car. He was scared and he wanted to go home. He tried to pay attention to where they were taking him, but there were so many turns he couldn't follow. What would Dean and his daddy do? He thought about it all during the drive.
They eventually arrived at a small, yellow bungalow and Sam barely remembered being introduced to the Randalls. His first clear memory was being horrified when he was led into a clown-themed bedroom.
They were everywhere. On the wallpaper, the bedspread, the sheets, and there were several stuffed ones on the shelves.
"All little kids love clowns," Andrea Randall said. "We get boys and girls so we decided a neutral theme would be best."
--
Present
"That's why you're afraid of clowns?" Dean asked in disbelief.
"They were everywhere. Talk about overkill," Sam said with a shudder.
"I'm sorry, Sammy," Dean replied trying to sound sincere. "If I had known, I never would have teased you all those times."
"Yes, you would have," Sam replied, not believing Dean for a minute. "That was your job as a big brother."
--
Past
Sam looked around the room in disgust. He hated clowns. He opened his duffle bag and pulled out a picture of his daddy and Dean and set it on the bedside table. As he did, one of his books fell out of his bag. He reached over and picked up a copy of Ransom of Red Chief. Dean had read this to him. Sam suddenly missed his big brother so bad it hurt.
He had seen the book in the store and begged Dean to buy it for him. He liked the name of the man that wrote it, O. Henry. It was the name of Sam's favourite chocolate bar. He would beg Dean to read him the story of the little boy who had been kidnapped. The boy had been such a brat that the kidnappers kept trying to return him.
That's when the idea popped into his head. He'd be such a brat that the Randalls would be begging his daddy to take him back.
The first thing he wanted to do was get rid of the clowns. He looked on the shelves and saw a set of markers. He thought about scribbling over the faces, but he remembered all the times his family took off in the middle of the night, and how often things got left behind, or broken. No, he wouldn't destroy something that wasn't his.
First, he examined the bed spread. The underneath was just plain blue so he pulled it off, along with the sheets, and turned them inside out. You could still see the clowns, just not as much. Then he flipped the bed spread over. He went to the shelf. He thought about putting the clowns under his bed, but that creeped him out, so he stuffed them in his closet. He'd lived out of his duffle bag plenty of times, he could do it again. He'd just snag some salt from the dining room to put in front of the closet door. He just wished there was something he could do about the wallpaper.
"Sammy, come get lunch," Andrea said stepping in the room. She looked around with a frown. "Not a clown fan, huh?"
"Clowns are evil," Sam said with conviction.
Andrea gave a small laugh. "Point taken. Do you like peanut butter and jelly?"
"Yeah," Sam said. He was hungry.
He followed Andrea into the kitchen and sat at the table as the woman put the sandwich in front of him.
"I don't like red jelly," he announced, putting his plan in motion. "Dean uses green."
"I don't have any apple jelly, but I have grape, would that be better?"
"Green," Sam insisted.
"Okay, how about you eat that for today and tomorrow, I'll go to the supermarket. Is there anything else you want me to pick up?" Andrea offered kindly.
Sam just shook his head. He pretended to choke down his sandwich. He was actually very fond of red jelly.
It continued like that through the weeks. When Andrea bought the apple jelly, Sam informed her it was the wrong brand and refused to eat it. No matter what Andrea bought, it was the wrong color, or flavor, or brand name. It seemed nothing could please him.
When he wasn't in school, Sam spent his time rearranging Lloyd's carefully arranged alphabetical bookshelves and movies. He hid Lloyd's car keys, snuck into their room at night while they were sleeping and turned off their alarm clock. He did the opposite of pretty much whatever they told him.
His favourite comeback whenever they tried to talk to him about his behaviour was, "But that's how Dean does it."
Six weeks later, by the time Sam had left, Andrea and Lloyd decided they never wanted to hear the name Dean again.
--
Dean looked at his little brother in a new light. "Why, Sammy, you little devil. I never knew you had that in you."
