DISCLAIMER: I don't own Supernatural

WARNING: Mention of abuse, and possible graphic scenes in future chapters. Slash, but not Wincest, since Sam and Dean are not releted.

"Look, Bobby - I honestly don't like the idea either, but what other choice do we have?" John is sitting on an old wooden table, right across his friend. They look exhausted as if they had spent the entire night talking. Oh wait, they have.

"John, you've see the kid's face when Miller shot himself. He was-what? Six years younger than him? I bet he's playing the scene in his head over and over, even in his sleep-" Bobby looks irritated now "- and feeling guilty like hell…" John glares at him.

Wow, if looks could kill, Bobby would totally be…

"It's not his fucking fault, Bobby!" Dean's train of thoughts has been interrupted, again " We can't save every fucking person on this fucking planet!"- John interrupted.

He's inserting a "fuck" every two words- he sounds pissed, but Dean knows it's actually his father's way to deal when he feels helpless.

The conversation is getting out of hand, Dean can tell by the way the two men keep interrupting each other; he himself is struggling to keep up.

One thing seems pretty clear to him, though: they are talking about him.

And, as far as Dean is concerned, there is just one thing to do in cases like this:

"What the fuck are you two yelling for?"- unexpectedly interrupt.

Man, it always works so well it's almost unbelievable. Two trained hunters, who could hear a bug flying a mile away during a hunt, didn't hear him approaching? And the floor even squeaks like a fucking mouse, what do they need to notice him-some trombones playing while he walks?

Whatever.

Apparently, an angrily yelled question works as well. Maybe even better.

What the hell are you still talking to yourself for, Dean Winchester? Get a grip on yourself, for god's sake.

"So?" Dean is tired -no, he's exhausted- from last night's hunt, and just wishes he could get some sleep.

Yeah, right. Like if you could sleep after the kid fucking shot himself right in front of you.

Anyway. What were we talking about? Oh, right:

"I'm still waiting, here". His father and friend study him for a little while longer, as if trying to estimated how much of that yelling was caused by anger, and how much by fear and exhaustion.

John is the first one to look at him in the eyes "Dean."

When John's pause lasts more than 3 seconds, Dean raises an eyebrow in disbelief. What could possibly make his dad so hesitant?

John seems to shook himself from his insecurity, straightening himself up .

"Look, son: I understand you must be shaken by the events of last night, but we have just found another kid. The last one, to be more precise. He's the same age as the Miller kid, and he goes –or at least he's supposed to- to a school near here. I know you must be traumatized by what happened with Miller, but son, you couldn't have helped it…"

John is talking too fast again, his words are barely registering in Dean's mind, but he does hear his father last sentence, and if meant to be reassuring, it just makes Dean angrier than he already was.

"What is that supposed to mean? Of course it could have been helped! I should have seen the fucking gun in the first place!- John opens his mouth as to say something- And even if I might not have been able to stop him from getting the gun with his freaky mind-thingy he had going on, I should have found him sooner. You've heard him: he has been abused for the last three months, exactly two months after his powers had appeared. Which means long past the time we should have found him, long past the time we should have stopped his father from doing that to him. We might hunt monsters, dad, but we missed that one. We missed him, and Max paid the price." Dean is pissed. Really pissed. How could his father be so cold-hearted? The kid had been-

"He was never abused, Dean."

Wait, what?

"What?" Dean says, his voice barely more than a whisper.

"He was never abused. We checked his medical records for any clue that something might have happened. Max was totally fine. Healthier than any of us. We even check his other family members' records and everything looks fine. A normal, apple-pie life. What happened was terrible, but it's not on you, son. The kid had issues that neither you nor us could have solved. But we can help this kid. We can get him before the demon does. He's a few weeks younger that Max, so his powers might not have shown up, yet." John's words are followed by silence. Dean is still trying to make some kind of sense out of all that he had just been told, while Bobby just looks…resigned.

"Bobby?" Dean voice is soft, but Bobby's head shoots up at the whispered word, as if he has just realized where he is.

"Yeah, kid?" Bobby seems to try to put a smile on his face, but it comes out more like a grimace.

Dean just looks at him, and tilts his head a little. Bobby knows perfectly well what Dean wants to know, so there is no point in wasting breath.

"He's just a kid, Dean. And he doesn't know a thing about all this shit. No werewolves, or shape shifters, or freaky mind powers. He might be going through some rebellious stage, but in the end, he's living a safe, normal life. And the world is about to crash on him."

Dean waits patiently, he knows there is something more Bobby needs to say-"Your daddy, here" Bobby sounds annoyed, while he tilts his head in John's direction "thinks you should go pick him up tomorrow-" he glances at his watch and corrects "- today to tell him what's gonna happen to him and that he needs to come with us" Bobby turns to look at John.

"If you say it like that, you make me sound like a cold-hearted bastard" John says.

"Well, that's because you are." Bobby is straightening himself up on the chair, as if ready for another argument.

So it's Dean turn to talk and try placate the two men:

"Ok. I'll do it."