Dean dragged
both duffels downstairs the next morning.
John was asleep on the couch.
Bobby was in the kitchen. Sam was
coming down right behind his brother.
Setting the duffels in a corner, Dean took Sam by the hand and led him
into the kitchen
Bobby was
drinking coffee and looked up when the boys entered. His eyes were red. Castiel wondered if the redness was alcohol
or tears and wished he could just ask but Father would be upset if he did
so.
Breakfast
was already ready for the boys and he had packed lunches for them, figuring
John would forget to feed them until Dean reminded him. The man was worried about the two
children. John had only one thing on his
mind; hunting.
“Dean, your
Daddy is taking you boys with him when he wakes up."
Hazel eyes
stared into the older hunter’s. The
blond head nodded but the boy kept quiet.
“You can
talk to me, Dean. I’m not your
Daddy. I’ll be one for you any time you
need one. You understand?”
“Yes, Unca
Bobby.”
John stood
in the doorway.
“Don’t fill
his head with all of this childhood crap, Bobby. Dean, are you finished eating?”
Dean looked
at his half-finished plate and back at his Father.
“Yes, Sir.”
“Put your
stuff in the car.”
The little
boy ran into the other room and dragged his and his brother’s duffels out to
the Impala.
“He wasn’t
through eating, John, but you knew that.”
Castiel
stood in front of John and looked into his face. The man was not completely sober.
“Yeah,
Bobby, I knew that. He’s got to learn to
tough it out. Nice meals are a luxury
for a hunter. Dean better learn it now.”
“You’re
still an ass, John. Sign over custody of
the boys to Pastor Jim or me and let us raise them.”
“I need
them, Bobby. Thanks, but I’m not gonna
do that.”
Dean walked
back into the house. He grabbed Sam’s
car seat and took it to the car and strapped it into the backseat. He was shaking as he did it. Castiel followed him out this time and could see
how the child was struggling not to cry.
The boy didn’t need another loss.
‘Father,
please let me push John Winchester to let the boys stay here?’
‘No, my
Son. Dean will not become what he needs
to become by staying here.’
‘I don’t
understand, Father.’
‘When the
time comes, you will.’
Dean ran to the house as John and Bobby came outside.
John gave Sam to Dean.
“He’s your
responsibility from now on, Son. I will
hold you accountable.”
Doing what
he always did, Dean looked at Bobby and whispered, “What?”
John
interrupted, “It means that anything happens to him, it’s your fault.”
The hazel eyes
widened. Castiel clenched his fists and
lowered his head. Bobby grabbed John’s
shirt front and shoved him off the porch.
“You aren’t
fit to be a father, John. You hurt that
boy in any way and I’ll fill you full of buckshot.”
John sneered
and told Dean to put Sam in the car and buckle them both up. Dean ran to Bobby and hugged him. The boy was trembling.
“I love you,
Unca Bobby,” he whispered.
Bobby knelt
down.
“I love you
too, Son.”
John was
halfway to the car and yelled, “Dean, I gave you an order, Boy!”
Dean took
Sam and buckled him in. Climbing into
the backseat of the Impala, he looked out the window at the hunter standing in
the yard. Castiel had gotten into the
front seat. He sat so he could watch his
charge. Dean kept his face
emotionless.
The car
pulled out of Singer’s Salvage.
No comments:
Post a Comment