CHAPTER 1
Dean was perusing the newspaper for any unusual sightings while being holed up in another dingy motel.
But in a moment of rarity, may be for the first time in months nothing seemed out of ordinary. From a hunter's point of view, at least. Otherwise, the newspaper was, as usual, filled with some freakishly weird stuff here and there.
"Man Accused of Killing Lawyer Receives a New Attorney," he read aloud and snorted to himself. Before he could further read about the gentleman and his seemingly hatred towards the lawyer kind, there came a knock at his door.
In a swift motion, he was up and on his feet, moving toward the door while pulling his gun out from where it was safely tucked in the waistband of his jeans. On his way, he caught Brad's eye and motioned to him; the kid jumped from the bed from where he was lying lazily watching tv, and ran to hide in the bathroom, shutting the door behind himself.
Dean hadn't told anyone where he was staying. Considering Sam was still busy being the college boy at Stanford and had stopped answering his calls altogether sometime last year. While his dad was as far as he knew out hunting in the world and had no interest in knowing about his whereabouts. Both those thoughts hurt. But he wasn't alone now. He had his mini him. So he was coping. Mostly.
Dean pinched his lips in the absence of a peephole in the door. He secured his grip on his pistol and cracked the door open an inch. And then, he stopped in his tracks at the sight of his father standing in front of him, grinning at him slightly.
"Hello, son." John Winchester greeted his son and pulled him in a tight hug. It's been almost a year since he saw his eldest, and he only had himself to blame for it.
"It's good to see you."
Dean wished he could say the same. It wasn't like he didn't miss his dad or anything. It's just that he would have appreciated a little warning, was all. He definitely had to agree based on some embarrassing past experiences ( it wasn't funny being caught by your dad in his car with your pants around your ankles with the coach's daughter) that his dad's timing sucked.
"You too." Dean muttered, distracted as his mind raced to Bradley and how the hell he was gonna tell his father that he was now a grandfather. It wasn't going to be a fun conversation. Of that, he was sure. He was so afraid of the impending conversation that they would have to have. He couldn't even conjure any anger toward his old man for bailing out on him all those months ago. And that was saying something, if one would consider the amount of nights he had spent in a drunken haze cussing at his dad and Sammy for leaving him all alone.
"I took out a nest of vampires near the area. And just thought, I would pop by." John explained as he pushed past Dean and entered the room.
Dean followed his father silently and meekly shut the door behind himself. Time for the drumrolls. He opened his mouth, but what came out instead was a farting noise followed by the sound of the flushing toilet from the bathroom on the other side of the room.
John swung his eyes at him, Dean swung his eyes at the bathroom before directing them at his dad. He would need to teach Brad about the rules of hiding in a bathroom. The first being - you don't do anything inside that could alert your presence to the outdiders.
"You have company?" John asked with fond exasperation. "Whose daughter is it? It better not be the daughter of a pastor. And surely, not the sheriff's? Because I promise, Dean, I will not come and bail your ass out of the prison this time." He warned as he looked at his son. But contrary to normal, instead of his boy's gloating expression whenever he managed to get his hands on a girl who was next to impossible to score ( Dean's words, not his), he was now looking quite green.
John's senses immediately went on alert as he regarded his son with his best, 'You better start explaining yourself,' face.
Just then, the door to the bathroom opened only a tiny inch before a small voice called out, "Daddy?"
And that folks, was how John Winchester met his grandson, Bradley James Winchester, for the first time.
A/N: John Winchester, the hunter who saw the world in black and white, had a grandson born of magic. Now, what would he do?