Chapter 4
Tired and weary from his second week of full days at the garage, John walked into the house to the faded smells of dinner. Jim was locked in his study preparing his sermon, so John settled himself for some lukewarm leftovers and a bottle of beer. The house was quiet, almost too quiet. Finishing quickly, he took the stairs to the room he shared with the boys where Liz had Sammy in her lap and Dean on the floor. Dean pretended not to be interested in the story but paused far too often in playing not to be listening to the story. Sammy patted the book's pictures and repeated Liz's words.
Liz looked up and smiled. "We're in the middle of the story, John. Go on and get cleaned up. We'll be done by the time you're out."
"Dad!" Dean leapt from the floor and launched himself at his father's legs. "The teacher says I gotta have a meeting with you next week."
"I was going to save that for later." Liz winced. "I took the note from his teacher. It's on your dresser."
John nodded and patted Dean's head before stepping into the room to gather clean clothes and the note. He disappeared into the bathroom as Charlotte explained to Wilbur about the life of spiders. Running the shower to let the water warm, John folded open the note. "Mr. Winchester, I am very concerned for Dean's wellbeing. He draws nothing but fires and shadow figures. Please schedule a meeting immediately."
Taking that thought, he climbed into the shower to wash off the sweat and grease. Fresh clothes on, dirty clothes in the hamper, he examined his reflection. How he didn't look as old as he felt, he'd never know. Barefoot, he tramped back to the room where Liz was putting a bookmark in Charlotte's Web and Sammy snoozing draped over her. Dean had climbed into his bed but was fiddling with a fire truck.
Gently, he picked Sammy up off her, careful not to brush against anything he shouldn't as he did so. Holding Sammy against his chest, like a shield, he sat on the end of the bed. Then he felt Sammy's bottom. No diapers. He shot a glance to Liz. "Pastor Jim and I have been taking him to the potty and Dean's helping to show him how the big boys go."
"Are you gonna make him wear the plastic pants?" Dean asked from his bed, still spinning the tires on the truck.
"That's up to your dad."
"Maybe not." John shook his head. "He'll have to learn to get up at night."
"Daddy, he peed all over Pastor Jim's shoes." Dean giggled.
"You peed all over your…" John let the sentence die there. Mary's face had been priceless though. "He'll get the hang of it, kiddo."
"Okay, I'm gonna let you guys get to bed." Liz rose, tugging down her skirt. John had to force himself not to look right at that expanse of thigh. Or at her rear when she knelt over Dean to say goodnight. He was able to grin when Dean wiped the kiss off his forehead, which was unfortunate for him when Liz returned to kiss Sammy goodnight and nearby bumped foreheads with her. "Night Sammy. Night John."
"Goodnight." John nodded, swallowing down a lump that he wasn't ready to admit was there. Jim had caught him staring once or twice but hadn't remarked on it. John wasn't willing to go there. He could look. He was human… and it had been a long time. When she was gone, he took a moment before rising and laying Sammy down next to Dean. "Time for bed, kiddo."
"Night, Dad." Dean nodded and wrapped himself around Sammy before closing his eyes.
John turned out the lights and lay down to sleep but he knew it wouldn't come.
--
Jim watched John watching Liz. A whole month of John and his boys sitting still and it was due to her. Solving this mystery about the girl who crawled out of a grave with no memory. She took a real shine to the boys but only Sammy returned the affection. Dean didn't seem to like her as much but allowed her liberties no other woman had been allowed in two years.
Liz hung the laundry on the line while John cursed the busted dryer on the back porch. Dean sat perched on top, peering down into what his father worked on. Sammy ran around singing to himself and chasing leaves that blew around in the breeze. Then she dove to stop him from shoving a beetle into his mouth. "No, Sammy. Don't eat that."
The baby's response was to throw a handful of leaves in her hair. Then he was being led away by Dean to the porch where John was shaking his head. Liz got up and shook the leaves out, which made Sammy giggle. She made quick work of hanging the rest of the laundry then scooped up Sammy and grabbed Dean's hand. "Come on, guys, let's go see if the diner has pie. We can bring some back to your dad and Pastor Jim." They both looked to their father, who sighed and rested his elbows on the top of the dryer. "John, any preference?"
"Pecan?" John ached at the picture they made. "Boys, behave for Liz."
