Title: Something Wicked

Fandom: Supernatural

Author: Rosegirl94

Characters: Dean, John, Sam, Pastor Jim

Summary: "Dad just grabbed us and booked. Dropped us off at Pastor Jim's about three hours away, but by the time he got back to Fort Douglas the shtriga had disappeared, it was just gone. It never surfaced until now. Dad never spoke about it again, I didn't ask. But he...ah...he looked at me different, you know? Which was worse. Not that I blame him. He gave me an order and I didn't listen, I almost got you killed."

Spoilers: None

Disclaimer: I don't own anything from this great show. Unfortunately. So I just borrow my boy from time to time.

Reviews are love.

"All right. You know the drill, Dean. Anybody calls, you don't pick up. It's me, I'll ring once then call back. You got that?"

"Mm-hmm. Only answer the phone if it rings once first."

"Look alive, dude, this stuff is important."

"I know, it's just...we've gone over it like a million times and you know I'm not stupid."

"I know you're not, but it only takes one mistake you got that?"

"All right, if I'm not back Sunday night...?"

"Call Pastor Jim."

"Lock the doors, the windows, close the shades. Most important..."

"Watch out for Sammy. I know."

"All right. If something tries to bust in?"

"Shoot first, ask questions later."

"That's my man."

"Get out of the way!"

"Sammy. Sammy. You ok?"

"Yeah Dad, what's going on?"

"You all right?"

"What happened?"

"I just went out."

"What?!"

"Just for a second, I'm sorry."

"I told you not to leave this room. I told you not to let him out of your sight!"

The ride to Pastor Jim was horrible. John drove like a maniac and didn't speak a single word in the first hour at all.

Dean was sitting in the back with Sammy, holding him tight, and being very focused to not let the tears in his eyes fall. He didn't want to give his father another reason to be upset. John hadn't looked at his oldest at all since they left the motel. From time to time he directed some words towards Sammy, who was most of the time fast asleep. It was, after all, only 2 o'clock in the morning.

When they finally reached Blue Earth, John quickly took their things out of the trunk and helped Sammy getting out of the car. He was in a rush to get back- he never left anything unfinished.

"Thanks Jim." He simply said and patted his old friend on the shoulder.

"Be good, Sammy. I love you." He kissed his youngest on the forehead and left, without another word or even a look towards Dean.

Dean felt sick. His father was pretending that his good-for-nothing-son was invisible. Dean would rather have taken a beating or a verbal smack-down. At least it would mean that John hadn't given him up completely.

Jim hadn't missed the tension of course but, as in his nature, he remained quiet. John left and Jim looked at the two little boys standing in his driveway.

"Okay, boys. Grab some sleep. You must be exhausted."

"Both of you.", he added and patted the older one on the back.

Sam woke up early next morning and was a bit confused at first. He thought that he just had had a weird dream but apparently he didn't imagine the drive to Minnesota. Dean was under his covers and it seemed like a good idea for Sam to wake him up, because- you know – he was bored and hungry and Dean always cared for him, no matter what time of the day it was.

He made a big jump and landed on Dean's back. Dean woke abruptly up. He had just fallen asleep an hour ago!

"Dean, I am hungry!", Sammy whined.

"Go away, Sam."

"I want to play!"

"I said get lost!" Dean tried to sit up and Sam, thinking that Dean wanted to smack him upon the head, tumbled backwards and fell out of bed. He started screaming immediately even though he obviously hasn't hurt himself.

"Sam, psst, be quiet. Please.", Dean begged while he tried to get Sam up from the floor. Sam didn't even had a scratch!

They heard Jim running up the stairs and Dean really just wanted to disappear for good. Why did he caused everyone who was nice to him so much trouble?

"What happened? Are you guys alright?", he said, completely out of breath.

"Dean. Pushed. Me!" Sam started crying again and shot Dean a glare. Jim looked at Dean who hung his head down in embarrassment.

"I just make you a nice hot chocolate and then you'll be alright." Jim picked Sam up from the floor and lifted him on his waist.

"We'll talk later.", he mouthed to Dean. Jim closed the door and Dean was alone. Alone with his thoughts and never in his life had he felt loner. He closed his eyes and simply felt miserable.

Jim came up only half an hour later with a cup of tea and a bowl full of cereal.

"He is asleep now, Dean. Tell me, what happened?", he asked softly.

