Disclaimer 1: I do not own Supernatural and am not making money by writing this story.

Disclaimer 2: The title is from the song, Chasing Cars and I am not making money by using it as the title of my fanfic.

Chapter three

Fall 2005

After Mary's death, Dean noticed that his father had changed a lot. John was more distant and almost never smiled. Dean was worried that his father's sadness had something to do with him.

He had noticed that whenever Sam was near, John smiled a lot more often than he did around Dean. Naturally, as a curious child, Dean wanted to know why his father tried to avoid him whenever it was possible. So one day when John was watching T.V. and Sam was sleeping in his room, Dean decided to confront his dad.

"Daddy, can I ask you something?" Dean said hesitantly.

"What?" John asked in an irritated voice as he placed the bottle of liquor he had been drinking from on the coffee table.

"You don't smile anymore, daddy." Dean pointed out.

"Nonsense, I smile all the time," John scrunched up his nose and bared his teeth. "See I'm smiling now." That wasn't a real smile; actually, Dean wasn't even sure what that was. Dean had seen his father happy when Mary was alive and knew what a real smile on his dad's face looked like. He decided to try a different approach.

"Ever since mommy died-" Suddenly, John got up from the couch, knocking over the bottle, which in turn shattered into a million different pieces.

Dean had an inkling that his heart would look like that after this confrontation.

"Don't you ever mention her." John had balled his hands into fists and his eyes held a wrath that Dean had never seen before.

"I-" Dean didn't have time to say anything because his father interrupted him again and yelled, "It's your fault! Your godammn fault."

"I'm sor-"

"You just had to have your stupid macaroni and cheese, didn't you? Couldn't deal with what she made? Well guess what, now she's dead and no one's here to make you your favorite food." John kept shouting.

"I'm sorry, daddy." Dean said quietly and tried to keep the tears at bay. Stop crying, Dean. Big boys don't cry.

"I can't look at you right now. You even look like her." John kept yelling and suddenly, Sam started to cry. John left to check on Sam, leaving Dean alone in the room.

"I'm so sorry." He whispered, not sure to whom he was speaking.

Then he decided to do what he hadn't done in two years: run away to the Miltons. Seeing Castiel would help him. He knew it would. He was down the street before John even had the chance to notice he was gone.

When he rung the doorbell, he expected Castiel or Anna to answer. However, as the door opened, he was met with Naomi's equally shocked face.

"Dean, does your father know you're here?" Naomi asked crossing her arms.

Dean shook his head, looking down at the ground.

"I'll go call him." Naomi was about to leave to get the phone when Dean tugged on her shirtsleeve.

"Yes?" She turned back and quirked an eyebrow. Dean didn't know much about make-up but he had know Mrs. Milton long enough to notice that her face seemed to be painted in more colors than it usual was. And when he leaned closer, he thought that he could see the outlines of a bruise around her right eye but he decided to put it off. He had more important matters to discuss.

"Please don't call my dad." Dean said desperately.

"I-" Naomi looked at Dean's big hopeful eyes and said, "Oh alright." She let him in and he ran up the stairs to Castiel's room.

He started rapidly knocking on the door when Castiel yelled, "I told you to stop that, Anna. I'm going to tell mom."

"I'm not Anna." Dean yelled back. Within seconds, the door opened and Castiel let Dean come into his room.

Castiel sat on the bed and Dean sat next to him. Castiel tilted his head to the side when he noticed Dean's frown and said, "What's wrong?"

Dean started to cry so Castiel decided to just wrap his arms around Dean and let him cry. When he was done crying, Dean began explaining.

"It's not your fault." Castiel said once Dean finished relaying what had happened.

"But my dad, he said-" Dean's lips trembled as he spoke.

"Dean." For a six-year old, Castiel sure did have a strong gaze. Dean would've been a bit scared had he not known him all his life.

Dean looked up at Castiel questioningly. "Your father is just upset. Give him time."

"It's been two years already!" Dean whisper-yelled.

"Dean, your dad loved your mom a lot. How would you like it if someone you wanted to be with forever suddenly died?" Castiel said.

Dean looked at Castiel and suddenly realized what his dad must've been going through. "I wouldn't want to live knowing that they wouldn't."

"Your dad is probably feeling it worse. He did know your mom from a very young age." Castiel pointed out.

Dean had known Castiel from a young age too and he couldn't imagine what it would be like to lose him. He hoped that day would never come.

"I just hope he gets better." He looked at Castiel and added. "I mean, Sam is going to need his dad around too."

