Hello, wonderful readers! I'm back again :) I know a few of you have asked if I was going to continue the previous chapter with them going to Stanford. I originally hadn't planned to do that, but a wonderful reader has given me some ideas, so hopefully I can get that chapter up sometime!

This current chapter was one I started back in December and finally got around to finishing. It deals with one of the many sides of John Winchester. I think there're as many sides to him as there are fanfiction writers out there, so this is just one of multiple sides I've explored in previous chapters and ones to come. I think it is fun and challenging to also explore Dean's character and speculate about why he is the way he is. This is just a random idea that popped into my head. It's more Dean-centric than Kate, so I'll have to make up for that in the next chapters hehe.

Eternal thanks to ispiltthemilk for her help with this chapter! I am forever grateful for her wonderful advice and friendship :)

Finally, I don't know what triggers some people, but I want you guys to know that it could be possible in the latter part of this chapter due to harsh language and what could be considered verbal abuse.

Read, Review, but most importantly, ENJOY!

Dean-12
Sam-8
Kate-4

It wasn't just any other normal, dreary, rainy, evening for the Winchester kids. The two days of rain over the weekend had made everyone stir crazy, locked up inside a run down motel room with very few ways to entertain themselves without getting on each other's nerves. But John was finally going to come home late that night and Dean was determined to make sure everything was in perfect condition and that his siblings, himself included, were ready for bed when he got home. Because when John came back from a hunt, the last thing he ever wanted to do was deal with his kids—Dean had figured that out long ago, even if the other two haven't quite understood it yet.

Dean glanced around the hotel suite to make sure the majority of things were put away and organized. They didn't exactly have many things to make a huge mess, but it was just step one on his long list of getting everything perfect. Next step was having ice cubes ready, just in case John wanted to pour himself an ice-cold beverage when he got back. Better safe than sorry.

"Guys, I'm going down the hall to get some ice. Don't do anything stupid while I'm gone, 'kay?" Dean announced as he stood in the doorway, impatiently waiting for each one to acknowledge what he said. Satisfied that they both had shaken their heads in acceptance, he closed the door and made his way down the hall.

Already bored at her spot on the bed, Katie got down walked over to the couch, throwing one leg onto it and skillfully pulling herself the rest of the way up before settling in beside Sam. "Whatcha watching?" she asked, pushing her still damp hair out of her face. Dean had insisted they take a bath early today to prepare for their father's pending arrival, and Dean wanted everything to be done before he got there, making things as easy as he could for his father.

"Nothing," Sam replied flatly as he scooted a few inches away from her, annoyed that she decided now was a good time to bother him.

"Nuh-uh," Kate countered. "You're watching something." She pointed to the TV that currently had some restaurant commercial flashing across the screen.

Sam sighed, pushing his equally damp hair back. "It's my show," he emphasized. He wasn't about to share it with her of all people. She'd never understand anything and just ruin it all for him. It was the one time a day that he looked forward to.

"Is it the doggie?" she asked, her green eyes wide as she looked at him.

"It's not a doggie. His name is Wishbone," Sam explained, irritation clear in his voice. The show with the beagle dog that went on crazy book adventures was Dean's greatest discovery since the library because now it was the only leverage he had over Sam to behave when they were cooped up in a room with a working television. Without waiting for another comment from her, Sam made his way over to his backpack and pulled out his Spiderman notebook and pencil. He had to make sure he was ready when the show started so he could add the book title to his ever-growing list of "classic books to read when I'm a little bigger."

Katie instantly noticed the notebook in his hand as he settled back into his spot on the couch. Jealousy filled her because she didn't have one. Her dad had said she'd get one when she started school, but that didn't ease her envy of her brothers having their own. She was forced to make them share with her. "Sammy, I wanna color too," she announced reaching for his notebook.

"NO!" he yelled back, ripping it from her grasp. Turning his back to her, he ruffled through the pages to find the right one.

