AU – John disappeared in the night shortly after Mary died, leaving the boys with Mike, his business partner.

My first AU. Feedback appreciated.

Dean – 17 Sam – 13 Mikey – 11

The Problems with Dean

Mike trudged through his front door, weary from another short-handed day at work. If only he could keep a junior mechanic on staff. He sighed as he sank into a kitchen chair with a beer, not quite ready to clean up.

The boys were playing basketball in the driveway, meaning he'd had to park on the street. Their taunts and laughter filtered into the kitchen. He wondered briefly where Dean was, but if the younger boys were outside he guessed Dean could not be far. Mike had never known a teenager who was more of a mother hen.

When he heard Sam's triumphant cry, Mike knew the game was over and his quiet time was about to be invaded. Sure enough, Sam and Mikey got into a shoving match coming through the kitchen door.

"Break it up!" Dean's sharp voice sounded behind them. Mike started at the sound. He wondered if he ever heard the oldest string that many word together before, though Sam often assured him that Dean could hold a full conversation.

The younger boys grinned at each other, bracing themselves against the doorframe, intentionally blocking the door. Mike watched curiously as a hand gripped each boys' shoulder. Mikey was shoved through first, then Sam, closely followed by Dean roughly handling both boys. When he saw Mike, Dean's hands flew to his sides and he looked at the tile floor. At the reaction, which still made Mike cringe even after thirteen years, he had a sudden inspiration.

"Dean? You interested in an after school job?" Mike looked hopefully at the older boy. Dean was nothing if not reliable.

When Dean did not respond, Sam nudged his older brother. "Dean, weren't you just talking about getting a job so you could buy that car?"

"Car?" Mike perked up. "You're looking at getting a car?" Thank God – maybe Dean was doing some normal teenage stuff!

Dean just nodded, his eyes glued to the floor.

"What kind of car?" Mike asked, hoping to keep up the interaction. Even years of therapy and family counseling had not broken this wall of silence Dean built around himself.

Sam nudged him again. "At least show him the ad," Sam hissed.

"Yeah, Dean," Mikey piped up. "It's all you've talked about all freaking week!"

"Language," Dean warned softly before Mike could open his mouth. Mikey glared back at the seventeen year old, but he clamped his mouth shut at the look on Mike's face. "Sorry, Pop," Mikey said sheepishly.

"It's okay, but don't let it happen again." Mike returned his attention to Dean. "So are you going to show me the ad or not?"

Sam nudged Dean forward, closer to Mike. Dean pulled out a well folded page from the newspaper. He handed it over, avoiding Mike's eyes. Mike noticed the eager look on Sam's face and decided to take this very seriously. Mike skimmed the page until he saw the ad that was circled. It was for a classic Mustang. He suppressed the frown he could feel forming.

"Dean? You know we have some older model cars at the shop for sale. Why don't you pick one out and then you can make payments on it out of your paycheck?" Mike handed the page back.

Dean met his eyes, surprise written all over his face. "Really?" Mike felt gratified that Dean was really looking at him.

"Sure. I need a dependable junior mechanic, we're terribly short handed at work, and you want a car. Why not? Sounds like a perfect match." Mike lifted his beer to take a swig.

"When…" Dean stopped, dropping his gaze. Mike noticed Sam nudge him again. "When can I start?" his voice was barely audible.

Mike grinned. Dean working for him just might be what he needed to crack open that armor the boy wore. "How does tomorrow sound?"

Dean nodded. He started to walk away, but he paused. "How do I get there?"

Mike frowned. "Well, I guess I can swing by the school and pick you up."

Dean's eyes jumped back to his face. "No. I always walk the kids home. You can pick me up here."

Mike thought about arguing the point, but Sam and Mikey were both signaling to him. "Okay, fine. I'll pick you up here after school tomorrow."

Dean nodded, his eyes dropping away from Mike again. Dean left the kitchen quickly as Mike shook his head and sighed.

"Thanks, Pop. It'll be good for him." Sam grinned from ear to ear.

But it was Mikey who was excited. "Yes, yes, yes, yes!" He punched the air, dancing around the kitchen.

Mike could not help but chuckle. "What are you so excited about?"

"Dean's gonna be able to take me to school and the movies! Yes!" Mikey shouted.

"Now, Mikey. You don't know that," Mike warned.

"Yeah he does," Sam glared at Mike. "Dean said so."

Mike frowned. "I don't know about that." It just seemed like too much responsibility for a kid, even if Dean was seventeen now.