The trek was a slow one as Sammy had to examine every rock and tree along the way. Dean's hand quickly became sweaty but Liz thought it was nervousness. He still didn't speak much to anyone but John. They welcomed the chance to sit and examine the pie glass at the diner after the longer than necessary walk. Her boss smiled at them, tilting her head. "Liz, can't stay away?"
"Promised the boys some pie." She grinned. "Happen to know what Pastor Jim likes?"
"Pastor Jim is a fan of pie but I've seen that he's partial to lemon meringue." Angela opened the glass to cut a slice for a to-go box. "What about these handsome young men?"
"I like apple." Dean piped up and then sank down in his stool until just his eyes were visible.
"How about Sammy, Dean?" Liz ruffled his hair.
"He likes apple, too." Dean mumbled.
"Two apples, coming up." Angela grinned at him.
"Daddy said he wanted pecan, right?" Liz asked him just to get a response out of him.
"Yuh-huh." Then he turned wide green eyes on her. "What about you? What kind are you getting?"
"Oh… I don't know…" Liz stared at the glass. Suddenly, she realized that she didn't know what kind of pie she liked. "I don't know."
"You can get pecan like Daddy." Dean proclaimed and then ducked back into his position of eyes only over the counter.
Angela reached over and rubbed Liz's arm. "Everybody likes my pecan pie."
"I guess pecan it is." Liz gave her a wan smile. "I think that's our order for tonight."
"Can we eat our pie here?" Dean popped his head up again.
"I think we'll take everyone's pie back and eat it together… after dinner." She pinched his nose. "So we can make Daddy think it was a surprise for fixing the dryer."
"Yeah, okay." Dean pouted.
Liz lifted Sammy onto her lap while she counted out the money for the pie. Angela picked up the bills, refusing the tip and leaned on the counter. "You ain't… seeing that Winchester fellow, are you?"
"No." She tilted her head at her boss.
"These are his kids?"
"Well, yeah but…"
"I'd steer clear of him. Runs rough and rowdy at Stan's bar across the tracks."
"I'm not seeing anybody, Angela." Liz motioned to the kids. "I babysit. He's friends with Pastor Jim. Jim's letting me stay. The least I can do is help out with these two."
"Be careful, Liz. Lost memory or no… it's no excuse not to have your wits about you." She handed the box over. "It's not the first time he's come to town. He won't stay long."
The walk back was short, it seemed. Dean helping to keep Sammy in line. The boys were sweaty and tired by the time they started up the gravel drive. They found John lounging on the front porch, empty bottle beside him, face turned up into the sun. Liz had to catch her breath for a minute when he smiled suddenly, and then he leapt up to catch Sammy who squealed in delight. Pastor Jim took the sack from Liz to refrigerate until after dinner. She followed Dean's path to the porch. "Who won? John Winchester or the dryer?"
"Sad to say but the dryer did." John held up his hand, a bandage road the back of it, crimson marred the center. "Jim and I are picking up the new one on Monday."
"Well, let's hope it doesn't rain on the laundry until then." She smiled up at him before tweaking Sammy's nose and walking off to check on the clothesline.
John watched her walk away and found himself searching for something to say to her. Nothing came. Dean tugged on his hand to get his attention. "What's running rough and rowdy?"
"What?" John stared down at him.
"Liz's boss says you run rough and rowdy at the bar."
"Don't worry about it, kiddo." John sighed heavily. He hadn't been to the bar in a while but… he had stirred up a mess the last time he was there. He bent and snatched up his empty and herded his boys into the house. Jim nodded to John and tilted his head at the weary expression on his friend's face after the peaceful way he'd been sent out to the front porch an hour before.
Meatloaf, potatoes and peas for dinner. John was silent. The boys talked all about their walk. Jim egged them on as Dean was rarely this talkative… ever. Then Liz cleared the dishes before bringing out the pie. Jim grinned when his lemon meringue was placed before him. "Tell Angela that it's still delicious but I will not take the title away from poor Mrs. Aberman."
Liz laughed and nodded that she would. "Here you go, John. Angela assures me that her pecan pie is the best in the county."
"So is her apple pie, her peach cobbler, her cherry cobbler and her lemon meringue." Jim lifted his fork. "No one ever made pie except for Angela."
"Thanks Liz… for taking the boys with you." John nodded sincerely.
