"No, it doesn't have to be," the older man said, giving a look to Bobby. That didn't need to be brought up, not at all truthfully.
“It doesn’t?” Dean stared at the man he thought of as his father, then turned towards the one who spoke, “Then why?”
Bobby looked at him. “Because you have not been well, Dean. You are pushing yourself over the limit daily. You don’t do right all of the time. None of us knows why you are so damn tired, Dean. You’re weak. Part of it is you over do. We are trying to help you. We set up a calendar of what you can and can’t do. You aren’t going by it, boy. Not by a long shot. Getting upset over the Scottish stuff and making yourself sick over the Mexican food you shouldn’t have been eating. You get upset and you throw what I call a tantrum. Dean, You get help. Okay?”
Dean mumbled a soft reply. Bobby got up to check the meat on the grill. Both men heard him mutter, “Need to speak louder and plainer than that, son. Idjit.”
The older man said nothing, simply waited for the other to respond.
‘“You’d think I’d be good at this by now, wouldn’t you? Maybe it was stupid. I don’t know. It’s just that I planned the past weekend and it was supposed to be special. I was panicking because I wasn’t sure what I needed to do or where to go. Sam helped me with that. He was having his problems at the time, so I worried about him. I was just tired. There were practical jokes and the typical crap that we get into. That’s why I’ve got the bruise on my forehead. I went to a lot of trouble picking out rings and the restaurant Sam helped me find was really special. Instead of the weekend ending like it should’ve, we got into this thing about the Campbells. I really didn’t want to be involved in it. Sarah and Lisa couldn’t let go. It angered me, Watari. I had read about them on the Internet. I jokingly called a kilt a skirt. It went downhill fast. I asked them to just let it go. I wasn’t trying to tell Sarah to change anything. It was like she was angry for me not wanting to be proud of my Scottish ancestors. I wasn’t given a choice. I had two women mad at me, and I’d just proposed to one of them.”
"Women usually have a difficult time in calming down," he murmured. "Young Sarah is proud of her heritage, justifiably so. I believe what disturbed her is that you didn't want to share something with her that she could teach you. She's got little to bond with you over, Dean, and to her, this was a good opportunity."
“Yeah, well...I’ve been planning and scheming since then to make it up to her. I’m reading the books Sam got for my library. It doesn’t mean I like them or ever will. My name is Winchester, not Campbell. To be honest, I knew nothing about them. Dad never mentioned them.”
"It's understandable," he said, leaning back in his seat. "How far back did you research, Dean?"
“Far enough to know what they did at Glencoe. It was not something I could be proud of. I’ve killed, Watari. I’ve been pretty bloodthirsty when it was needed, but I don’t kill babies and pregnant women. That’s a stain that will never go away. They were invited in and they spent the night under the roofs of the people they butchered.”
"You need to go back further, Dean, and really take a look at the history of the Scottish people before the clan systems really took hold. Did you know that the Scotsmen of the last century is a mix of several different cultures? You have the Celts, the Vikings, the Gaels..and the Picts. All of whom were avoided religiously by the Romans," he told him.
“I’m reading a book on the Scottish clan system right now. The Romans? They conquered all of the known world, except those people in the north of England?”
Watari nodded, sipping his tea. "And who do you think those people are the ancestors of, Dean? If you can't be proud of the clan, then be proud of the history of the people who spawned your mother's side of the family. They scared the holy terror out of the Romans."
“Okay. There’s a history of the Scottish people on the shelf. I’ll put the clan system history back and read it first. Thanks, Watari.”
"Anytime," he said with a smile. "That'll give you something to talk to Sarah about. That's the history she's proud of."
"Irish have pretty much the same mix, Dean, or didn't you know that? Less Viking, hence the shortness," he pointed out.
“Really? Heh...okay. I’ll deal with it then.” Dean started to rise and take his empty glass into the kitchen. He could feel Bobby’s eyes on him, but had not met the man’s gaze.
Watari sipped his tea, giving a satisfied smile. He'd helped smooth that out at least.
Bobby was turning the meat and checking for doneness. He’d gotten everyone’s order for the steaks. He watched the boy walk into the kitchen with glass and shook his head.
The older man looked at him. "You really do need to give him some space, Bobby. He's doing the best he can and is learning to get help when he needs it. Seeing the doctor without us pushing him to do so is a good sign of that."
“You’re right, but he did his double talk, Watari. You got the reason he was upset, and you helped him with it. Made you feel good about it? That’s Dean double talk. He gave you enough to satisfy you. He didn’t answer the question. Sam and me...well, we know him. On our way home after all of the fuss, it was getting close to lunch time. Dean pulled into a roadside Mexican restaurant. He had spicy food. We had a very sick Dean that night. Doc doesn’t know it "
"You know why he gave me the reason for being upset but not the others? Because he's been pushed too hard to give up what's going on. There's a line that has to be balanced in regards to helping people, Bobby. You can only push so much before they start giving part of what needs to be said," he told the younger man quietly.
“I’m not arguing with you, Watari. I’m telling you he didn’t answer your question. You asked him about why he made himself sick? He gave you a damn good reason. I can understand him fighting change. Both of those girls seem to be trying to change him in some way or another. The thing is he knew he shouldn’t be eating what he ordered. The food was good, but Dean does have a problem. It’s been months since he used to eat the type of food he ate that day. He was deathly ill. That was what was bothering you when you asked him, wasn’t it? He told you the reasons for being upset, but not for doing what he did. He’s worrying me.”
"And I have to trust him to come to me with that information, Bobby. He knows he didn't give me the answer and that I'm still waiting. He'll bring it to me when he's ready."
“Dean? You think he will? I want to see that. Why will he do that?”
"Because he trusts me not to push," came the soft answer. "He knows that I am aware he will come to me when he's ready. I've a bond with him on that. He gives the information when he's had a bit to process on it and then comes to me to see if he's right on why he did what he did."
“Then he’s definitely grown more mature. I would expect that from Sam, but Dean has always been pretty closed. I know you broke down a lot of barriers, but I had no idea that was one of them. He never told us that what he had on his plate as far as work, school, and home was too much. We set him up a schedule He’s a good boy. I’ll try what you’re suggesting.”
The elderly man gave the hunter a smile. "I think you'll find it works. Just be available for when he's ready to talk, Bobby, and that will make a lot of difference in regards to how the relationship between you two goes.
“I’ll do that. Here he comes.”
Dean had glass of apple juice and sat down. He looked up at Bobby and met the older hunter’s intense stare, not backing down. He finally turned to Watari.
“After we eat, I’d like for you, Bobby, Sam, and Doc to come to my office. I kinda left you hanging. I’m sorry. Just, I can’t talk about it here where we can get interrupted.”
"Of course," he murmured, taking another sip of his drink. "We'll be there when you're ready."
Dean nodded and looked at his father figure. “Bobby?”
“Yeah, you know I will be. This food is done. You want to let everyone know so they can get the tables ready?”
“Sure. I’ll do that on my way to get the boys.”
Watari climbed to his feet, reaching for the platter to set the food on from the hot grill. "Here, this should help."