"Pop!" Sam's eyes rolled dramatically. "Come on! Dean already walks us to and from school everyday. I don't know how many bullies he's saved both of us from, especially Mikey." Sam cut his eyes at the younger boy.

"It's not my fault some kids don't have a sense of humor," Mikey growled defensively.

"But it might be your fault that you got your sense of humor from Dean," Mike pointed out.

Sam's eyes rolled again, this was an old argument. Mikey glared at him. "Pop, what have you got against Dean, anyway?"

Mike was floored. "Against him? What the hell makes you think that I have something against Dean?"

"The way you're always picking on him. Telling him he does too much with us. Criticizing his grades. Trying to move him out of our room." Mikey met Mike's eyes and he was angry, really angry. Mike wondered if he had ever seen his son this angry before.

"But…But it's for his own good. It's what the therapists keep telling us to do." Mike could not believe his own family was attacking him like this.

"Maybe you should listen to us occasionally, instead of those damn doctors," Sam said quietly.

Mike's jaw dropped. His eyes shifted between the two boys standing in front of him who, at only eleven and thirteen, were staunchly defending their oldest brother. Mike held up both hands. "All right. All right. So tell me."

Sam stepped out of the room. He stood in the den for a minute, listening. With a satisfied nod, he came back. "He's listening to his music. We're good." Sam redirected his attention to Mike. He swallowed hard. "Dean needs us around. He needs to take us to school and bring us home. Every time you tell him he shouldn't be doing that, he mopes for weeks."

"And he needs to stay in our room." Mikey added. "Dean keeps me and Sam from killing each other. Plus he still has those nightmares."

This was news. "He told the therapist he hadn't had those nightmares for years."

Sam shrugged. "He's learned to tell them what they want to hear. Honest, Pop, they aren't helping. If anything, Dean is usually more withdrawn when he comes back than he was to begin with."

"Takes about two days after a session to get him to crack a smile," Mikey informed him morosely.

Mike felt his jaw go slack. Could all the doctors be making it worse? He stood, his beer only half finished, and left the room. Mike paused by the boys' room. He waited, listening to Led Zepplin played at too low a volume eeking past the door. Mike made a decision, one he hoped he would not regret, for Dean's sake. He knocked. The music stopped abruptly.

The door opened slowly. "Yes, sir?"

"Dean, you know with you working at the shop," he paused, wondering what his wife was going to say later, "I don't think you'll have time to see your doctors as well as pick the boys up from school." Dean looked crestfallen. "So you're going to have to forego the therapy for a while. We'll have to see how it goes."

Dean's mouth opened and closed a few times like a fish floundering out of the water. His eyes lit up for the first time Mike had seen in years. Literally. Years. "Okay, Pop." He sounded breathless.

Mike stood there, just looking at the teen until Dean's eyes dropped again. "Well, uh, you better get your sleep tonight. I'm going to work your ass off tomorrow."

Even past the averted gaze, he could see the grin on Dean's face. "Yes, sir."

He had been right to worry about his wife's reaction. Kate was furious. Mike even had to call in Sam and Mikey to testify that they felt the therapy was hindering Dean's progress. In the end, Kate agreed to try it on a test basis only. If, after a month, Dean either showed no improvement or was worse, the boy was going back to therapy. Mike agreed.

The next afternoon Mike waited in the kitchen for the boys to come home from school. He was surprised to hear Mikey shouting as they neared the house.

"I can't believe you did that! It was so embarrassing!"

Dean's voice snapped back, "What was I supposed to do? Let him beat you to a pulp?"

The kitchen door slammed open, metal blinds rattling against the window. Mikey stormed in, his face red and one eye swollen. Before Mike could say anything, Mikey ran upstairs.

"What the hell happened?" He demanded as soon as Sam walked through the door.

"Remember what I told you about bullies picking on Mikey?" Sam asked. Without waiting for an answer, he continued, "Well this dude at Mikey's school just wouldn't quit. He had it coming." Sam was deathly serious.

"Had what coming?" Mike was afraid of the answer.

Sam grinned. "Dean." To Sam, that seemed to say it all.

"Dean, what did you do?" Mike's heart was pounding in his chest. Dean had taken various marital arts since he was six, at the therapists' suggestion. It was supposed to make him self-reliant and self-confident. To Mike neither ever appeared to happen.

Dean's eyes met his and, for a change, did not look immediately away. "Some asshole had Mikey pinned on the ground, beating the crap out of him. I stopped it and now he's pissed at me." There was something Mike did not recognize flashing in those green eyes. It was only after he looked at Sam that Mike was able to name it. Anger. Dean was angry.

