Chapter 3

Dean pulled into the first bar he saw when he got into town. He parked and walked toward the entrance, lost in his thoughts. He was suddenly knocked to the side by a drunk patron leaving the bar, and he sneered at him as he stumbled into the parking lot. Dean hoped he wasn't going to try to drive.

"Sorry about my buddy," another man apologized as he scooted by Dean.

He watched as the second guy grabbed the first and steered the drunk toward a truck parked on one side of the lot. Good thing he wouldn't be on the road in his condition. Dean continued into the bar, pausing to let his eyes adjust and to survey the room.

Always the hunter, Dean checked the patrons scattered throughout the large room before making his way to the bar and sitting at the end, so his back was to the wall. That way, no one could sneak up on him, and he would have a good view of the room.

"Good evening, sir. What's your pleasure?" the bartender asked as he wiped a spot in front of Dean before placing a napkin there. "Hello Dean, it's been a while," he said upon recognizing him.

"Just got back into town, Marv. Give me a beer and a shot of Jack," Dean replied, digging into his pocket for money. He laid it on the bar and waited for his drinks.

The bartender pulled a long neck from a cooler and opened it before placing it on the napkin. He turned and poured a shot of Jack Daniels, setting it beside the beer.

"Let me know if you need anything else," Marv said. After making the change, the bartender moved back down the long wooden bar to serve other customers.

Dean picked up the whiskey and swirled the amber liquid around as he gazed into the glass before throwing it back and swallowing it in two big gulps. He grimaced as the whiskey burned all the way down to his stomach and settled. He could feel the warmth flow through his body and picked up the cold beer bottle to sip on. The tart, coldness of the beer soothed his throat.

He rubbed his temple as he tried to pull up where he had been about two years ago, and what was going on in his life. Another question that confused him was how this woman decided he knew Bobby. When he was with a woman, he never gave his last name, only his first. He never told her anything about himself, or if he did, it was fake. Whoever this woman was, she must have done her research well to find the salvage yard.

He took another swig of the beer and huffed softly. He had a son, a part of him, but what would he do with him? It wasn't like he couldn't take care of him; hell, he raised Sammy from about that age, and he turned out okay. Well, as good as he could be, he chuckled softly at his joke. One thing he didn't want to be was his father, who dragged his son all over the country while he hunted. Could he raise a kid with the life he led?

Dean shook his head, trying to rid his mind of all the unanswered questions rolling around in it. It was starting to get overwhelming, and he couldn't think straight. He pinched his nose and drew a deep breath, letting it out slowly.

"This is from the table over there," Marv told Dean as he set another shot of Jack Daniels before him. Dean startled from his thoughts and looked at the way the bartender was pointing to a table with three young women. The auburn-haired woman waved at him and smiled. If he were in a different mood, he might have jumped at the chance to get laid, but not now. He gave her a brief smile but shook his head no to let her know he wasn't interested before dropping his gaze to his beer bottle.

He was given a wake-up call with a baby showing up out of the blue. He usually took precautions when having sex but there were times he didn't, and it came around to bite him in the ass. He started wondering if there were any more little Deans or Deannas running around he didn't know about. He shuddered and pushed those thoughts aside, thinking knowing about one was enough.

Without thinking about it, Dean picked up the shot glass and drank it slowly, savoring the taste this time. Deciding it would be foolish to get falling down drunk, he was going to stick to beer and lay off the hard stuff. He motioned for another beer from the bartender and pushed the empty aside.

Moisture dripped down the ice-cold bottle and soaked into the napkin it was sitting on. Dean didn't even have a buzz yet, but he was calling it quits after this one. He nursed the beer for as long as he could, not liking it when it got warm. Knowing he couldn't put off leaving any longer, Dean took the last sip of beer and got up from the stool. He headed for the restroom first to get rid of some of his drink before dodging through the crowd to the doors.

The fresh air felt good on his skin as he paused long enough to enjoy it. He pulled his keys from his pocket and continued into the parking lot to the Impala. He decided to stop at the bakery since it was still open and grab a pie for dessert. He wasn't in the mood to have the slice Sam had gotten him from the diner.

The bakery was closing when Dean strolled in and looked at the display cases.

"Can I help you?" a guy behind the counter asked. "We're closing in ten minutes, so there's not much left."

"Do you have any pies?" Dean asked, scanning the counters.

"Well, I do have a couple in the back that haven't been cooked if you don't mind doing that."

"What flavor?"

"There's apple and pecan."

"I'll take one of each."

"Alright, I'll be right back." The baker disappeared into the back while Dean waited on him. He didn't have to wait long until he came out with two boxes in his hands.

"Here you go. I wrote the instructions on how to cook them on the box. That'll be seventeen dollars and ninety cents."

Dean pulled out some bills and placed a twenty on the counter.

"Keep the change." He picked up the boxes and headed back to the car to head home. Traffic was thinning, and he made good time to the salvage yard.

Dean opened the front door and let himself in. He walked into the house, looking around for the others. A light had been left on in the living room, but no one was in sight, including his son. After putting the pies in the fridge, he headed for the stairs, only to be met by an armed Bobby.

"Sorry, didn't mean to wake you," Dean apologized.

"I was reading. Just wanted to be sure it was you."

"Where's…" Dean started, still unsure what to call the baby.

"Sam took the lad upstairs. Said he was going to fix a bed in your bedroom for him."

"Oh," Dean answered. "Guess I'll go on up then. Goodnight."

"Night, son. See you in the morning." Bobby turned and headed to his bedroom as Dean walked up the stairs.

Going to the bathroom first, Dean did his routine and then stepped into the bedroom shared with his brother. He saw the small lamp between the beds was still on and could make out his brother's long form in his bed, snoring softly. He saw a large cardboard box on the floor against the far wall and walked over to it. There was a folded blanket at the bottom and a baby blanket on top of it. He surmised this was Sam's makeshift bed for the baby, but where was the baby?

Puzzled, he stepped to Sam's bed to look down at a sleeping Sam curled around Lucas, who lay tucked into his chest, along with a stuffed white tiger. He couldn't help but smile, thinking they both looked so peaceful. When Lucas grunted and wiggled around, opening his eyes to look up at Dean, he couldn't help himself and eased his son from Sam's arms.

Memories flooded his thoughts of him as a kid, taking care of Sam. He was a child himself, but took on an adult role when their father found out the truth about his wife's death. After that, he was obsessed with finding the demon who killed her and neglected his kids, leaving Dean to be the father, brother, caregiver, and protector for his little brother.

"Hey there, you're supposed to be asleep," Dena whispered as Lucas looked at him before yawning and smiling. He felt the baby snuggle into his neck and settle down. He rocked him for a few minutes to be sure he was asleep before carefully laying him into the box on his back. He laid the blanket over the baby's still form and tucked the tiger next to him before he stepped away.

"Dee…" Sam slurred as he raised his head and looked around for Lucas.

"It's okay, go back to sleep," Dean told him. "I put him in the box."

"Mmmm…" Sam hummed, rolling over.

Dean stripped down to his briefs and T-shirt before crawling into his bed and getting comfortable. He lay in the darkness and listened to his brother's soft snores and the baby's grunting and snuffling. He let his eyes close and used the sounds as a lullaby.

A/N: Thank you for coming along for the ride. I do like reviews/comments. To any guests who have left reviews, thank you. Mary Leal glad to see you back. NC