"Too bad it didn't work," Sam said regretfully.
"Hey, Sammy, you were seven," John replied.
"Yeah, but we still ended up there for 6 weeks."
"It was never you boys. It was me. For whatever reason, that social worker didn't like me. After about 2 weeks, I lucked out. There was a new garage opening in town and they were looking for mechanics. The guy that ran it even offered me the apartment above the shop. I was told that wasn't suitable though, because there was only one room. I said you boys could share it and I'd take the pull out couch. That wasn't good enough," John said bitterly. "I was told you boys had to have separate rooms. She insisted that Dean was growing and needed his own space. Believe me, when they finally let me see you, I was seriously tempted to knock out the security guard and just take off."
"Why didn't you?" Sam asked.
"I don't know. There was security everywhere and getting caught doing that was not an option, or I could have lost you two for a lot longer than I did."
"We did end up taking off, though, didn't we?" Sam asked. That time was still a bit fuzzy.
"Yeah. It was tough to find a three bedroom apartment. Most of them wouldn't rent to someone who had 1 weeks work history at a brand new garage. Too much of a risk. There was one apartment complex that agreed to rent if I could come up with first and last months rents, and security deposit. It would have taken me weeks to come up with the money and there was no way I could afford it on what I was making."
Sam and Dean looked at their father. This was something they hadn't heard before.
"How'd you manage to get it?" Dean asked curiously.
"I worked out a plan with my boss at the garage. He loaned me enough money to get the apartment for a couple months. Then I would take off, and meet him at his place and it would give us a chance to lay low until the heat was off." Again, John's mind supplied.
"How come that guy helped you out so much?" Dean voiced the question he and Sam were both thinking.
"We had a lot in common. He found my journal and admitted he was a hunter, too. He was in town to help his friend get his garage off its feet. He apparently ran a highly successful salvage yard."
"That's how you met Bobby?" Sam asked in surprise.
"Yup. I was reluctant to trust him at first, but I called Pastor Jim, who assured me that I could."
Dean was just as surprised as Sam. After they had got out of foster care, they'd arrived in South Dakota, at the home of Bobby Singer.
At first, Dean had thought he was just a grouchy old man, but quickly discovered that was all an act. They had stayed with Bobby for a long time, longer than Dean could ever remember staying in one spot. If Dean had thought he was grateful to him before, it was nothing compared to what he was feeling now.
"Without Bobby, you boys would have been in foster care a lot longer than six weeks. I'm telling you, it was the worst time of my life. I just wanted to crawl into a bottle and get stinking drunk until they gave you back to me," John admitted.
"Why didn't you?" Sam asked hoping his father would answer. His dad wasn't usually this talkative.
"The courts kept using the word temporary. I wasn't about to do anything to risk it becoming permanent," John explained feeling a little guilty. He had changed a few parts of his story.
He had spent the first two days in a bottle, then Bobby had found him and offered him the job, and helped him get the apartment, but Sam and Dean didn't need to know about that failure. He had let them down so many times, he didn't want to do it again.
Sam and John both felt Dean stiffen at their words. "What is it, son?" John asked gently, worried for a second that maybe Dean had picked up on some discrepancy.
"Nothing," he replied, eyeing the door.
"Forget it," John said rising from Dean's side, standing directly in front of him and planting a hand firmly on Dean's shoulder.
"What's bugging you? Please Dean, talk to me?" John pleaded.
"I… um," Dean wanted to get it off his chest. He'd been carrying it around for so long.
"Dean, did something happen?" Sam asked his brother.
John felt his temper grow, not at his son, but at Dean's foster parents. If they had hurt his boy in anyway, he already had the targets of his next hunt picked out.
"No, they didn't do anything?" Dean said sadly knowing what his father was thinking. "I did."
"What are you talking about?" John asked.
"You and Sam did all you could to get us back together. I..." he stopped abruptly.