"Oh, it was my pleasure." She grinned at Dean, seated across the table from her. "So, I have a question for you."
"What's that?" John looked up from his pie, which was pretty danged good.
"Do you just like rock or Paul Rodgers in particular?"
"How's that?" He shook his head.
"I'm just judging from the expansive lyric collection in Dean's head that you've either got a thing for the tunes you listened to in high school or are a particular fan of Paul Rodgers."
"Little of both, I guess." He shrugged. He bowed his head with Jim cleared his throat. "Guess he takes after the old man. Tell her who your favorite band is."
"Zeppelin Rules!" Dean blurted out around a mouthful of apple pie.
John grinned and then helped Sammy to finish off his slice of pie. Not even the sugar high could keep the baby from crashing right there at the table. Taking the boy into his arms, John took his boys' plates to the kitchen where Jim was getting started. Liz touched John's arm. "John, go get him settled. I'll get the dishes."
John nodded then trudged upstairs with his heavier by the day load. He laid Sammy down in the bed. The boy was tired out by seven… and that was a rare gift.
When he returned downstairs, Jim was cleaning up the table and Liz was washing the dishes while Dean read out loud from one of his school books... So John took up a towel to do the drying. He listened Liz teach Dean without belittling him. To her guide him and keep him interested in the text. He knew that Dean often fell behind because they moved so much.
"Dean, sound that word out. Take it one letter at a time." Liz guided gently.
"K-K… Ko… Con…gr… at… Congrats."
"Good job, buddy." John called over his shoulder. Dean grinned and read with more confidence. Liz nudged him when suddenly Dean was a pro at reading. "He catches on fast."
"Last year, we tried him at bible stories. None of this luck." Jim cut in when he entered the kitchen. "All our Lord's stories were lost to him."
"He's always been that way, Jim. Don't take it personal. Used to fall asleep in church when he was a baby, too." John laughed.
"Winchester men and their lack of faith. It's a trial of my time." Jim shook his head. "Come young Dean. Enough learning for now. I hear there's a Fall Guy on television."
"You're going to rot your brain with that crap." John swatted Dean with a dish towel on his rush to the living room.
"He's a smart kid. He might have some brain cells to spare." Liz joked.
Jim and Dean left the kitchen for the thrill of primetime and left Liz and John to finish the dishes. John paused with a towel inside a pot. "Thanks… for taking them today. Really. I was in a pissy mood from dawn. I was… pretty close to throwing one or both of 'em over a fence."
Liz bit back a laugh. "John… I haven't known you very long but I already know that patience is not one of your virtues and… still, you've got more patience than you think when it comes to those two."
"Today, it almost failed me."
"You're a good father." She gave him a sideways hug. "Anyone can see it."
John froze but hugged her back. "Sometimes… I'd tear my eyes out just for some adult company and… I forget how to talk to people."
"It happens." She looked up at him. "Jim gave me the highlights on what happened to your wife." She cut him off when he looked upset. "I asked him… after the thing with Dean's drawings. I just wanted to understand." She turned to watch Dean watching TV. "When I think of that and the little boy who stomped on my foot and… the way he was today… He's amazing, John. Just… amazing."
"Yeah, he is." John finished drying in silence, then joined the others for some late night TV. Cringing when he thought of the previous spring when he'd put a gun in his son's hands and asked him to shoot bottles off a fence. Of how proud he'd been when Dean had busted every one of them. Of how low he'd sunk when his six year old would come to him in the middle of the night to comfort his own father instead of the other way around. Yes, Dean Winchester was an amazing little boy. Far more amazing than he should have had to be.
Four beers later, John knew he should have stopped two beers ago. He tucked Dean into bed with a beer in his hand. What kind of father was he? He stumbled out of their room and nearly ran into Liz in the hallway coming out of the bathroom. She steadied him against a wall, slipped the bottle out of his loose grip and set it on the ground. She followed him down when he lost his legs. Cupped his face to catch his attention. Saw the tears and held him while they came.
When the sobs and tears silenced themselves, John leaned back against the wall and found the beer to polish it off. Let Liz dry the tears on his face with her hands. Let her whispers attempt to soothe the ache that was two years old. There they sat. A man with no future and a woman with no past, arms and legs tangled around each other's in a preacher's house.
TBC