Thursday, January 24, 2013
Snippets One Hundred Thirty-Two: Dean and John Part Two
Three hours later, John had not returned. Dean had almost called Bobby, but knew the trouble it would bring on. John Winchester was angry enough to report the older hunter.
Sam mumbled about no food and dug through the duffels in hopes of finding something. Dean shook his head, knowing his brother would find nothing. John didn’t always eat if he had alcohol.
“Hey, Dean!” an excited voice interrupted the older boy’s thoughts.
“Yeah, Sammy,” the teen answered.
“Dad left his emergency wallet in his duffel,” the boy replied eagerly.
Dean moved from the window and knelt down by his father’s duffel. The wallet had over one hundred dollars in it. The older boy looked into his brother’s eyes.
“Let’s walk over to the Kettle and eat supper. I’ll bring something home for Dad. He’s out drinking somewhere, Sammy.”
“Okay!” Sam was hungry. Dean smiled and walked over to the table and picked up the keys.
The two boys ate a large meal and Dean ordered a steak, baked potato, salad, pie, and a coffee for his Dad. The older boy paid for the meal.
It was getting dark when they walked back to the motel. Dean and was laughing at something his younger brother was saying. He looked up and stopped, the smile leaving his face. Sam followed his brother’s gaze. The Impala was parked in front of their room.
“We didn’t do anything wrong, did we Dean”
The taller brother looked down at the younger one. He forced a small smile on his face.
“No, we didn’t, Sammy. Dad didn’t come back. We had to eat. You’re a growing boy.”
Sam nodded in relief and the two walked to their room. John was half asleep in the car. Dean had the keys. The boy bit his bottom lip and opened the door to their room. He set the food on the table and turned to go wake his Dad when the door burst open.
“Where the hell have you been? I come back with everything and you sneak out and take your brother with you!”
"Where were you?"
“Sam was hungry. We walked over to the restaurant,” Dean’s voice shook slightly.
“You had no money,” John asserted.
“You had your emergency wallet in your duffel,” Dean whispered.
“You stole my money?”
“Dad, that’s our money. You didn’t come back. How was I to know if you were going to?”
“You little bastard! You don’t talk to me that way and you don’t steal from me,” John shouted as he stumbled towards his oldest son.
Dean panicked, “Dad, you gonna start something in front of Sam?”
John stopped, looked at the fear on the face of his youngest boy.
“I got you food and then I can take care of the wounds, Dad?”
“I’m not hungry,” the man slurred.
“Dad, you can’t do this on a stomach full of alcohol and no food. You’re gonna end up puking your guts out.”
John’s bloodshot eyes stared into this son’s. He nodded and moved towards the table. Dean released a deep breath.
Castiel had been ready to take on the drunken man, knowing he’d be recalled and both boys would have seen him. He shook his head and sat across from the man, giving him a glaring look.
Dean sat on one bed and watched his brother move away from the table and give him a questioning stare. He shook head and motioned for Sam to sit next him. The boy obeyed for a change.