John wrapped his arm around his distraught son. "What is it, Dean? What do you think you did?"
"I almost kept us apart."
--
Past
Dean's tears had dried up by the time the other court officer, a woman named Beth, loaded him into another official car and drove him to the home of Kandace and Edward Harden.
Like he often did when something overwhelmed him, Dean had retreated deep inside himself, and by the time they got where they were going, he had gone completely mute. He wouldn't speak or acknowledge anyone.
Kandace and Edward Harden had been foster parents for 6 years, and they often took the kids that the system deemed difficult. They were used to kids smart mouthing, threatening, and they'd even had a few react physically. They weren't used to someone who was quiet. Dean didn't look like he would be any trouble, and they were wondering why he'd been sent to them. Still, you couldn't judge a book by its cover.
"Your room's right this way," Kandace told him. Dean followed her down the hallway, to a small room in the back. There wasn't much there. It had white walls and a small green throw rug on the floor. The shelves contained a few toys and books that had been left by other kids. The sheets on the bed were beige, but they were clean. The room was better than some of the places Dean had stayed in. He sat on the bed and grabbed his backpack. The only thing he removed was the picture of his parents. He set it on the stand next to his bed. Then he changed his mind and stuffed it back in his bag. He had let them take him and Sammy, his mom would be so disappointed.
Suck it up, Winchester, he told himself. Just worry about how to get back to Dad and Sammy.
He hadn't missed the looks his foster parents were giving him over the first couple of days, and he decided that he had better start acting normal, or they might send him some place worse and not let him see family. Both the Hardens relaxed when Dean started talking that night at dinner.
It was a couple of days after that when Edward asked Dean to get into the car. He had an appointment. To Dean's ears, the guy actually sounded proud.
Not wanting to go, but knowing he had no choice, Dean followed and he was extremely surprised when they drove through the gates of a school called Eden Academy.
"Is this right?" he asked. Surely his foster parents didn't send their charges to private schools.
"Yup," Edward said with a smile. "Your old teacher, Grace Albright, recommended you. It's a school that works with gifted students."
"I'm not gifted," Dean protested. "This is just a waste of time. Can't you just send me to the same school as Sammy? I want to see my brother."
"You can in about two weeks. You have a visit scheduled then."
"Sammy needs me," Dean protested. "Dad needs me."
"Your father's just run into some hard times. He just needs to get himself straightened out."
"He is,"Dean said in a cold, hard tone. "We were doing just fine until everyone decided to butt in."
"Your dad left you in charge of a 7 year old for two weeks. You're a kid too, Dean. You shouldn't have to bear that kind of responsibility."
"Sammy is my responsibility. I'm his big brother. It's my job to look after him. My dad's the best dad in the world. You don't know a damn thing about us."
"I'm not trying to be your father, Dean..."
"You aren't fit to tie his shoes," Dean said rudely. He was not going to tolerate anyone putting down his father.
Edward tightened his fingers on the steering wheel. He knew that the kid was hurting, and he didn't want to make the situation worse. "I'm not going to get into that debate with you, buddy..."
"DON"T!" Dean thundered. "DON'T YOU EVER CALL ME THAT AGAIN. I HATE YOU! YOU'RE NOT MY DAD!"
Edward was glad that they had pulled into the parking lot. He reached over and laid his hand on Dean's shoulder, not surprised when the boy shrugged it off. "I'm sorry," he said sincerely. "I won't call you that anymore. You're hurting. I get that, Dean. I'm not some heartless jerk that I can't see it. To be honest, I don't care if you like me, but I will tell you right now, mister, I will not tolerate rudeness under any circumstances. What would your dad say if he could see you now? He'd be so disappointed in you, don't you think?"
He would, Dean realized as Edward's words hit home. If Dean had talked like that to any adult, no matter what the reason, in front of his father, he'd never sit comfortably again. "I'm sorry," Dean mumbled softly, addressing the floor mats. The fight had drained out of him completely.
