Faith of Forsaken Fathers-

When Dean was done washing Sam's shoulders, he told him to go lay down. Sam discreetly went and put another shirt on. And he did as Dean had told him. Except, he went and lay down in the reclining chair he'd moved to Jack's room.

Deep in the night, Jack woke up to a feeling a soft glow. For a split second, in his sickness haze, he thought Father. That signature of light was the same that Lucifer put off, except brighter, undefiled by the darkness in Lucifer's heart. And then Jack realized, through the glare, whose soul it was he was seeing. The vessel of Lucifer his Sire.

Jack lay there watching Sam sleep for a moment, realizing with a sudden threat of childlike tears that this is what it meant. To have a "father". The man who had just bled out from his own collapsed mind was laying here in a chair beside him, a glass of water and a box of fever tablets laced in his fingers in case Jack needed them. Pale as he was having bled out from the trials of his cheerless manhood, Sam was here.

Jack swallowed. The room had grown stuffy, but it was a cozy kind of stuffy in the sense that even here in the roiling heat of fever he was safe. And it dawned on the boy, an off-hand remark of his mind that shouted with profound meaning after a moment. Sam Winchester was the first human being he'd ever laid conscious eyes on.

It was Sam that had stayed with him right after his birth, teaching him to control his powers. Sam who had dove on the Devil and went toe-to-toe with him, even after he'd been tortured by him forever, to protect Jack. And it was Sam who, when the Devil had won, gave Jack the archangel blade and told him to kill him.

Jack realized too that Sam had done all this knowing whose biological son Jack really was. And he'd never held that over him with any kind of keen prejudice, deserved in this sense though it had been.

Jack's hand reached out to Sam's knee. Out of instinct, he snapped awake nearly spilling the water he was clinging to for dear life.

"Hey, champ. You need one of these?" Sam rattled the box, eyes blinking with sleep.

"Sam?"Jack didn't need stupid tablets or water. He needed to talk to this human man that had become his father. He needed to understand the true reasons why he'd taken this role upon himself, after all the pain that Lucifer had caused him.

Who had taught him to be a father? Suddenly, Jack wondered in awe who the Papa Winchester must have been.

"Yeah, bud?" Sam set the water down and the tablets and leaned closer in the dark so he could see Jack's face better in the nightlight they'd been using to navigate his sick room after dark.

"Who was your Dad? Did he teach you to be like you are now?" Jack sat up a little. Sam looked shocked. Jack found now that he was asking questions, he couldn't stop.

"What was his name? Did he look like you or more like Dean? He must have loved you. Did you have a good relationship with him?" Jack tilted his head when he saw Sam getting upset again. He blinked and plastered on a fake smile like he always did in this situation.

"My Dad's name was John. I look more like him than Dean. Dean looks like our Mom and everybody says that. But, my Dad, he was a lot like Dean in his mannerisms and clothes and the way that he walked…"Sam was sad now. He leaned closer and laid his hand atop Jack's sweaty head.

"And he did love me. Very much. I know that he did. But, I didn't have a good relationship with him. That's one of my biggest regrets in life." Sam looked off into space.

"What?! How did you learn to be such a good Dad then if your Dad wasn't nice to you?" Jack's lip trembled. Sam stared at Jack for a moment, shocked. Then, he giggled.

"Oh, well, don't you know? John was my biological Dad maybe but he just wasn't around a lot when I was a kid. And when he was we'd fight all the livelong time. It got old even to us. Dean. He was the one who raised me. He's the reason why I became a man." Sam got a dreamy look in his eyes. And Jack's breath caught in his throat. Of course…

"Dean taught me to be a Dad to you because that's what he became to me when nobody else would. He became my Dad and my Mom and my brother all at the same time. When I was little, and I got sick, he'd give me tomato rice soup, even if he had to steal it out of a grocery dumpster with several dints in the can. Dean walked me to Kindergarten on my first day of school. He taught me how to tie my shoes. He taught me how to ride a bike and sign my name and drive a car and talk to girls and tie a necktie…."Sam bit his lip. He looked at Jack and smiled.