Dean could already hear Sam's frustrated yell from the hall and his shoulders fell. It couldn't have been more than two minute and these two were already finding something to argue about. They didn't actually sit around fighting. It was more like Katie was the always-curious child she was and just knew how to push Sam's buttons as he got easily frustrated. Sighing, Dean opened the door, but neither of them had even noticed.

"But you gots to share," Katie argued, trying unsuccessfully to reach around him and grab the notebook.

"Not with you," Sam retorted. Swatting her arm out of the way, he turned his head around and stuck his tongue out at her for good measure.

Katie grunted and crossed her arms in defeat, looking around for her older brother. Suddenly spotting him in the door, she complained, "De, Sammy's being mean again!"

Wanting to avoid a full on meltdown between these two, he quickly closed the door and quickly went to put the ice in the freeze, never going back to put the door lock in place. Making his way over to his own backpack, he pulled out a notebook and a few crayons in a zip-lock bag that he'd managed to steal—a few crayons from one store, a few from another, nobody ever seemed to notice.

"Here, why don't you color with these," he suggested, laying them down on the floor in front of the couch. When Katie seemed reluctant to move, he added, pointing to the notebook cover, "Batman's way cooler anyway."

Katie finally seemed convinced and sat on the floor. Her eyes lit up at seeing the ever-familiar picture of Batman. "Yeah! Batman is super cool!" she threw back at Sam before opening it up to find a clean page to color on.

"No way. Spiderman rules!" Sam argued, not liking his superhero to come in second.

"Everyone knows that's a lie," Dean retorted.

Pshew Pshew, Sam sounded as he held out his arms in front of him, pretending to shoot webs in their direction. "Spiderman saves people!"

"Batman does too, moron. And he doesn't have any stupid magical powers to do it. He trained himself to become awesome!" Dean stood a little taller, filled with pride. He would be just like Batman one day, too. He worked long and hard training with his dad to get everything just right, and one day he would be able to save as many people as both John and Batman did.

"Yeah…well, well…," Sam tried to counter, but the Wishbone theme song interrupted his thoughts. He instantly forgot about their argument and turned around to focus solely on the TV.

A small chuckle escaped Dean's lips at the sight of his brother. His notebook rested on his lap, pencil at the ready in his hand, eagerly waiting to jot down the book title. He shoulders hunched forward and he was officially dead to the entire world around him. That kid zombied out like no other when his show came on.

Seeing both of them truly entranced in their respective activities, he knew it was now or never. "Sam, Katie, listen up. I'm going to take a shower, so you both just stay here watching TV and coloring, okay?" He looked from one to the other and neither of them turned to look at him. "Guys," he scolded.

"'M'kay, Dean," Katie replied without looking at him as she continued to fervently color away.

"Fine, now ssshhh," Sam hushed, motioning for Dean to go away with his hand.

Dean looked at them one last time, satisfied that they both seemed to be occupied enough for the moment. He was slightly hesitant to shower as it something he normally did once they were already asleep, but he couldn't today. If they weren't all ready for bed when John got home, he would get mad, and it would be Dean's fault. Everything had to be perfect. He threw them one last look, hoping they'd manage to not kill each other while they were "unsupervised". He quickly grabbed his things and scurried off to the bathroom for a quick shower.

It didn't take long for Katie to become bored with coloring. She'd already managed to draw a few rainbows and one too many circles on multiple pages. She sighed, taking in everything around her as she searched for a new form of entertainment since the TV was off limits, thanks to her brother.

Looking up, she searched the room for something to do. Eagerly bouncing over to the window, she saw that the rain had stopped and the dark clouds had started to separate, revealing a sun on the verge of setting off in the distance. The sun was fighting through the last of the clouds, pushing its way back into this world, even if only for a moment. Katie's eyes widened with excitement as a new realm of possibilities opened up. There were puddles everywhere, just calling out her name to come and jump in them. She quickly glanced over her shoulder, her soft unruly curls swaying. The bathroom door was slightly cracked open due to an over paranoid Dean not wanting to close it fully. The water was still running, so she knew he wouldn't be out anytime soon. She peered at Sam, who was still completely engrossed in his show, oblivious to the outside world.

