Hi everyone!
Really pleased with this chapter. It was intense to write and I think it came out really well. Reviews spark joy :) Tell me if there's anything you really want to see in this story or another story!
They'd been at Bobby's nearing two weeks when John showed up.
By that point Sophie was doing better. Much better. Sleeping certainly helped. She was still tired, still dealing with some pain, but for the most part she was functional. She was on the couch reading lore books while Sam, Dean, and Bobby talked shop in the kitchen when a sharp knock echoed from the back door.
"I've got it," Sam said, getting to his feet.
John might not have been the last person Sam expected to see at the door, but he was certainly close.
"What are you doing here?" Sam asked.
"I need to apologize," John said, his voice rough.
"Dean! Bobby!" Sam called behind him.
"What's wrong?" Bobby asked as they rushed to the door.
"Dad?" Dean's voice cracked in the single syllable.
He started to back away. No. This was wrong. This was bad. He couldn't go through this. Not again.
"What's going on?" Dean whipped around when he heard Sophie's voice. She leaned against the door casing between the living room and the kitchen, still blissfully unaware of who was at the door.
"Nothing, nothing," Dean shooed her back into the living room and up the stairs.
"What are you doing?" Sophie asked, "It's the middle of the day."
"You look cold," Dean lied, "I want to get you something warmer."
Sophie had one of Bobby's sweaters on over a long, lightweight cotton dress.
"I'm really fine," she insisted, but the gentle pressure of Dean's hand at the small of her back didn't leave room for argument.
He sat her down on their bed and started rifling through drawers, avoiding her eyes.
"Let him in," Bobby finally growled, stalking away from the door and picking up his shotgun from the kitchen counter.
"You're not gonna kill me Bobby," John said, walking into the kitchen and raising his hands. He was clearly trying to be non confrontational. Sam followed and leaned against the counter at the far side of the room, looking everywhere except his father's face.
"Wanna bet?" The older man retorted, "Now sit your ass down."
Bobby kicked the leg of a kitchen chair.
John complied.
"Do you know what you did to that girl? Do you know what you did to your sons?" Bobby snarled, pacing.
"I overreacted," John said, "I get it. I'm here to try and make…"
"Make amends? What the hell do you think you're gonna be able to do that'll make this better? We still have to drug her to get her to sleep at night!"
John ducked his head and gazed at his lap.
"Look at me!" Bobby insisted, "You don't want to face this then you shouldn't have done it. You could've killed her! Think what that would have done to your boys!"
"I was an idiot," John said harshly, lifting his head again, "I get that part. I hurt her and I shouldn't have. I hurt my boys. And I'm sorry. But you know how I get with the holidays. And I'm so damn close to finding that…"
"Don't you make excuses," Bobby said, "Don't start with that. You're going to apologize to your sons. Individually. And without a word of this explanatory crap. And then, if and only if Dean says it's alright, you're gonna apologize to Sophie. And then you're not gonna show up here ever again. Got it?"
Back upstairs Sophie got up off the bed and went to the door.
"They're yelling down there," she said, turning to Dean, "Shouldn't we…you know…go see what's going on?"
"I'm sure it's just about a lost package or something," Dean tried to brush it off.
"You're lying," Sophie said, crouching beside him at their dresser and ducking down so she could make eye contact, "What happened to no bullshit?"
"Sophie you really don't want to…" Dean began, but she was out the door before he could stop her. Damn it. Why did this have to be the one day in that woman's life where she decided not to listen to him?
He caught up to her half way down the stairs.
"Sophie stop," Dean insisted. She did.
"What aren't you telling me?" Sophie asked.
"My dad showed up," Dean replied.
Sophie sank down on the step and put her head in her hands. Dean could see her breathing get faster and less even.
He sat down beside her.
"He's not gonna hurt you," Dean said as he rubbed her back gently, "I'm not gonna let him."
"No playing along this time?" Sophie asked, swallowing hard.
"No playing along," Dean replied, "You're safe. I promise."
"Hey Dean!" Sam's voice came from the other room. The shouting had stopped a few minutes before, replaced with harsh but quiet conversation.
"Be there in a minute," Dean called back.
"You promise I'm safe?" Sophie asked as he got to his feet.
"I promise," Dean assured her, "I'm gonna have Sam come sit with you while I'm gone okay?"
Sophie nodded.
"Don't hyperventilate before he gets here," Dean said, "Got it?"
Sophie raised one hand in a thumbs up.
Dean made his way downstairs and into the kitchen. His father was seated at the table with Bobby looming over him. Sam leaned against the counter.
"Go sit with Sophie," Dean instructed. Sam nodded and ducked out of the room.
"What do you want?" Dean asked, staring down his father.
"I need to apologize," John said, "I don't know what…"
Bobby kicked the leg of the chair and John yelped.
"I don't have an excuse. I don't have an explanation. I get irrational around the holidays and it hurt you," John said, "I'm sorry."
"She hasn't slept right since," Dean said, "And she had a seizure after. Worst one I've ever seen. Bit clean through her bottom lip. And if Sam hadn't've knocked you out you could've killed her. Those scars on her stomach aren't healed yet. You had her naked dad - you saw the cuts! You know a rock salt round at that distance could have opened them up again and sent her into shock. What the hell were you thinking?"
He'd never spoken to John like this before. It was…oddly liberating.
"I wasn't," John replied. Bobby kicked the leg of the chair again.
"Okay," John held up his hands defensively, "Maybe I was thinking. I was thinking that I didn't want you boys tied up with some new research assistant that couldn't pull her weight when we were so close to ending this thing. Didn't want you wasting time."