"Dean protected me from bullies like a big brother would. We still had fun just like we were only brothers, but sometimes when I needed blessing out for bad behavior, he'd do that too. He'd save me and help me like I was a baby when I just wasn't grown up enough to do it on my own." Sam shook his head, laughing in mild embarrassment.

" Once when I was about 10 and I got beat the crap out of by some bullies, Dean beat the bullies up and then he literally had to give me a bath. I was mortified then. I cry about it if I think about it too long now. He even brought a rubber ducky to make it funnier and less awkward." Sam and Jack laughed at the same time. Unbeknownst to them, Cas had crept to the door and was peering through the crack. Dean was busy changing out the sink and wasn't hearing any of this.

"When I was a grown-up, I think I was about 23-years-old, my Dad told Dean that he'd have to find a way to save me from the curse I had...Or...Or he'd have to kill me." Sam shook his head. Cas drew a sharp breath and turned away, leaning against the wall with his hand on his mouth. He'd never known that either. Sam and Dean Winchester, masters of the sharing arts, had so many stories about their lives they had yet to confide in the now dying-to-know Castiel.

"But Dean, he wouldn't do that, see. He drove himself nuts trying to save me. And..And eventually, I got killed in a fight with a bunch of other kids the demon that cursed me had made me duke it out with. And Dean….He...He sold his soul at a crossroads so that I could live. He'd lived for me and then he died for me." Sam smiled at Jack whose eyes were wide. Cas felt his heart jump in his chest.

So, that's how the Righteous Man ended up in Hell!

No one had ever made that part of Dean's descent into Perdition totally clear to the angel who'd rescued him. Back then, Dean was just another heavenly assignment.

"When my father gave up on me, my brother didn't. He saved me...So, see, Jack...That's how I learned how to take care of you. I had the best teacher I could have ever asked for…"Sam leaned closer to Jack, pushing his sweaty hair out of his eyes. Jack smiled, pleased with the answer he'd gotten.

But Cas was not. Now, after all of this that had happened, he wanted and needed to know where Dean was in his head. How had the boy that raised Sam been pushed so far as to sell his own soul for the boy? Who was Dean when Cas had not been there to watch over him? How did these brothers form the bond they had despite the breaks in the chains that held them to Earth?

Cas stormed over to the bathroom and leaned against the door. Dean was crawled up under a new sink attachment that had a vanity installed in the bottom of it. He was bolting in pipes.

"Cas, please tell me you're not staring at my butt because that would be freaky." Dean was chuckling around his words.

"Dean, I've got some questions for you and I won't go away until you answer them truthfully." Cas didn't mean to sound snappy. Dean slid out from under the sink to grab another wrench, doe eyes wide with wonder at the tone.

"Ah, okay? What do you want to know?"

"I want to know you, Dean. There's so much you haven't told me I feel like I barely understand your life." Cas tilted his head. Dean chuckled nervously.

"Not thinking of asking Sammy for my hand in marriage are you?" He teased, trying to deflect the subject.

"Dean, I'm serious. I've learned so many troubling things about you and your brother my head is spinning. Who was Jessica? How did she die? Why did your father tell you to kill your brother? Why did you have to raise Sam if your father was still alive?" Cas may be overstepping but the questions were coming out in a gush.

Dean looked like he'd been slapped. He frowned and then he nodded.

"Oh, wow, that's some heavy crap you're asking. Let me make you a deal. You help me finish fixing this freaking fogey contraption sink setup and I'll dispense with the girl talk." Dean nodded to his tools, smiling. Cas nodded.

"Which one?"

"The one with the green band-aid taped to the handle. I color coded them for Jack when I was teaching him which wrenches do what." Dean let out a soft grunt as he crawled under the sink again. Cas watched his friend's shoulders arch with his labor and realized how many heavy burdens had been saddled on that young human back for far too long.