Opting to forgo shoes because that would take time, she headed for the door, easily hidden from her brother's sight as a half-sized wall formed a barrier at the entrance. Standing on her tippy toes, she managed to reach the handle and much to her relief and surprise, it opened! She pulled it back only slightly, not needing much space for her small body to slip outside. Too excited for her adventure, she didn't bother closing it behind her.

Gleefully squealing, she ran over to the huge puddle that had formed alongside the sidewalk in the grass. Without a second thought, she leaped into it as the water splashed everywhere, including on her pajamas. The stacks of watery mud only inches away drew her in like a fly to honey. She couldn't resist the urge to mash it in her hands. Crouching down next to it, she picked up two fistfuls and giggled with delight as she squished it out between her fingers, mud dripping down her pant leg and onto the ground.

This was better than Christmas Day for her. She could venture into any puddle she wanted and make as many sloppy mud pies as her heart desired. She skipped around in the grass, soaking in the final moments of sunlight. She laughed as the water splashed in all directions, increasing with every powerful jump.

Dean shut off the scolding hot water, finally convincing himself he had to get out and face the cold air that awaited him on the other side of the curtain. That was the real mental struggle. It was like torture. After getting out, he quickly wrapped the towel around him, stepping closer to the bathroom door and leaning toward the crack to make sure nobody was biting the other's head off. Satisfied that only Sam's show could be heard, he quickly changed into an old t-shirt and a pair of gym shorts.

Coming out of the bathroom, he instantly spotted the back of Sam's shaggy head on the couch. He assumed Katie was still on the floor, but he felt this unexplainable need to go make sure everything was okay. So he tossed his towel on the bed and took a few quick strides over to the couch, praying he was about to find both siblings there.

Only spotting his brother, panic began to consume his body as his breath was caught in his throat. "Where's Katie?!" he demanded, worry lacing every syllable. When Sam didn't respond in the .25 of a second time frame allotted, Dean grabbed on to his shirtsleeve, drawing him out of his trance. Sam stared at him like he'd just noticed his presence for the first time. "Sam, where is she?!" He motioned to the abandoned crayons and notebook on the floor. His voice was filled with desperation for Sam to just say she was hiding under the bed or behind a curtain or….

Sam glanced around him, seemingly as lost as Dean was. "I don't know," he said, shrugging his shoulders, clearly not interested and slightly annoyed that Dean was trying to distract him.

He released his clasp on Sam's shirt and his eyes quickly danced around the room, searching for her. He scoured every inch of the room and when his eyes fell on the partially opened door, his heart stopped beating.

Not wasting another second, he sprinted toward the door, throwing it open and stepping outside barefoot. Scanning his surroundings at lightening speed, he let out the breath he had been holding. There sat Katie, in the middle of the small patch of grass beside the parking lot, shoveling handfuls of mud onto a heaping pile in front of her.

The relief that he'd found her in perfect condition soon disappeared and he was hit with the sudden realization that he had to get her inside and cleaned up fast because their dad would be home any second now.

"Katelyn!" he reprimanded. Filled with a new wave of fear of his father's impending arrival, he rushed over to her, his feet getting wet since it was impossible to avoid the puddles. At hearing her full name, her head shot up with a deer stuck in the headlights look when she spotted her brother. "Let's go inside now," he commanded, reaching down for her to grab his hand.

"But, De, I'm almost done," she pouted, completely ignoring the seriousness in his tone.

"Now," he said, his voice as threatening as he could make it for his young age. When she showed no sign of budging, Dean reached down and placed his arms under hers, pulling her up on her feet. He forcefully clasped her hand in his and started dragging her back to the room as the water works started.

"But Deeeeean, I wanna play more," she cried.

He was about to open his mouth and scold her for doing such a careless thing, but the roaring sound of the Impala screeching into the parking lot stopped him dead in his tracks. "Shit," he muttered under his breath as he quickened his pace toward the door.

