The weather
was crisp with a hint of winter in the air.
Dean was staring out the window watching the fields go by. John had Metallica playing on the cassette
deck.
In the back
seat, Castiel watched the man and son.
Dean was listening intently to the music. The angel frowned. Since he had to guard the child, he hoped for
a more eclectic taste. Metallica at almost
age three was a frightening thought.
John turned
left off the highway onto a gravel road.
He drove slower and they arrived at the farm fifteen minutes later. Dean jumped out of the car with angel right
behind him. John was not
far behind, calling to his son to stay with him. The place had the look of neglect. The older Winchester frowned. An elderly
woman came out of the house and walked towards the two Winchesters.
“May I help
you?”
“Yes, Ma’am. I was told you had live turkeys and that you
had a machine that plucked, cleaned, and processed them.”
“I do, but
Mr. Hale is in the hospital and has been for two months. He had a massive heart attack, followed by a
stroke. I will not kill the birds. You want one?
I’ll loan you a rifle and you kill it.
I’ll do the rest.”
John
Winchester smiled and looked down at his blond haired son. This should be an experience for the boy.
Castiel
stood with his eyes opened wide and thought, ‘Are you insane?’
Mrs. Hale
handed the man a rifle. He grinned and
started walking towards the large area where the turkeys were kept. He called to the young boy to follow. Dean
followed his father into a very large penned in area. It had to cover several acres of land. They walked for a while. Dean spotted the hen first and pointed to his
father.
“Daddy, a
big bird!”
John aimed
the rifle and shot and killed the hen.
Dean ran towards it and stopped when he got closer. There was a large hole in the head of the
bird and it lay on the ground, lifeless. He turned towards his father.
“The bird
not moving, Daddy.”
“That’s
right, Son,” John called to him as he walked towards Dean and the dead turkey
hen.
At that
moment a large tom ran out into the field, straight towards Dean. The bird was huge and the young boy, stood
frozen, unable to move at all.
“Dean!” John started running towards his son. He aimed the rifle and fired over the head of
the turkey. The second shot brought the
bird down as it hit his son. Dean lay on
the ground with a large dead turkey on top of him. He started screaming. John ran up and pulled the big bird off the
boy.
“You all right?”
John moved experienced hands over the boy, checking for injuries. The younger Winchester just nodded yes.
“Then quit
screaming, Dean,” the older man told him.
He handed the rifle to the boy and told him not to point it at
anything. John hauled in the two
turkeys.
Mrs. Hale
kept the tom and prepared the hen for John.
He paid her and put the large bird in the trunk of the car. Dean just stared at it. The angel was upset with the man, and did not
understand why Father stopped him at the last minute. He would have pulled the boy out of harm’s
way. He questioned it on the way home.
“You may not
interfere in such ways, Castiel. Little
things that are not noticed will be permitted, but that would have allowed
everyone to know you are here watching him.
It must not be known. Not now.”
Castiel did
not understand but did not question further.
He was concerned about the quiet and stillness in his young charge.
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