AUTHORS NOTE: HEY PEOPLE! Here is the next chapter…ENJOY!
P.S. This story has turned out to be way more dramatic then I wanted it to be…but hey it works so I guess it's ok:)
MERRY LATE CHRISTMAS PEOPLE!
Chapter 14. I Can't Make It Go Away. John's Pov.
"How is he?" I ask as I step out of my truck. Bobby sighs.
"Not good." He answers, looking towards the house. "He's been trying to keep himself busy so he won't have to think about anything."
"Doing what?" I ask, only imagining the shit he'd do to avoid emotional topics. Bobby leans against the truck with his arms crossed and it's then that I realize he look like he's dead on his feet.
"First he tried to clean the kitchen up a little bit, but I stopped him from doing that so he wouldn't get his stitches wet. Then he went to working on the nursery doing God knows what in there. Then he worked on organizing my desk before I forced him to go to sleep."
"And he's sleeping now?" He nods.
"He's in his room if you want to go check on him." I give him a small smile and head into the house.
It's been two days since the whole incident went down and life is shit; Dean is hurting and I wasn't there for him when he needed family the most. I tried to see him yesterday but Bobby called me saying that it would be a bad idea if I came, so I listened and stayed away.
I open the bedroom door quietly to see Dean lying in bed on his side, the blankets only covering his legs. One of his hands is resting on his stomach which is cushioned by a big pillow to keep the weight from pulling on his back. I smile fondly at the sight and remember Mary pregnant with both Dean and Sam doing this…God I wish you were here Mary, Dean needs someone who can understand what he's going through right now. I need to be here for Dean, I did a horrible job before and I need to prove that I can actually be a good father.
"Mmm Dad?" Deans voice mumbles tiredly, his eyes fluttering open to look at me.
"Hey Son." I say, plastering a smile on my face. I walk into the room and sit on the edge of the bed. He rubs his eyes with his hand and looks up at me.
"What are you doing here?" I help him sit up and he props a pillow behind him.
"I wanted to see how you were doing."
"I'm doing fine." He says automatically.
"Bullshit Dean." He looks me in the eye. "I know that while you were growing up I kinda gave you the wrong idea about showing emotions but you can't hide what you're feeling son."
Every time I see Dean hiding his pain I feel like something is stabbing me in the heart. I taught him that emotions were weakness and I feel like a horrible father for doing it. Dean is the strongest person I have ever known and I unintentionally lead him t believe that if he shows his true self he's not being the 'perfect little soldier' I raised him to be.
"Shit was said, I got stitches, it's not a big deal." He says, his eyes drifting down to the end of the bed. I bring up my hand, gently grab his jaw, and move his head until his eyes are back on me.
"Stop this Dean, the sooner you admit exactly what you're feeling the sooner you'll feel better." I let go of his jaw and his eyes drift back down to the end of the bed. "Say something Dean."
"What do you want me to say? That I feel like shit? That I'm scared that I'm going to screw up these kids lives? That I feel like I did something wrong while taking care of Sam for him to say any of those things?" His tone sounds sarcastic, but tears begin to gather in his eyes. "God I'm sick of this fucking shit." He says while pinching the bridge of his nose and my heart breaks a little. My son is hurting so badly and I can't make it go away…
"Dean." I shift my body till I'm sitting next to him with my back leaning on the headboard. "This is all my fault; I should have gotten the stick out of Sams ass before he left the hospital."
"I don't want to talk about it right now." I look at his tired eyes and nod. I wrap my arm around his shoulders and pull him into my side.
"I'll be here when you want to talk about it ok." He nods his head and continues to look forwards, leaning against my side.
The last time I held Dean like this was when he told me he was pregnant; the emotions he was hiding for months were finally coming out and it took me hours to calm him down. To me this is a way of showing him that I'm there for him even if he doesn't wanna talk; that I'm his silent support.
"Dad." He says after a few minutes.
"Yeah son?" I squeeze him gently and he sighs.
"I…" He's cut off by the sound of my phone ringing and I groan in frustration. I pull it out of my pants pocket and look at the name on the caller ID. Sam. "Are you gonna answer it?" Dean asks, not knowing whose calling.
"Um, yeah, I'll be right back." He nods and I get up out of the bed and walk out of the bedroom.
"What do you want Sam?" I ask quietly after I close the bathroom door behind me. His breathing sounds labored and I start to feel worry. "Sam?"
"Dad." He says breathlessly.
"Sam what's going on?"
"I-I had a vision." I feel my eyes widen and I go to sit on the edge of the bathtub.
After I got Sam from Stanford he would have these horrible nightmares. At first I thought it was just his mind coming up with freaky shit after him watching his girlfriend die, but then the nightmares started to come true…he would watch people die in his visions and by the time we got there to save them they would usually already be dead; we've only saved a woman and her family.
"What was it about?"
After a while I put more research into these visions….and now I know why he has them…
"Dean." Sam states and I instantly feel nauseous. "He was…" I cut him off.
"I'll be right there." I snap my phone shut and the next thing I know I'm throwing up into the toilet.
Not my son…God not my son. My baby boy won't die…just… oh god.
"Dad?" I hear Dean voice outside the door. "Are you ok?" Once I finish dry heaving I lean back against the bathtub.
"I'll be out in a minute Dean." I say roughly, rubbing my hand down my face. I take a few deep breaths and stand up, walking over to the sink to rinse out my mouth. I dry off my hand on the towel on the counter and I open the door to be meet by Dean's worried eyes.
"Dad are you ok?" he asks, his hands cupping his stomach.
"Yeah, I must'a ate something…" I trail off, looking at my boy. I will do anything so save you son. "Um I'm going to go back to the hotel to grab some things; I'll be coming back in a couple of hours." He nods and I pull him into a hug with difficulty, his distended stomach sandwiched between us.
"Are you sure you're ok?" he asks as I pull away. I plaster on a fake smile and squeeze his shoulder.
"Yeah of course I'm ok, I feel a little tired from throwing my guts up but other then that I'm great." He doesn't look convinced but he doesn't push. "Why don't you go back to sleep, you look like you need it." he nods his head in agreement and rubs the back of his neck.
"I guess I'll be seeing you later then."
"I'll be here when you wake up, I promise you." He turns around and slowly waddles into the bedroom, closing the door behind him.
Nothing is going to happen to you Dean. I can't make the pain you're feeling now go away, but I sure as hell can make sure nothing bad happens to you…
END OF CHAPTER! So what do you guys think? Like it? Hate it Please review and let me know!