After John dropped Dean off at the car, he sat staring at the dashboard for a while. He had a huge decision to make, the hardest decision of his life. Was it worth disturbing someone's life for a rumor his dad might have heard years ago when he was watching his son in coma? Would it be right for him to walk into a kid's life when they were six years old not knowing what Olivia told them about him? What if Olivia had spent the kid's whole life telling the kid Dean abandoned them? What if she told the kid Dean was dead? What kind of jerk shows up on a doorstep six years too late and asked to see a child he wasn't supposed to know about? On the flip side, though, there could be a little kid in Massachusetts with his eyes, one the deserved to know him, one that was growing up without a dad, one that had the right to two parents. Growing up with one parent sucked. Dean knew that, how could he sit here and think that it would be okay for his kid to grow up the same why he did? What if it was a little girl? Didn't a little girl need a dad? Didn't a little girl need someone to hold their hand and have little tea parties with and to kiss skinned knees? Didn't a little boy need someone to teach him to fish and throw a ball and ride a bike? Wouldn't his life have been so much easier if his mom had been there? He thought about how different his life would be if he mom was around all the damn time. He spent a decent amount of his life trying to figure out a way to bring her back, to make it better. Why should he let another little kid grow up thinking they weren't good enough for their dad to stick around? What kind of person was he if he just ignored these responsibilities?
Dean hit his forehead against the steering wheel. This was the situation he was trying to avoid by calling her when he was in the hospital. This was why Dean wrote her a letter telling her that if she wanted to talk to him to call Bobby. This was why he called her sixteen time is three days after he woke up from the coma trying to figure out what was going on. He didn't want to have this problem. He didn't want to feel guilty about something he shouldn't feel guilty about. He did everything he was supposed to. He did everything right. It should be on him to go back and check on an ex-girlfriend to make sure she wasn't pregnant. He was screwed either way. Either he was a horrible dead beat dad, or he'd be a freak showing up to mess up two people's lives years too late.
This was a no win situation. Dean hated no win situations, spent a good chunk of his life doing his best to avoid them. There was no amount of research he could do to know what was best. There was no hand book on what on this. He couldn't call up Bobby and ask him. He thought about Olivia, the look of fear and confusion on his face when she cried into his shoulder the night she told him she might be pregnant, how she did her best to avoid telling him in the first place. Maybe it was in his best interest to just leave well enough alone. If Olivia needed him she had Bobby's contact information. Lord knew that if Bobby got a call telling him Dean had a kid he'd be blowing up Dean's phone to get a hold of him. Probably chew him a nice brand new asshole for not doing something about it.
He looked up at the purple-black sky through the windshield looking for the right answer. Sam always told him he'd know what the right thing was. His dad had told him he'd make the right choice. But he couldn't figure it out. He didn't know what to do. His eyes stung. He didn't want this. He did everything he could back then, everything he thought was the right thing. Dean didn't know what it said about him to walk away, to pretend his dad had never told him, wasn't sure if that made him a coward or bad person, but he didn't want this. He didn't want to sit around and feel guilty about something he couldn't control. He'd be a shit dad anyway.
Maryland was a relativity easy hunt. This history of the house was pretty public knowledge. A woman supposedly murdered her husband and three of their children and buried them in the basement. Now the spirit of the man killed every woman that ever dared entered his home. It was said to be because he was afraid it was his wife coming back to kill their two children that weren't killed the first time around. With his new EMF meter he was able to find the body in the basement quickly, dig it up before night fall, a simple salt and burn that took all of a day to complete. Seeing his homemade meter light up in the presence of a spirit was one of the proudest moments of his life. He'd done something good; real good. This was going to be a huge asset in upcoming hunts.
He pulled into the parking lot of the motel he was staying in for the night and contemplated heading north. John wasn't done in Minnesota yet, he'd have time to drive up to Massachusetts and find out what was going on before John wrapped up whatever he was doing. Instead he grabbed a paper, started looking for new cases that would take him away from the east coast. He knew the Midwest always had more than its share paranormal activity.