But it was too late. Dean knew John had spotted them already, certainly he'd seen his sister's muddy feet and tear stained face. John haphazardly parked the car in between two spaces in front of them, making Dean believe he'd made a pit stop at the nearest bar before coming home.

John and Dean's eyes locked for a moment, causing him to freeze along the sidewalk outside their room. His hot, steamy shower had been in vain as he felt prickles of ice cold sweat drip down his back. There was no escaping what was coming now. No closing his eyes and wishing it would all disappear like he'd prayed to happen time after time. Nope, it would be the same song, different verse. The only thing that ever changed was the hotel.

"What in the hell is going on, Dean?!" John demanded, closing the distance between them. Even in his current state, he didn't miss how both of his kids were in their pajamas and barefoot, making him realize how ever Katie had gotten outside in the mud wasn't because she had permission. Hearing her father's deathly low growl was enough to scare Kate into stifling back her tears.

Compelled by some innate force, Dean couldn't lie. Sure, he could lie to any adult or public service employee like nobody's business—his dad had taught him that. But when it came to his father himself, it was an underdeveloped skill. Obviously he had wanted to lie to his dad on multiple occasions and had even practiced more than once what he could say to him when he was in this state, but once he was in John's presence, there was no thinking. No lying. No controlling his own thoughts. His lack of age and experience hadn't allowed him to fight it yet. The truth slipped off his tongue like lava pouring out of a volcano, "Dad, I'm sorry. I was just showering and when I came out, she—"

"You mean you left your brother and sister alone?!" he interjected, his voice laced with rage.

"No, I mean, yes, but…," Dean fumbled over his words as his dad's dark eyes narrowed.

"You irresponsible, little…," John trailed off as he stumbled past both of them, entering the room. "Samuel!" he called out, needing to see what kind of state his other son was in, no longer trusting that Dean had managed to keep him safe.

Seemingly oblivious by what was going on outside, Sam's mop of brown hair popped up from his spot on the couch when he heard his father's voice yell his name clear as a bell. "Yeah, Dad?"

John just shook his head, motioning for him to turn around and go back to what he was doing. Sam shrugged his shoulder and did as his dad commanded, returning his full attention to the end of his show. John didn't say anything more and then turned back to his other two kids standing in the doorway. He took a step to the side and paused for a moment, trying to regain his balance. Reaching down, he picked up Dean's discarded towel off the bed and staggered back over to them.

Before he could say anything, Dean blurted out, hoping to calm the storm before it got any worse, "Dad, it's okay. I'm going to get her cleaned up and they'll go right to bed. I'm sorry I didn't think—"

"That's right, Dean. You didn't think," he countered, shoving the towel against his chest. Katie instinctively took a step closer to Dean's side, grabbing onto the hem of his shirt with her mud-covered hand, desperately seeking some kind of protection. "These two are your responsibility, Dean Michael. And your sister was wandering around outside. If something were to happen to them, just whose fault do you think it would be?" he bit.

Dean ripped the towel from his father's grasp letting it dangle down at his side. "But, Dad, nothing happened to them. She just got muddy and—"

"Did you give her permission to go outside?" he shot back, slurring some of his words.

"No, but…"

"Then it's your fault for leaving the door unlocked," he snapped, automatically piecing together the entire story as if it were a case of his. "You were careless and…" John's voice had gotten loud enough to scare Katie even more and a few hiccupping cries escaped her lips as she gripped Dean's shirt tighter. "And now look! Do you think I want to come home to this after a weekend away hunting?!" he yelled, extending his hand toward her.

"Dad!" Dean instantly shrieked, but his father hadn't even noticed what he'd said, or maybe he just didn't care. Sam didn't make any inclination that he'd heard what was just said and he knew Katie was too scared to fully understand what was even going on, but still, his father was being reckless.