"Um, Sam? Think you can look after Mikey? We're late for work." Mike could not pull his eyes away from Angry Dean. It was frightening and thrilling all at the same time. Dean could be angry? Dean could explain himself without needing Sam The Interpreter?

"Sure, Pop. No problem." Sam pulled out a ziplock bag and started filling it with ice. Dean moved to go back out the door after dropping his schoolbag on the floor.

"No. You need to change first." Mike tossed him the light blue coveralls waiting on the table.

Dean nodded before leaving the room. He returned in his new coveralls that had his name emblazoned over his left chest. "How did you get this so fast?" he asked, pointing to his name.

Mike shrugged. "Actually, I've been kinda hoping you'd ask to come work at the shop."

Dean graced him with a rare smile before heading out the door. After a week, Mike decided he had definitely made the right call in hiring Dean. Not only was he reliable, but a quick study and inventive. After only two days Dean had reorganized the tool rack he shared with a senior mechanic to be more efficient. When Mike questioned the older man about Dean invading his area, the mechanic had grinned and informed Mike that if all Dean's ideas were this good, the boy could invade his space any time.

Mike had been shocked to find by the end of that first week Dean was actually speaking up at the dinner table.

"So then Jake told me he was taking his whole family, they have two kids, up to the…"

"Three," Dean interrupted as he motioned for Mikey to pass the mashed potatoes. Apparently their disagreement about the bully was over.

"Excuse me?" Mike asked, more surprised that Dean had spoken than anything. Usually they had to drag information out of him.

"Jake has three kids: Josh, Jordan and Lizzie." Dean glopped the potatoes onto his plate, his eyes only on the task at hand.

"No, I'm pretty sure they only have two. Maybe you're thinking of someone else?" Mike suggested. He did not want to squash Dean's new-found voice, but he could not have the boy spouting off wrong information, either.

"Nope." Dean ladled gravy over his potatoes. "He has three kids. You can ask him tomorrow if you don't believe me."

Kate's eyebrows arched at Mike. Normally they did not allow backtalk, especially at the table. Mikey looked amused while Sam was plain shocked.

"I will. And I will expect an apology here, at this table, tomorrow night when I prove you wrong," Mike informed him.

Dean shrugged. He said nothing else for the rest of dinner, silently passing dishes as the younger boys related their days at school. The next morning Mike made a point of calling Jake into his office to enquire about his family. He was shocked to learn that Jake did have three kids, and Dean even had their names right. What was he going to say at dinner? Forget that, what would he say when he picked up Dean for work?

Mike decided to play it cool and act like it never happened. When he picked up his oldest teen, Dean was quiet as usual. Mike thought maybe Dean looked at him a few times during the drive, but he carefully steered the topic around what would be expected of the boy today. Dean mumbled a few "yes, sirs" but that was it. Mike thought he was off the hook.

At dinner that night, Mike encouraged Sam and Mikey to talk about their days first. Both younger boys could really talk, so he was banking on them talking all through dinner. Unfortunately, Mike had forgotten to let his wife in on the plan.

"Dean, don't you have something to say?" Kate asked, interrupting Sam.

Dean shook his head, shoveling in another forkful of food.

"I think you do," Kate said in a singsong voice.

"If the boy doesn't have anything to say, that's fine, Kate," Mike said, shooting her a look which she ignored.

"No, it's not. He told you yesterday that you were wrong, now it's time for Dean to apologize. Dean?" Kate set down her fork to stare at him.

Dean ignored everyone, continuing to eat as if no one had spoken. Sam and Mikey looked on, following each syllable.

"Dean?"

Mike cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Um, actually, Dean was right," he announced. "Jake does have three kids. He probably got their names right too, I don't remember." For a split second he thought he caught Dean's eyes cutting to the side to look at him, but then it was gone.

"Oh. Well," Kate wrung her napkin, glaring at Mike for making her look stupid in front of the whole family. Mike tried to smile apologetically, but he knew he was going to be paying for that one for a while. "In that case, Mike, you owe Dean an apology." Her eyes said he owed her one, too.

Mike cleared his throat. He noticed Dean was no longer eating, just waiting silently. "Um, sorry, Dean."

"For doubting you," Kate prompted.

"Sorry for doubting you," Mike parroted, hoping that would get him off the hook with Kate for a while, though he doubted it.