"And you knew she wasn't a good researcher how?" Dean asked.
"She's new," John replied.
"She has a freaking PhD Dad," Dean snapped.
"I'm sorry son," John said again.
"Thanks," Dean said, "I guess."
"With your permission, I'd like to apologize to her," John's voice was quieter now, "It's Sophie…right?"
Dean didn't reply for a long moment.
"I just want to give the girl some closure Dean," his father said.
"Great," Dean said, "Then I'm gonna go get her. And you're gonna apologize. And then you're never speaking to her again. Got it?"
John nodded.
Dean knelt in front of Sophie on the steps.
"He wants to apologize," Dean said.
"Okay," Sophie nodded.
"Okay?" Dean was more than a little surprised.
"I want to hear his justification," Sophie said simply.
But when she laid eyes on John that resolve wavered. She peeked out from behind Dean's larger form like John was some kind of wild animal, bent on turning her into a meal.
"I won't bite," he said.
"Forgive me if I'm not entirely convinced of that," Sophie's voice was steely.
"I wanted to apologize," John said.
"You could have just not beaten me," Sophie replied.
"I could have," John said, "But I am a very stupid and stubborn and single minded person. And I thought you were in the way of my sons doing the job I gave them."
"And that justified assaulting me?" Sophie's voice was flat.
"No but…"
"I don't want to hear it," Sophie snapped. She stepped out from behind Dean, anger replacing the fear.
"You could've killed me!" she shouted in his face, "I had the worst seizure of my life after that. And I couldn't go to the hospital, because guess what? You show up at an ER with lashing wounds? They're gonna want an explanation. And I wasn't about to let your sons take the blame for what you did."
"I just…" John began, but Sophie didn't let him finish. Instead she slapped him hard across the face. Everybody froze.
"I deserved that," John said under his breath, wincing, "And I was not expecting you to be that strong."
"Shut your mouth!" She snapped, "I understand how much it hurts to have someone you love taken away from you. I get the whole overwhelmed by grief thing. A wendigo killed my fiancé. But you know what? You move on. It's been twenty-three years John. In what world does even the most traumatic death two decades ago give you the right to disrupt other people's lives with your inability to cope?"
"I'm sorry," John said. He was looking anywhere but at her.
"You ought to be," Sophie replied, tucking herself back into Dean's side.
"What I did was inexcusable," John continued, "I'm glad Dean found you. You're clearly good for him. And I'm deeply sorry that I got in the way of what you three have going right now. I've been hearing just how fast and neat your hunts are. Everyone tells me you're one hell of a researcher."
"Everyone tells you correctly," Sophie grumbled. Dean was worried about her. He was impressed like crazy by how she'd handled that. But she kept rubbing her eyes, shaking her head like she was trying to clear it. He wondered if a seizure aura was starting.
"Now out!" Bobby snapped, "You've said your piece. Leave. Us. Alone."
And that's when Sophie collapsed. Dean already had an arm around her and it wasn't difficult to get her safely on the ground before she started seizing. What was difficult was managing his father and Bobby's reactions.
Bobby dropped his gun on the counter and immediately knelt to try and hold her still.
"Stop it," Dean snapped, "Don't touch her."
"But I thought…" Bobby began.
"Nope," Dean shook his head, "Don't touch her. She'll ride it out. I'll help her when she's done."
John got to his feet and moved to unbuckle his belt. Dean had him by the lapels in an instant.
"Don't you get near her," he growled.
"She'll bite her tongue," John insisted, "Belt in the mouth, right?"
Dean shook his head.
"I can assure you," he said through gritted teeth, "You just have to let her be. And I would strongly advise you to keep that thing buckled and through your belt loops around me from now on."
He shoved the older man back and knelt next to Sophie. Her left leg had stilled now. And Dean knew that soon the rest of her limbs would follow.
He wiped blood from her mouth once she finally lay limp on the kitchen floor. Bobby and John argued behind him. Dean wasn't even sure about what.
"Would you two shut it!" He snapped as Sophie's eyes fluttered open.
It seemed neither of them heard.
And that argument in the background? Made a heck of a difference in how Sophie recovered.
Dean was used to disorientation. Used to clingy. Used to her just laying still and gazing at him. But this time was different. She was unsettled. She wouldn't stay still. She was still weak and uncoordinated and he worried she'd hurt herself. She wasn't reacting to - or maybe just couldn't hear - his gentle reassurances. She was pushing him away and trying to sit up when he lost his grip on her sweater and she hit the ground, hard. A line of blood welled up above her eyebrow.
"Would you two stop it!" Dean shouted, "Look what you did!"
Bobby and John both immediately bent down, scrambling to help. Dean waved them off.
"I said don't touch her," he snapped, "My word."
Sophie's eyelids fluttered open again. And it was clear, so incredibly clear, that she was terrified.
Dean wiped the blood off her forehead with his shirtsleeve.
"You're okay," he murmured, pulling her into his lap, "I've got you. Come here now. It's all okay."
"Is she gonna be alright?" John asked.
"Yeah," Dean said, his voice staying quiet and calm, "No thanks to you two."
Sophie was shaking in his arms, pressing her face hard into his chest and gripping onto his shirt with uncoordinated fingers. He felt, rather than saw, her start to sob.
"Is there anything I can do?" Bobby asked.
"Get him to leave," Dean instructed, nodding in John's direction.
"I'm sorry son," John repeated.
"I heard you the first time," Dean replied.