Fly to the Angels
Chapt
12/13
Summary: Dean has to face his own memories, a trip home, an
estranged father, and his own mother.
Disclaimer: Supernatural and them guys are not mine. This is not for profit
A/N: Thanks for all the reviews. Should be one more after this
Chapter 12
Missouri sat at the kitchen table, a warming coffee in her hands. A ticking clock made its presence known in the silence of a house full of men. The comfort of the coffee and the rhythm of the clock soothed and lulled her against the varied emotions flittering around her and the house.
The boys had slept the remainder of the day away and again the night had crept up unnoticed. She herself had got some sleep the previous night, but after waking up several times with an uneasy feeling sitting upon her chest, had finally given up. She was sure something had happened when, out of the blue, Sam's anguished cry ripped through her head, and for second of an instant, she had been connected to all three; Sam, Dean and Mary, and had seen both scenes, like a broken reel of film. As quick as it happened, it vanished, and she was left scared and confused in her bedroom, and slightly paralysed with numbness, eyes wide full of panic. By the time she had found use of her body again, she had rung John, unashamed fear and urgency in her voice. John's voice met hers, hissing tightly with concentration as a break of tyres were heard in the background, informing her that they were already on the way to the hospital.
Missouri had never experienced anything like that before, and somewhere within her, she knew it wasn't her doing.
Sam, she thought.
That boy had a gift, abilities, that were stronger than her own.
The brief inter-cut of broken scenes left her agitated and buzzing with adrenaline, and after a while, she left and headed over to the hospital, where Sam had explained what had happened. But of course Missouri knew, just as he did, that Sam did not know what had truly happened. Only Dean did. Lying just as silent as he would have been if he was awake. When Sam and John slipped out of the room to talk to the doctor, she had bent over Dean's body, laying her palm against his forehead, 'I saw it Dean, I saw it".
Rain tapped against the window, jolting her back to the here and now, and Missouri shivered at the sight of wind thrashing against the trees outside and at the presence she felt that had just entered the room.
"John Winchester" she said, looking down into her mug, "Do you think I don't know what you're doing?"
"I hate it when you do that" John said, behind her, from the doorway.
"You might have experience of sneaking out on your boys" Missouri said, not bothering to turn around and face him, "But I'm in tune with this house and everything in it".
John walked further into the room, until he leant on the table with both his arms, palms spread out.
"I'm not sneaking anywhere" John said, a small grin on his face.
"I know what you're planning" she said, turning and fixing him with a knowing stare.
John sighed and roughly pulled a chair out, letting his body slump into it.
"I have to go" he said, sighing loudly and rubbing his face tiredly.
"I know" she said, sipping her coffee quietly, "Doesn't mean I like it though".
John smiled and threw her a wry grin.
"Nobody's asking anyone to like it" he said, "Just accept it".
Missouri glanced over the rim of her mug before sipping it again.
"I've spoken to Sam" he continued, one hand spread out over the table, with a small laugh, "He doesn't like it. Made sure I knew" he paused and winced slightly as he sat back on the chair, the hard wooden frame digging into the small of his back in the exact same place the window ledge had caught him as Sam had pushed him, "But he accepts it, maybe even understands it a little. He's thinking of Dean right now" he paused and ran his tongue over his lips, "We both are. I'm thinking of my boys right now".
Missouri stood and walked around the table, placing the mug into the sink.
"She spoke to you" Missouri stated, slowly turning around, arms hugging herself, as she leant against the sink, "Didn't she?"
"You can tell…?" he asked, turning to her.
"There's just something… about you" she said, waving her hand in his direction, "Feels like Mary was with you".
John nodded and smiled brightly that shone with the briefest of happiness.
"You don't have to tell me what she told you" Missouri said, continuing to stare at him, "That's something between the two of you. But I'm guessing it has something to do with this".
John turned away and looked down at the table.
"Some things were shared" John confessed, "And I need to check some things out, and until I know for sure that my kids can stand on their own two feet – and this" he paused, laughing disbelievingly at the events of the last few days, "It took a lot out of us all, especially Dean. I don't want them involved".