Dean nodded, then resumed eating. He glanced up to glare at Mikey and Sam, who were openly staring over the apology, which was virtually unheard of from adults in this house. At the look from Dean, Mikey and Sam dove into their plates, racing to see who finished dinner first. Dean took his time, finishing his meal later than the boys.

When all three were finished, Mikey and Sam chorused, "May we be excused?"

"Don't you want dessert?" Kate asked.

"No, thank you!" Mikey and Sam jumped up from the table and raced upstairs. Dean sighed and stood, apparently intending to follow.

"Dean," Mike caught the boy's arm, "what's going on?"

One side of Dean's mouth turned up in a smirk. "I lost a bet." He waited until Mike released his arm before heading upstairs. Mike waited, listening to the heavy footsteps on the stairs. A door opened and there were boys' screams and heavy thumps from upstairs.

"Apparently Dean gets to be the jungle gym now," Mike chuckled. He looked over at Kate, who was frowning deeply. "Ah, now what?"

"He bet that you wouldn't apologize," Kate pointed out. "Is that what we look like to them? Adults too proud to admit when their own kids are right?"

Mike chewed the inside of his cheek. That logic was hard to argue with, and he was not sure if he wanted to answer it.

Kate shook her head. "We've been doing a lot of things wrong, haven't we?" She sighed, starting to clear the dishes. "And we've wasted a whole lot of money."

"That we have," Mike picked up the bowl of brussel sprouts which was still untouched and dumped it in the sink. He turned to face his wife. "So I take it Dean's finished with therapy?"

Kate brushed a tear off her cheek as she nodded. "I can't believe how much better…" her voice broke and she shook her head. "He's actually talking! You should have made him go to work for you years ago," she poked him in the chest.

"I don't think it was just that," Mike said, rinsing the dinner plates before shoving them into the dishwasher. "I think it was a combination of work, not going to therapy, and encouraging him to walk the boys home from school."

"Is he still doing that?" Kate frowned.

Mike grabbed her by the arms. "Honey, I think he lives for that. I really do. You should have heard him the other day when he stopped a bully from pounding Mikey into next week. He sounded…" What was the right word? Kate was waiting expectantly. "He sounded…alive."

She bit her lower lip and nodded. "I've seen that, too," she whispered. "I guess I was jealous that the boys seem to respond better to him. I wanted that. I…" A few more tears trickled down her cheeks. "I guess I'd just better get over that, huh?"

Mike chuckled as he wiped away her tears. "I guess we both better." He retrieved more dirty dishes from the table. "And he really is working out at the garage. I couldn't ask for a better junior mechanic. Most of the guys seem to like him too."

"Just most?" Kate asked.

Mike shrugged. "Well, there's always one or two who shout nepotism, but you gotta ignore that."

There was another loud thump upstairs. "Should we make sure they're not killing each other up there?" she asked, looking at the ceiling with a worried expression.

"Nah. Boys will be boys."

There was a heavy knock on the front door. Mike waved Kate away as he went to answer it. When he reached for the doorknob, he heard the pounding of many feet in the upstairs hall headed for the stairs.

"I got it!" he shouted upstairs. He pulled the door open and his jaw dropped.

Filling his doorway was the one man he never expected to see again. John Winchester. The man who had abandoned his sons to Kate and Mike, mailed them the legal paperwork weeks later, and never tried to make contact with them again.

"Hey, Mike. Can I come in?" The deep baritone was forever etched in Mike's memory, but he could not open the door any further. What if the boys saw him? What might happen? Dean was always in such a fragile state, this could send him reeling after making so much progress! He felt anger flare.

"Get out!" Mike slammed the door in his face. He stood breathing heavy, leaning against the door.

"Pop?" Dean's hand was on his shoulder. "What is it?"

Mike turned. Dean was looking at him and did not look away. Dean initiated a question. Dean was concerned. Dean was worried about him. There was no force on Earth that would make him open that door, not now. "Nothing, son. Go back upstairs," Mike whispered.

John beat on the door, he never was one to be ignored. Mike scowled at the sound.

He felt Dean's hands pull him aside. He watched, helpless, as though he were in a nightmare and unable to interact with the world around him, as Dean opened the door. "Can I help you?"

"Yeah, you can. I'm looking for Dean and Sam Winchester. Can you help me?" John's voice rang out in the evening air.

"Dad?" Mike cringed. He had never been able to convince Dean to call him that, despite years of trying. The closest Dean had ever come was the dreaded Pop, and the younger boys had picked it up, too.