"That's alright. I know this can't be easy, so we'll just pretend this never happened." Edward wondered if had had said the wrong thing about Dean's father, because it seemed as if the spark in Dean's eyes seemed to drain out of him along with his anger. Was the kid that desperate for his father's approval?
Maybe they were right to take him, Edward stated to himself. Maybe getting this kid away from his father was a good thing.
--
A short time later, Dean found himself sitting in a small room with what looked like an IQ test in front of him. Most of the questions looked easy, but Dean was seriously considering deliberately, answering all the questions wrong. He didn't want to go to school here. Just as he was about to check off the incorrect answer, he stopped. Maybe if he did good, behaved himself and stopped acting like a spoiled brat, the court would see that his dad had done a good job raising him and they'd let him go home. Deciding that was the better course of action, Dean checked the correct answer and quickly made his way through the rest of the test.
After an interview and an oral exam, Dean was finally allowed to leave. He'd answered all the questions to the best of his ability, but he was convinced that he wasn't going to get accepted. So he was extremely surprised when at dinner the next night, Kandace told him that he would be starting at the school on Monday.
"Dean, stop fidgeting," Kandace said as she drove Dean through the front gates.
"I look like an accountant," he complained in a whining tone that had Kandace trying not to laugh.
"It's not that bad."
"Why do we gotta wear a uniform anyway?" Dean questioned.
"It's the rules, bu…" She stopped. She'd been about to call him buddy. "Dean."
"Rules suck," he mumbled.
"They do, sometimes, don't they? I bet your dad is proud of you for getting in here. It's not easy."
Dean gave her a small smile. He hoped his dad was proud. Edward had told her about his suspicions and she was beginning to understand what he was talking about. Dean's mood seemed to be tied directly to his father. If you slighted him in any way, Dean angered easily and was quick to defend. If you implied that his father would be disappointed in him, all fight drained out of him and he toed the line. If you said something positive, he eagerly agreed. What saddened both of the Hardens was that when you told Dean his father would be proud of him, he gave this small smile liked he hoped it was true, but he didn't quite believe it.
To Kandace, who was a child psychologist, Dean had all the signs of an abused child. She knew that he'd been examined thoroughly by a doctor and there wasn't a mark on him, but she knew that some kinds abuse didn't leave a mark, and left wounds that took far longer to heal than a physical injury, and she felt her heart going out to the young boy sitting next to her. No eleven year old should have to bear the weight of the world on their shoulders.
"I bet your mom would be too," Kandace added tentatively. She wasn't sure how he'd react to his mom being brought up.
His mom would be proud? That was something thathadn't occurred to Dean. He did want his mom to be proud of him. "Maybe it won't be too bad," he mumbled, not looking at Kandace.
Dean walked into his classroom and looked around. There were only 7 other kids in the classroom and they were all dressed like him. Blue blazers with the school crest, white dress shirt, and a blue and green striped tie. The boys wore grey pants, and the girls wore tartan kilts that matched the colors on the tie.
"Hi," the girl next to him said. "I'm Sophie and this is Mark, Ben, Jackie, Ian, Becky and Michelle."
"Dean," he introduced himself.
"I'm glad you're here, man," the boy named Ian said. "It sucks getting stuck without a partner."
Dean looked around. Were they talking to him? He was more than shocked when the day ended and he had invitations from all his classmates to hang out. Dean declined. He just wanted to get home and start his homework, which he'd had a ton of.
Much to Dean's surprise, he actually liked the school. He was able to do his work as fast as he wanted, and the other kids were smarter than he was, so he could answer questions and do his work without sticking out like a sore thumb. He even went over to Ian's house one day after school. He felt a little guilty because he enjoyed himself. Was it wrong to have a good time if he wasn't going home to his dad and brother at night?
--
Present
"Is that why you're feeling so guilty? You liked the school they sent you too," Sam replied.