Missouri took a few steps back to the table and slipped into a chair, next to John, but opposite to where she was previously sitting.
"You don't have to explain it to me John" she said, taking his hand in hers, "But for your sake, I just hope your boys can forgive you".
spnspnspn
Dean looked at his father, sat out on the porch, the house quiet behind him. Sam was upstairs in the room that they had shared. Dean hadn't seen Missouri for a while and wondered if she had gone out.
Outside, and beyond the protection of the porch, it was raining, harsher than the previous night.
He stepped further out of the house, coming to a stop by his father's side, and lowered himself down beside him.
"Hey"
"Hey" John replied.
John glanced at Dean, still seeing the tired smudges under his eyes. He was wearing a hoodie that he didn't recognise. One of Sam's, he thought.
"Wearing your kid brother's clothes kiddo?" he asked, good-naturedly, nudging Dean's arm with his own.
"Couldn't find my own" Dean replied, yawning, and then lifted his arm to his nose, sniffing the sleeve, "Besides, mine was starting to smell".
John grinned at him and returned to look out across the wet garden, drops of rain falling from overhanging plants and leaves.
"Listen Dad" Dean began, "About mom…"
"What?"
"I just thought" he continued, trying to find the words, "… that you should know…"
"Don't Dean".
"No Dad…" Dean stumbled again, "It's just… you should know…"
"I know" John said, smiling as he turned from looking at the garden, catching Dean's eyes, "I know".
Dean tore his eyes away, glancing out and reflecting the pose his father had just had.
"It's just; I've been walking around with mom in me -"
"Don't I know it" John snorted under his breath.
"What?"
"Nothing" John coughed, clearing his throat.
"Whatever" Dean said, before rubbing his eyes with the knuckles of his bunched hand, "… So, I'm sorry. This must have been hard for you".
"Seriously Dean, I'm o.k." he paused, placing his hand on Dean's arm, "I know how your mother feels about me and she knows how I feel about her. There's nothing you have to tell me that I don't already know".
They both became silent, looking out across the damp garden and street, the paving shiny with rain that refused to penetrate, leaving a glossy layer instead.
"You're leaving again" Dean spoke up quietly. It wasn't spoken as a question. He was merely stating a fact.
"Yeah, I am" John confirmed, watching as a light appeared in a window of the house, opposite, across from them, reminding him that there was life beyond the silent house that they were sat against.
"I figured" Dean said, "Sam's walking around like a bear with a sore head".
"I'm sorry" John offered, "I would have told you before, but you've been out of it for a couple of hours".
Typical, Dean thought sarcastically, his father was apologising for not telling him before Sam, and presumably Missouri, not for the fact that he was leaving. Again.
"It's o.k." Dean shrugged stiffly by his side.
"I got some possible leads" John explained, glancing at Dean, "I need to check them out".
"The demon?"
"Maybe, I don't know"
"Right" Dean laughed bitterly by his side. Dean knew that his father was lying. Nothing had changed there.
"It's not…" John began, "I'm not just taking off. I don't know what I'm heading into and until I do –" he paused, biting down on his lip, "I mean you and Sam need some time to regroup. You need some time Dean. Get back on your feet".
Dean stood up quickly and feeling like he should do too he rose up with him.
"I can handle myself"
"I know you can. I just want to make sure." John said, and his next words, which he hated with a vengeance, were said to seal the decision, "I will always have your back Dean, but I need to make sure that you have mine".
Dean didn't say anything in reply, and for a minute or so, just stared at John unflinching, before a small nod shook his head.
"I just want to let you know -" John began as he remembered Mary's words to him
'They're special, John, they're important'
'Don't you understand that by pushing them away, you're hurting them more, especially Dean'
'They need to know you care'
'Don't push them away'
'He wanted you there'
'What are you doing to our son's?"
"- That…" but for the life of him, John Winchester just couldn't bring himself to form the words on his suddenly dry lips. Maybe it was male pride and self preservation or maybe simply because it had just been so long since he had been that honest with anyone, so bare and intimate with his sons. Such a long time ago, he thought, as a memory of a smiling four year old running across their front yard and into his arms flashed through his mind.