"Sam jumped on me and I just wanted to get -"

"That is not what I meant..."

"Oh. That..."

"Yes, "that"..." Dean hesitated a moment. And then the words just flew.

"I let Dad down. Big time! I am soo unworthy..." He couldn't stop the tears from falling and quickly and furiously wiped them away. Jim stopped his hand.

"It is alright to cry, Dean..."

"No, it is not. I am the one who lets everyone down and therefore I shouldn't be the one crying. How messed up is that?!"

"You don't let everyone down, Dean-"

"I almost got Sam killed, then I hurt him and I let Dad down..."

"Sam isn't hurt and you know that. He is a little child; they always cry about the most simple things. About the second part, I don't know what happened but I am sure as hell that you are just-"

"No, Jim. Dad told me to stay in the motel to watch Sammy while he was hunting this thing and I got bored and went out to play... stupid video games! What kind of son does that? By the time I got back it already started to... kill Sammy. Dad just got in in time... I wasn't even strong enough to pull the damn trigger and then... Dad just... He hates me. I have seen it in his eyes..." Dean started sobbing that hard that it was difficult for Jim to make out even a single word. Nevertheless, what he had heard was enough to break his heart.

"It is alright, Dean. You and Sam are both safe. Your dad will kill that thing and it will all work out. Believe me."

Dean placed his head on Jim's shoulder and allowed himself to be himself- just a small little scared boy.

"No, John! You are going to listen now. You can't just drop the boys off here without any explanation and then show up and expecting me to sort out your problems. Dean is a kid. A young, scared child and you know what- he is YOUR child. Your boy, goddammit."

"Careful here, padre." Jim glared at John.

"You know, always keeping all your troubles and fears inside you, will eat you up one day."

"Jim, Dean messed up and he knows that. There is nothing I can do about it, nothing that would change the situation a bit..."

"He thinks you hate him."

"What? Why would he think that?"

"Oh, I don't know, John... Maybe, because you are his hero and he looks up to you ever since... Anyway. I am not stupid, so I assume you must also have noticed. Just one example- when you left here off, who got the kiss and the reassuring words, hm?"

"Do you have any idea how close I got to losing Sammy?"

"Do you have any idea how close you are to losing Dean right now?", Jim countered and it took John a few minutes to realize its meaning. He felt sick.

"Is he in his room?"

"Indeed."

"Thanks, Jim."

John got up the stairs and hesitated a while before knocking on the door that parted him from his son. Dean didn't reply but John didn't wait for him to do so. He entered the room and sit down on Dean's bed.

"I know that you are awake, son. I know you well enough to tell the differences.", John said softly. He carefully removed the covers from his son's head and looked into bright, green eyes that were all puffy and red from crying and exhaustion.

"Have you slept at all?" Dean just simply nodded. John looked at him stern. Dean shook his head at this gesture. John smiled sadly and began to stroke his son's soft hair.

"I could never hate you, champ."

"I really let you down this time, dad..."

"Yeah, you did, but you know what? There is nothing you can do that would ever make me stop love you. Nothing! However, I would be grateful if you don't test that theory any further out. Thank you very much." He hoped Dean would recognize it as what it was- a little joke to offer peace.

"I will never disappoint you again, dad. I promise."

"I know, sport, I really do. But back to my question. You know, that I would never hate you, right?"

"Yessir.", Dean said in a neutral voice.

"Do you want to sit on my lap, boy?", John suddenly asked.

"I am way too old for that, dad.", Dean said embarrassed.

"Yeah, yeah, you probably are...", John muttered and pulled Dean, nevertheless, on his lap. Dean hesitated at first and remained stiff, but then, he totally gave in and snuggled into his dad's shoulder. It was all forgiven.

"Way too old.", he insisted.

"'Course you are, and thanks, you know how to keep your old man busy." John laughed while saying this.

"You are not old, dad!", Dean said determined.

"You just that you are too old and... anyway, you are so gonna-"

"Yeah, yeah, dad. I know, one day I am so gonna be the death of you!", Dean said and finally, he grinned. John kept saying that to his little trouble-maker and Dean often wondered why. It wasn't like he was some sort of a hard kid. No, he wasn't!

John tickled him: "Mark my words, Dean. Mark my words."

Dean and John never spoke about the shtriga again until the day when he sent his son some coordinates to finish unfinished business. He had confidence in his son and knew he was the right man for the job. That, and that he raised a hell of a man!