"Dean?" John sounded relieved. Mike thought he might be having a panic attack.

He heard a crash. Mike whirled around to look. Dean was still standing in the open door, but John was not. He stepped forward. John was sprawled on the ground, holding his jaw.

"Guess I deserved that, huh?" John laughed from where he lay. "At least you didn't grow up soft. That'll help."

"You son of a bitch!" Dean shouted, his face red and full of fury. Mike glanced back; Sam and Mikey were on the stairs, watching. "You come back after thirteen years? Go to hell!"

Mike wanted to tell the boys to go to their room, to stop watching. But he could not move. His brain and body were frozen, watching the scene unfold before him in horror.

"Ironically, Hell is the reason I'm here. I've found a way to track the thing that killed your mother, Dean. I want you to help me kill it." John was on his feet, facing down Dean. At one time Mike would have thought that an easy task, but not at this moment. Dean looked like he could have taken on an army of John Winchesters, and that was saying something.

"I said: Go. To. Hell." Dean glared at his father.

"Dean," Mike reached out a hand, breaking his frozen state, steadying the oldest boy. Dean's arm trembled under his touch with pure rage.

"You left us," Dean's voice was barely above a whisper. "You abandoned your family. You don't have the right to come back here now. Pop said Get Out. So get out!" Dean slammed the door in his face. He closed his eyes, leaning heavily against the door and breathing hard. He stayed there until a car engine roared in the night and tires squealed on pavement. "He's gone," he breathed, sliding down to the floor.

"Dads leave," Dean said, staring up at Mike. "I'll never be a dad. Maybe a Pop, but never a dad."

"Dean?" Sam and Mikey were still standing on the stairs. Mikey's mouth was hanging open. Sam looked close to tears.

Dean struggled to stand and the boys raced down to him. Each attached himself to one of Deans' legs after he was standing. "Pop?" Sam cried, tears starting down his cheeks. "You won't let that man take Dean away, will you?"

"Dean's not going anywhere," Mike said softly.

"Why did you call him Dad?" Mikey asked, his head pressed against Dean's stomach.

"Because I'm adopted," Dean said, ruffling both boys' hair. "He used to be my father." He exchanged a look with Mike. Mike was grateful for Dean not mentioning that Sam was adopted too.

"I have to talk to Mom," Sam ran to the kitchen.

"Mom!"

Mike rushed after him. Did he hear John asking for him too? Was that what Sam was worried about? As he entered the kitchen, he saw Sam clinging to Kate, tears streaming down his face. Heavy footsteps behind him signaled that Dean and Mikey were close on his heels.

"Can that man take Dean away?" Sam demanded, shaking her arms.

"What man?" she asked, her eyes meeting Mike's. Mike sighed, shaking his head. "John? He was here?" she whispered, fear flashing across her features.

"Dean's not going anywhere," Mike insisted again, hoping if he said it enough times it would be true.

Dean shook off Mikey to kneel next to Sam, to look up into his younger brother's face. "Sammy, it's okay. He's gone. And if he comes back, I'll hit him again."

Mike heard Kate gasp. She looked to him for confirmation. Mike nodded, feeling more helpless than he did when he watched it happen.

Sam flung his arms around Dean's neck. "Don't let him take you without me," Sam cried. "I have to look after you!"

Dean stood, lifting the sobbing boy with him. He shot Mike a quizzical look, but Mike could only shrug. He had no idea what Sam was going on about either. Dean made eye contact with Mikey. There were tears in those eyes, too.

"Did someone mention dessert?" Dean asked softly.

Kate regained her posture first. "Absolutely. Dessert." She bustled around the kitchen gathering dessert plates and setting them on the table. "Cherry pie and ice cream."

Mike watched the family he had never asked for gather around the table. His family. For the first time in thirteen years, he felt like the luckiest man alive.

Mike served pie while Kate scooped ice cream. "So, Dean," he asked, watching out of the corner of his eye as Dean's attitude and presence calmed the younger boys, "have you given any thought to college?"

"Not really," Dean shrugged.

"Well, maybe you should," Mike stated. "A business degree could be helpful, especially if you're interested in running the garage one day."

Dean's head snapped up, his mossy green eyes boring into Mike. A slow grin seeped into the teen's face as he gave a slight nod. "Maybe someplace local?" he asked tentatively.

"Of course," Kate replied brusquely. "The house wouldn't be the same without you."

It was true, Mike reflected, the house would not be the same without Dean. And right now he would not, could not, have it any other way.