Dean decided to call his dad the next morning, figure out what to do next.
"Hey, Dean, where are ya?" John asked when he picked up on the second ring.
"Maryland," Dean answered. "That job was a lot easier than I thought it would be, my EMF meter works. Lights up like a Christmas tree when magnetic fields change."
"Maryland," John sighed. "Decided against what we talked about?"
"I did what I thought was best," Dean answered. "No point in showing up outta the blue about something that ain't none my business."
"Alright," John replied. "If that's what you think it best. I can't make ya do something ya don't want to. I just thought…"
"What?" Dean questioned.
"Nothing," John said. Dean could hear the disappointment in his voice.
"You want me to go up there?" Dean asked. "I thought about it, Dad, I did. I thought about it the whole ride this way. When I left Amherst with Bobby I wrote her a letter telling her what was going on with me. I gave her Bobby's information, phone number, address, everything, if she wanted to get in touch me with she could have. She didn't want to. It's not my place to fuck everything up."
"Whatever you think, Dean," John sighed into the phone. "Why are ya calling?"
"I just wanted to know what you're plans were," Dean said. "Where do you wanna head after you wrap it up out there?"
"I'm thinking Missouri," John answered. "If you were reading the paper and the weather reports like I told you to, you'd notice that we got lighting storms and all sorts of crazy shit going on, looks a whole hell of a lot like that thing from Oregon."
"Alright," Dean nodded. "So I'll meet ya there?"
"Fine," John sighed. "Be there in a few days."
"Why are you being such an asshole?" Dean spat into the phone. "I didn't do anything. I called you like you said to."
"Don't talk to me like that, Dean," John replied into the receiver. "You know damn well what I'm upset about and I really don't think I need to explain myself to you. Just go to Battlefield Missouri and let me know what motel you check into. Understand?"
"Yes sir," Dean sighed.
The phone went dead and Dean just stared at his cell phone. He could never seem to do right; no matter what he did his dad would find something wrong with it. After twenty years of listening to his dad's disappointment, Dean figured he would be used to it by now, but that wasn't the case. He still wanted his dad to tell him he did well. Be proud of that broken Walkman doing everything Dean promised it would. But no, why would his dad do that?
Missouri was a steaming pile of nothing. If that thing was there, it was gone by the time Dean and John got there. The two of them sat in the motel Dean picked out trying to find new gigs somewhere nearby. John was pissed, but that was a major part of his personality. Dean did his best not to take it personally, but it was his dad, and he was mad at him again for something he couldn't control.
"If you'd been paying attention we woulda gotten here sooner," John shrugged. "If you ever listened to me, this would be taken care of by now."
"Really?" Dean shook his head. "It's my fault that thing that's been allusive for over twenty years disappeared again? Sounds about right."
"Don't disrespect me," John spat. "I told you to do something and you completely ignored me."
"I asked for advice," Dean replied. "About a situation you know nothing about. I used that advice to make a decision. It just wasn't a decision you liked. I don't want that, Dad. I don't want to tied down to something like that. It's not my place to go destroying someone's life for no reason. I don't need to drag another little kid and a chick into this life. They deserve better than that. And without me butting in up there they'll be just fine. Right now they're doing just fine without me. I don't need to go around screwing up anyone else's life."
"Just cuz you don't want kids doesn't mean you get to walk away," John said seriously. "If that girl… Dean, if that girl had your kid out there, you can't just pretend it didn't happen. You have a responcibitly to her, and that kid. You don't get to just say fuck it and walk away."
"I'm not," Dean defended. "I'm really not. I didn't know. What was I supposed to do, read her mind? It was seven years ago. That kid would be six years old now. If she needed me or if it was my kid in the first place she knew how to get a hold of me."
"You can't just pretend it never happened," John shook his head.