John paused as his chest rose and fell heavily with each breath. He hesitated for a moment, before bellowing, "Get her cleaned up now."

Dean nodded and quickly ripped Katie's grasp from his shirt, wrapped the towel around her, and picked her up, scrambling for the bathroom in a hurry and closing the door behind him. He turned on the bath water before kneeling down in front of her, ready to help remove her dirty clothes.

"De, I'm sorry Daddy's mad at you," she hiccupped, trying to bite back more tears.

"It's fine," Dean said flatly, all compassion drained from his tone. His head was swirling, repeating over and over what had just happened and silently dreading what was to come. What waited for him on the other side of that door.

"I just wanted to finish it," she said quietly as he lifted off her shirt.

"Finish what?"

"Your pie." Dean's eyebrow furrow in confusion. "I wanted to make you the biggerest mud pie ever!" she announced, almost triumphantly at the mere idea of making something she thought he'd love.

And for a brief second, Dean couldn't help but smile, momentarily forgetting about everything. It wasn't until he turned off the water and heard his father slam the fridge shut, followed by the ever-familiar sound of a beer bottle opening, that his veins filled with fear again.

Dean walked out of the bathroom, relieved to see that Sam had already put himself to bed, or John had forced him there, he didn't know. He avoided eye contact, but didn't miss his father sipping on his drink at the kitchen table on the far side of the room. He ushered Katie over to the bed where Sam was already sound asleep. He lifted her up, tucking her in under the covers before whispering something in her ear. She smiled happily back at him before rolling over and snuggling up with the blankets.

Dean ran his fingers through her damp hair one last time, putting off the inevitable for just a second longer. He took a deep breath as his shoulders fell in defeat, realizing it was time to face his dad, knowing he hadn't heard the end of it yet. He knew he'd messed up, that had already been made quite clear, but John always had to get the last word. Dean reluctantly turned around, dragging his feet as he made his way over to the small kitchen. He stood across the table from his dad, who had just taken another gulp of his beer, slamming it down heavily on the table in front of him.

There was a beat of silence as neither of them said anything. Dean stared at the scratches on the wooden table as John's glare lit him on fire.

"You left that door unlocked," he stated. "You let her get outside. Out in the open where anything could have happened to her." He paused, waiting for some kind of reaction. If there had been somewhere, anywhere, to run to, Dean would have taken off sprinting in that direction right then. But his dad's angry and relentless words were like an anchor, forcing him to stand there, unable to move. "Look at me when I'm talking to you, boy!" he berated.

Dean had to fight the urge to turn around and make sure his siblings weren't sitting up in bed, scared by the harshness in their father's voice again. He slowly and unwillingly lifted his eyes to meet his father's.

"You put her in danger! Those two are your responsibility, young man." He motioned toward the bed with his beer bottle. "And anything that happens to them will be your fault. It will always be your fault. Because the second you stop thinking, something will happen to them. And it will always fall back on you. You got one job, and today you failed miserably." He sat quietly, taking another swig of his beer. Then, as if he hadn't made his point clearly, he slurred, "It's always gonna be your fault, Dean."

Dean stared at him, holding back the tears that pushed against the brims of his eyes. He swallowed hard, trying to force down the lump that had formed in his throat. It wasn't the first time he'd heard his dad's berating speech about his responsibility and failures. He heard it every time something happened, no matter how big or small it was. And every time he'd wanted to argue back, to scream at his dad and tell him he was doing the best he could…that he was doing the impossible for a kid his age…He wanted to cry, to show his dad the real emotion he fought so hard to hide from him. But none of that would ever happen. Dean would do the same thing he did the last time this happened and the time before that. He would stand there, soaking up every word his father said like a sponge, unable to block it out, letting it slowly seep in and become part of his own thoughts.

The one person Dean loved told him over and over again that no matter what happened to his siblings, it would always be his fault. And one day, he eventually started to believe it himself. Because after he heard the same message so many times, it became permanently engraved in his mind, like a natural reflex…and then he started to think it had been his own idea all along.