He closed his eyes in guilt. Please forgive me Mary… Dean, forgive me.
"It's o.k." Dean stalled his failed attempt at bridging the gap, "I understand".
But John didn't think he did. Not really.
"Where's your things?" Dean asked, looking out and over to the truck, now sat out on the drive. This, John thought, Dean already knew.
"Already packed and in the truck" John spoke quietly, "I've just been waiting till I spoke to you".
"Right" Dean laughed dryly, pulling the hooded top tighter around him, "So you're leaving, like now?"
John looked at his son, and found himself trapped in his gaze once again, their positions so similar to that of nearly two days before, and he was instantly reminded why he felt he saw Mary in him. It choked at him like a cloak smothering him, and he pushed down at the ache in his chest, threatening to rapidly spread and devour him completely.
This was harder than he had expected, harder than Sam's suppressed and simmering anger, and most definitely harder than Missouri's weird balance of understanding and disapproval. This was Dean being complacent and quietly controlled. But his eyes, his eyes still said, 'Please don't leave. Not like Mommy' like he had said when he had finally broken out of his traumatised silence sometime before his fifth birthday. After months of a silent and sullen four year old, who had numbly followed him everywhere he went, complying with order and requests like a brainwashed child, he'd finally found his voice after waking from a nightmare and whispered the small words to him.
"Dean…" he began, but he really didn't know what to say. He wanted to break and whisper back 'I'm coming back' but he knew, from bitter experience, that promises like that were doomed to be shattered and lost forever. It hadn't stopped him from saying it the four year old Dean once was though.
"You know what?" Dean stated with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, "I'm o.k. Really, I am".
John stalled as Sam appeared behind Dean, a hard set to his eyes and face.
"You leaving then?" Sam said, as he fell into place next to his brother.
"Looks like it" John replied, glancing between his son's and the strong wall their bodies had formed.
"You should go Dad" Dean spoke again, watching as the rain lashed down onto drive and John's truck.
"Yeah, I should" John said, stepping closer to them. He hesitated for a second, and then pulled Dean into his arms, "I'll call you".
"You better" Dean quietly said back, body stiff and unrelenting in his arms, before pulling away.
John turned his attention to Sam and slowly pulled him into a hug and Dean watched how Sam too stiffened until he slowly relaxed and tightly embraced his father back with the first intimate contact they had shared in years. Dean realised at the sight of Sam's tight enclosed eyes and knuckles digging in deep to their father's jacket, just how much his brother had missed, long before he had even left for Stanford.
John leant in close to Sam and murmured something into his ear, to which Sam pulled away, nodding.
Dean watched as their father walked away from them
He watched as he climbed into the truck and their eyes caught once more.
He watched as the truck rumbled to life and backed up, peeling out of the drive and into the road.
He watched as their father pulled away, finally, leaving muddy tracks like tears on the road, as the rain quickly and savagely beat down and washed them away.
"Are you o.k.?" he heard Sam say quietly beside him, their arms brushing.
"Yeah Sammy, I'm fine" Dean said, slowly smiling back.
He was fine. He would stay intact no matter what happened. Tears wouldn't affect him He wouldn't be hurt or broken. He was dry and the rain would just fall off him. Nothing of liquid nature was going to mess with him…
'The rain just falls off of me
The tears just fall off of me
'Cause I'm waterproof, I'm waterproof
The pressure you're exerting is irrelevant to me'
'The skies are starting to cloud up
But that won't slow me down
Your eyes are starting to well
But that won't bring me down'
'It's misdirected, your voice inflected, for maximum sympathy'
'The rain just falls off of me
The tears just fall off of me
And nothing of liquid nature's gonna mess with me'
'The rain just falls off of me
The tears just fall off of me
'Cause I'm waterproof, I'm waterproof
Water, Water everywhere, but not a drop on me'
From the Sparks song 'Waterproof'
tbc