"That's nothing to feel guilty about," John replied. "The courts were keeping me updated with what was going on with you boys. I was proud of you, Dean," John said sincerely.
"Thanks," Dean confirmed. "That's not it though."
"What was it?" John asked looking for clarification.
"They..." Dean stopped.
"Dean," John prompted.
"I heard Tammy talking to Kandace when we got back from that visit with you. They wanted to... she said..."
"Dean, it's okay," Sam said, putting a hand on Dean's shoulder and trying to calm him down. He could tell Dean was about to lose it.
Not being able to take it anymore, Dean pushed out from under the grip of his father and brother and paced the room like a caged tiger.
"Son, you need to get this out," John encouraged.
"I... I overheard the conversation."
"You said that," Sam reminded his brother. "What was it about?" he asked.
--
Past
Kandace and Edward had a silent conversation with their eyes. They were on their way back from the court house, where Dean had just had a visit with his dad and brother. They were worried about the boy they had in the back seat. The three Winchesters had been so happy to see each other. The problem was that the visit had to end, each of the boys going back to their respective foster homes. The separation hadn't been any easier than it had been that first day in the courtroom.
Dean had been quiet and subdued for the rest of the day. He stayed in his room and refused to come out. The next day, he'd gotten in trouble at school for mouthing off to his teacher. The art project that day had apparently been making fathers day cards.
Tammy Nickerson had been making her rounds and checking up on the kids she was in charge of. After visiting with Dean, who kept asking to go home, Tammy truly felt bad when she couldn't give him a time frame. Dean made his opinion on that quite clearly known, with more than a few choice words thrown in.
Kandace wanted to talk to Tammy about the possibility that Dean was being mentally abused by his father, and although she felt awful for doing this to him, she walked into the room.
"Dean Willman, you know better. Edward and I do not tolerate that kind of language. Now apologize to Mrs. Nickerson and go to your room."
"You can't make me, Kandy," He sneered. "You're not my mother and Ed is not my father."
She hated being called Kandy and tried not to cringe. "No, but how do you think they'd react to this blatant display of disrespect. Think of how disappointed they'd be."
True to form, Dean went still. He looked for a second like he was about to cry, but the glistening tears dried fast. Kandace wondered if she might have gone too far by bringing Dean's mother into it. His shoulders slumped and he turned and stalked off to his bedroom, then he slammed the door so hard that it shook the whole house.
"Sorry about that," Kandace said apologizing for Dean.
"I'm used to it," Tammy said. "I hope he's not being too much trouble for you and Edward."
"On the contrary, he hasn't. He had some problems initially, but that's to be expected. Then he really settled down. He's so different from the kids Edward and I are used to dealing with. Except for a bit of trouble recently, I've got nothing but glowing reports from his teachers. He's very intelligent, working on an eighth grade level in most subjects. Mr. Karsten, his math teacher, has Dean working at a 10th grade level, and he's flying through the work. They all say he's a joy to work with and he has a bright future ahead of him. He's extremely helpful around the house. He's usually pretty respectful. I think visiting with his father kind of threw him off track. It has to be rough on him. He worships his dad, but..." she trailed off.
"What?" Tammy asked.
"I wonder about Dean's father. I mean, I know a lot of kids put their dad on a pedestal, but Dean, he just..." She stopped for a moment to gather her thoughts. "It's like pleasing his father and obeying orders is all Dean seems to live for."
Tammy frowned. "I'm not sure what you mean."
"Well, you saw how he just reacted. If you tell Dean that his dad will be disappointed in him, Dean shuts down, like he did something wrong. Kids make mistakes, they make their parents mad, but Dean acts like it's the end of the world if he feels that he let his father down. It's almost like he's been programmed to obey, to look after his brother, or follow orders. I read the file the court gave us. It sounds like the poor kid's his father's slave rather than his son."