"I know." Castiel murmured softly.

After a few minutes of silence, Dean said, "So where's your dad?"

"I don't know. He hasn't been home in a few days. He had a fight with mom and then left." Castiel rushed his words.

"Does your mom's face have anything to do with it?"

"What about my mom's face?" Castiel said defensively. After many years of knowing Castiel, Dean knew that he should've just stopped right there. But he couldn't and he wouldn't; he wanted answers.

"Where'd she get that bruise?" Dean asked curiously.

"I don't know." Castiel blurted out rather quickly and then said, "Why don't you ask her, if you're so curious."

"You're my friend, not her." Dean argued back.

"It's nothing." Castiel insisted.

"Cas-" Dean started off.

"I don't want to talk about it." He hunched his shoulders and refused to look Dean in the eye.

"Fine." Dean sat and crossed his arms.

"Fine." Castiel repeated.

They sat on opposite sides of the bed, frowning. Suddenly, Castiel giggled and Dean followed shortly. Soon, they couldn't stop laughing. They were rolling on the bed with laughter, holding their stomachs.

After a few minutes, Castiel calmed down and wiped at the tears that had formed from the laughter. "I'm sorry, Dean. I just can't tell you now."

"It's alright, Cas. You don't have to tell me now. You can tell me when you're ready." Dean moved closer to his friend and took him into his arms.

That was the way Naomi found them: in each other's arms. Castiel wasn't embarrassed. He knew that he would always want Dean around. Dean, however, scrambled to the other side of the bed as soon as he had noticed Naomi.

"Your father called and I told him that you were here." Naomi said simply.

"Why?" Dean cried.

"Your father was very worried." She exclaimed.

"So you told him I was here." Dean accused her.

"Of course I told him. I wasn't going to put up with your shenanigans."

"When's he coming?" Dean asked gloomily.

"In a few minutes. I suggest you go downstairs and get ready." And with that, Naomi left the room.

"Your mom's a bit scary when she's mad." Dean said.

"A bit?" Cas asked tilting his head. Dean laughed.

They went downstairs and Dean put on his coat. For a few minutes, they sat on the couch not saying anything. When the doorbell rung, Dean tensed up. Castiel put a hand on his shoulder and reassuringly said, "Don't worry."

Naomi opened the door and John stepped inside, holding Sam. Seeing Sammy made Dean relax a bit and smile.

"Lost anything of yours?" Naomi said smiling a bit.

"Oh thank god." John said as he saw Dean sitting on the couch. He thanked Naomi and took Dean into his other arm. When John was done, he put Dean down and let him say good-bye to Castiel. Then they went home.

Afterwards, when Sam was put away to sleep and Dean and John were sitting at the kitchen table silently. Dean wouldn't let himself look up at his dad.

"You promised you wouldn't do that ever again." John said.

"I'm sorry." Dean was tired of apologizing. It felt like that was all he did.

John rubbed his hands over his face and in that moment, Dean didn't see his father; he saw a man who was shaped by the grief and loss which had forced him to age quickly.

John cleared his throat and said, "No, you don't have anything to be sorry for."

"Huh?" Dean was surprised; he thought for sure that he was going to be grounded for the rest of his life.

"I," John sighed. "Dean, I'm sorry about what I said. It was no one's fault that she died-"

"But you said-"

"Forget what I said, dammit!" John hit the table and Dean jumped back a bit.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." John kept mumbling. "I just miss her so much." John said and put his head into his hands.

Dean climbed out of his sit and went to stand next to his dad. Dean put his arms around his dad and hugged him as tightly as he could. It was funny how sometimes kids could handle emotions better than adults.

"I've failed as father, haven't I?" John asked when they separated.

Dean shook his head and said, "No, daddy, you could never fail me. And you've been a great dad to Sam."

"Dean, let's be honest. I haven't been a great dad in a while." John sighed and then added, "But that ends today. What do you say, you, me and Sammy go to the park tomorrow?"

Dean's eyes brightened and he said, "Okay, daddy."

Before he went to sleep that night, Dean thought over the fact that he had broken the promise he made to his mother a few years ago. That was when he realized that promises couldn't always be kept.

The next day, they ate breakfast and then went to the park. They spent the whole day there. Dean noticed that his father was trying to smile a lot more often and actually participate.

From there on, John started paying equal attention both of his sons. He tried to be more attentive, caring, and helpful and Dean was really happy about it. He was happy that he finally had his dad back.

A/N: Please review.

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