Dean was moved from ICU to a room and was eating a
breakfast sent up by dietary. Bobby took
the time to go downstairs to eat breakfast and have another cup of coffee.
The boy was watching a cartoon on the television that
was mounted on the wall. He wanted to go
the motel and make sure Sam was all right, but the doctor said he had to stay
one more day.
John entered the room and stared at his son. The hazel eyes showed surprise and a hint of
fear. Both knew Dean had failed to obey
his father’s orders. John intended to
instill that fear in his boy.
“Hey, Dean.”
“Hi, Dad. I’m
sorry.”
“You let me down, Boy.
You let Sammy down. Who let Bobby
in?”
“I don’t know. I
was sick, Dad.”
“Dean? You
failed me. You failed Sam. We are in a war, boy, and soldiers can’t
afford to fail their commanders. I
trusted you and you failed. I can’t
afford to keep you around if you can’t do your job. I have to know Sam is okay.”
“I called Bobby when I got too sick to watch him. I didn’t have a phone number for you.”
“I have the number where Pastor Jim is staying. I’ll come get both of you tomorrow. I want to be proud of you, Boy. I can teach you how to protect Sammy, but you
have do the job. You have to be a good soldier.
You don’t let me down. I won’t
let you down.”
“Yes, Sir,” Dean voice quavered.
Castiel sat in the chair, wishing he’d gone ahead and
finished what he’d started in Oregon. He
knew that, this time, Father would intervene if he did.
“Remember what I said, Son. I’ll make you a warrior, but you have to have
more discipline and do your job. I’ll
pick you both up tomorrow.”
John left the room
Castiel looked at his charge and wanted to tell him to
be a little boy. It would be all right,
but he knew it wouldn’t be. He couldn’t
stop it.
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