Tammy thought about the information she had been given. True, there had been no signs of physical abuse, and accounts from teachers and John's friends had made the situation appear what it was. A single father down on his luck, who just needed some help to get his life together. She hadn't really had a psychological evaluation done. Had she missed some sign?
"Maybe I'll arrange for a psychological evaluation of Dean. See if there may be something going on."
"I'd appreciate it," Kandace said sincerely. "I know I'm not supposed to get attached, but I can't help it. There's just something about Dean. He's doing so well here with school, he has friends. I know he misses his brother, but I don't want to give him back. I hate the thought of him going back to his father, there's something about that man I don't like."
"I know, I feel the same way. He actually thought that a one bedroom apartment above a mechanic's shop was a suitable home. I put a stop to that. I figure the boy will be with you for a while at the rate his father's going."
"How is his brother doing?" Kandace asked curiously. "Dean talks about him so much."
Tammy shook her head. "He's having some adjustment problems. He's acting out. Nothing too serious, though. I have to admit I'm a little surprised. I didn't think the Randalls would have any problems with Sam. He seemed like such a quiet kid. I thought Dean would be trouble and that's why I recommended he be placed with you and Edward. I can't deny that Dean is doing remarkably well under your care. I'm sure his brother will come around as well. Taking those two boys may have been the best thing that ever happened to them. He doesn't deserve a father who treats him like a servant. Trust me, Kandace, if there was any way for me to give Dean to you permanently, I would."
--
Dean had been sitting on his bed berating himself for the way he had acted. He was supposed to be showing people what a good job his father had done raising him. Being polite to court officers was a big part of that. He decided to swallow his pride and go apologize to Miss Nickerson. He wasn't sorry, but he had to be respectful and polite to others, just like his dad had told him, even if he was just acting.
He stealthily walked down the hallway toward the kitchen. He was just about to enter when he heard the conversation about his dad treating him like a servant, and his flourishing under the care of the Hardens.
Then he heard the words about staying here permanently. He quietly made his way back to his room. This time he didn't even try to stop his tears. He had screwed up again, so badly this time that they were going to take him away forever.
He opened his duffle bag and pulled out his picture of his parents, hugged it to his chest and lay back down on his bed. "I'm sorry, mom. I'm so sorry."
--
Present
John just stared at Dean, dumbfounded at what his son had just revealed. "Dean," he said softly. "You did nothing wrong. Don't, son," John said holding up his hand to stop Dean's protest. "Kandace Harden had no right to do that to you. Nothing you did could disappoint me, Dean. They used it to make you behave." John was trying to keep his temper in check. He didn't want Dean to think he was mad.
"But they were going to send me to a psychiatrist, they wanted to keep me."
"I got the job and the apartment. I met all the conditions, and I even had a friend of Bobby's pretending that she would look after you when I wasn't home. They would have had a hard time proving what they were saying," John tried to convince himself. He had treated Dean like a servant and he still felt guilty about that. He just didn't know what else to do.
"I was 11. I didn't know that then. I thought I had messed up again, and because I was doing so well, they'd use it against you."
"I'm sorry you had to go through that, son," John said sincerely. He still hated the fact that when they'd gotten to Bobby's, he'd had to ask Dean to go back to playing down his intelligence. "I'm going to say this once more. You bring it up again, and I'll beat it out of you. You did not mess up. I was so proud of you. Now, I don't know about you two, but I need some sleep. Dean, think you can go back to bed?" John asked knowing that Dean wanted to change the subject.
"I'm gonna stay up for a while," he said with a small grin. "You can take the bed, Sammy."
"Thanks," Sam said with a yawn. "Thanks for looking out for me."
"You're welcome, Red Chief," Dean said with a wink. While his father and brother went to their beds, Dean sat down at the laptop.
"You better not be surfing porn, Dean," Sam said half asleep.
"You're no fun," Dean mumbled as he brought up Google and typed in physics lessons in the search bar. They had a hunt to prepare for.
TBC
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