Jump the Shark

Summary: In which the story behind Patrick's keychain is revealed, Kat comes face to face with the existence of the supernatural, and Dean and Sam meet their long lost half brother. Set after Meat is Murder and Everybody Loves a Clown. Mildly AU.

Rating: T

Disclaimer: I own nothing that has anything to do with Eric Kripke's Supernatural or ABC Family's 10 Things I Hate About You. If I did, there would be three very shirtless men running about my apartment, and I would never get any writing done.

AN: Because this story will be floating around out there in crossover land, I want to specify that I am using the ABC Family version of 10 Things I Hate About You. As in, the TV show. Nothing against the movie, but I honestly prefer the TV show. When I think Kat and Patrick, I think Lindsay Shaw and Ethan Peck. Possibly because of Peck's deep, sexy voice. Gets me every time. ;) And the TV verse of 10 Things fits better with my story anyway. So there you have it. I'm shutting up. Enjoy.


Prologue:

Patrick Verona knows a little about a lot of things.

He knows that rock salt will repel an angry spirit.

He knows that sulfur means demons.

He knows that a silver bullet through the heart will kill a werewolf or a shape shifter, and he knows that no matter what Stephanie Meyer might think, vampires do not sparkle.

He knows how to take apart, clean, and put back together a gun. He can also shoot a gun. And he never misses.

He knows what his mother is thinking when she looks at John Winchester. And he knows that John Winchester will never feel the same way.

So it didn't surprise him when John stopped coming around. Even at 14, he knew the score far better than Isabelle Verona ever would. Not because she was stupid, not because she was too in love to see the truth… but because she lied to herself every day, and Patrick couldn't bring himself to call her on it.

He doesn't have a lot left of John Winchester. A box full of charms, a couple guns, a collection of knives, a shelf of old books.

And a keychain. A keychain with a picture inside it. The picture is of him and John. Patrick is ten. John hasn't grown the beard yet. They are at the San Diego zoo. And they are both smiling.

The picture is a lie, and he knows it. But he likes to look at it, every now and again.

No one knows about John Winchester. But then, no one really knows anything about Patrick Verona. They know he has a bitching motorcycle and a way with the ladies. They know if they look at him funny, they might die. They know his mom is a Mexican drug lord, and they know that his dad is in the mafia. They know that he, Patrick, has tasted human flesh. Once, he ate a live duck. Everything but the beak and feet.

No one knows that Patrick's mother is a stripper at the cowboy bar two towns over. No one knows that Patrick's father has been M.I.A. for the past three years, and that prior to his last visit, he was almost never around. The man only dropped in for three weekends a year.

No one knows that Patrick's father spends his time driving around cross country hunting demons. No one knows that Patrick's father is John Winchester.

And Patrick plans to keep it that way.

The man taught him ninety percent of the things he knows. He did it so Patrick could keep himself safe – keep his mother safe. He wasn't schooled in the world of the supernatural so he could sneak out late at night and hunt ghosts.

But Patrick does this anyway. Every time he hears a place is haunted, he can't stop himself from checking it out. Breaking and entering. Running an EMF. Researching in the public library. Climbing over the fence and into some graveyard. Digging up a body. Salting and burning the bones.

His mother knows. It pisses her off.

But it's not like she can really stop him.

He does it because John wouldn't like it. John didn't want him to hunt. John just wanted him to be prepared.

Patrick loves doing things that John wouldn't have liked.

His ghost-hunting hobby is just one more thing that no one in Padua knows about. One more thing he'll never tell anybody.

Except, sometimes, lately more and more, Patrick wants to tell someone all about it.

He wants to tell Kat Stratford.

He won't. She won't get it. He knows she won't get it. She's the practical sort. She doesn't believe in things like ghosts and demons and shape shifters.

It's not like she would help him. He can just see her tagging along on a hunt. Complaining that breaking and entering is illegal, not to mention an invasion on somebody's first amendment rights. Scolding him about grave desecration being disrespectful to the dead. Taking one look at his weapons collection and delivering a sermon about the importance of gun control.

Still, he wants to tell her.

He's not going to. But if he was ever going to tell someone, he knows she'd be the one he told.

He doesn't miss John. John was never really Dad. It has always been Patrick and his mom. The two of them against the world.

Still, every time he breaks a rule or a law, every time he drives too fast, every time he blows away a spirit with a rock salt loaded shotgun shell, he knows he gets an undeniable thrill because he is John Winchester's son. He is more like John Winchester than he will ever be like Isabelle Verona. He knows that when his mom looks at him, listens to him, she sees and hears his father.

And sometimes, that makes him want to punch a wall.

Because Patrick really can't stand his father.

If he ever sees that man again, he's going to tell him so.