"I'm not pretending it didn't happen!" Dean yelled. "She knows how to get in touch with me. If she wanted me to know about it, she would have told me. She would have called me back. She would have called Bobby after we left. Just because you overheard nurses talking while you were in a waiting room while I was in a fucking coma doesn't mean that I should drop everything a run a decade later. If you really thought I knocked up some high school girl you have dragged my ass back there when you found out we were at Bobby's. And you know damn well that if Bobby had an ounce of intell telling him Libby was pregnant he wouldn't have let me leave the fucking hospital. I didn't do anything wrong. If she had my kid, she didn't want me to know. So I'm just gonna leave it, cuz it's the right thing to do right now. I don't need to go knocking on her door and fucking up her life on an old rumor."
"You don't know what you're missing out on," John shook his head.
"Speaking from experience?" Dean laughed shaking his head. "Cuz you know all about missing out on shit? Sammy used to complain about it all the fucking time. 'Why didn't Dad teach me how to ride a bike?' 'Why were you the only one who cared how well I did in school?' Cuz you didn't give a fuck about either of us. Dumped us on whoever would take us, left me to raise my kid brother. So that's the role model I got to work from, your fantastic example. I'm just doing the same frickin' thing you do to us. And the kids probably better off anyway. I'd be a horrible father."
"You shut your fucking mouth," John demanded. "You don't know a damn thing."
"I fucking lived it," Dean replied. "You say that there's a whole bunch of shit you'd changed. You'd treat Sammy different; you won't be such an asshole about him going to school. You go spy on him at Stanford. You talk about how fucking proud him you are."
"I am," John said. "I'm real proud of what your brother's accomplished. He's done real good for himself."
"What about me?" Dean whispered. "What about me who follows you around the fucking country never asking you why. Just following doing whatever you say. Why aren't you proud of me? Why is everything I do wrong?"
"I'm not fighting with you," John rolled his eyes. "Stop acting like a little girl."
"I'm not," Dean groaned. "I'm not, I'm just asking you a question and you're ignoring me, again. Why don't I matter? Why is everything still about Sam? You haven't talked to him in three freakin' years. I'm here with you every day. I'm doing the job that you trained the two of us to do. Sammy bailed. I stood by. You should… I don't know… give shit."
"You matter," John sighed. "Is that what you wanna hear? I'm glad your stupid toy works. That it lights up and makes noise or whatever. You happy now, Princess?"
"No," Dean whispered so quiet he barely heard it himself. "I'm not. Cuz you're just being an asshole. Why don't you tell people you've just met that you're proud of what I do? You go and tell a guy that works in airport control room you've met once how proud you are of Sammy and just look at me like I'm in the fucking way. I'm sitting working on something that's going to be helpful, that's going to make the job easier and you fucking laugh at me and tell me it's a waste of time."
"You took a part a Walkman," John sighed. "Calm down, you're acting like an idiot. I don't got time to deal with you PMS-ing . I got a job to do. If you wanna have a nice long cry about it, do it on your own time."
Dean grabbed his jacket off the back of chair as he stood up. He put it on and fished the keys out of the front pocket.
"You go get drunk," John called after him. "I don't want you behind the wheel of that car. You crash it, it'll be the last thing you ever do."
Dean rolled his eyes. If his dad cared half as much about him as he did that car he might not feel like this, like he had no control.
Dean loved his dad, honestly, he'd die for him, he'd jump no matter how high his dad asked him to, but sometimes he was just… just a dick. Maybe working apart was better. Maybe Dean should start looking for his own hunts. Sam seemed to be doing well without them. Maybe that's what Dean needed, a fresh start. He wouldn't cut his dad out. He knew how much it hurt when Sam did that to him, he couldn't do that, but maybe he'd just put some distance between them for a while. He didn't need to feel like he was holding his dad back. He was good, real good, at the job he did. He had plenty of solo hunts under his belt as evidence. He didn't need a partner. He could do it alone. Maybe that would finally prove that he was good enough. Maybe that was all he needed.
AN: I'm getting very close to the end of this story. If it works the way I want it to (Dean seems to be fighting me), the next chapter will the conclusion.