The Half-Brother ch 14
Title: The half-brother
Fandom: Supernatural
Summary: AU: John left when Mary got pregnant with Dean. Few years later he came back with a new family. Now, almost 17 years later, Sam and Dean learn what it means to be brothers.
Beta’d by: Lotrspnfangirl and Renversermonmonde (Trickstermoose67 on tumblr)
Chapter 14
The first thing Dean saw as the morning sun woke him up was a 5x8 printed photo, the edges slightly worn and the tape against the wall yellowed. In it, he couldn’t be more than seven years old. His clothes were dirty, jeans ripped around a big red bruise on his knee, and he had a missing front tooth, leaving a big hole in his smile. His smile, however, reached from ear to ear as he held up a gold medal towards the camera, a football under his other arm.
He remembered when the photo was taken, right after he had won his first and only football match. He had scored the winning goal for his team at the very last minute. He remembered running to his mom after having been handed his medal, wanting nothing more than to show it to her.
He’d been so happy when the photo was taken, he hadn’t noticed until afterwards that all of his teammates were celebrating with their dads. Some of their mothers were there too, taking pictures as the dads hoisted their sons up on their shoulders or clapped them on the shoulder with a proud smile, but it was the dads that were laughing and shouting, “Did you see how my son tackled that ball from the other team? Just like his old man.”
A few of the dads suggested celebrating by going out for pizza, their treat and everything. All of the other boys had jumped at the chance, but Dean hadn’t felt like celebrating anymore. Even though his mom kept pressuring him to join his team, he opted out, wanting to go home with her instead.
Later that evening, Bobby, who had been working the whole day, showed up and placed a cap with # 1 on the front panel, on Dean’s head and demanded to see the tape of today’s match.
The next hour and half was spent watching Bobby rewinding and shouting at the TV. When Dean scored the final goal, he had jumped up from the couch and in all the commotion, emptied his beer glass all over Dean and Mary.
Dean remembered laughing so hard that tears streamed down his cheeks, as his mom called Bobby a ‘sport crazy idiot’ with a laugh.
After everyone had changed into dry clothes, Bobby took them out to eat. He bought Dean the biggest slice of pie available for desert, asking Dean to tell him every play, even though he’d seen it. Dean did so happily, recalling the entire game for Bobby, everything that happened in the match right up till his mom sent him to bed.
The wall in front of him was littered with photos of him growing up. He was alone in most of them, but a few had him with his mom, Bobby, or friends. He let his eyes scan from the football game photo to the next, a picture taken the same day with him sound asleep and wearing the cap Bobby had gotten him. He’d long outgrown it, but it was still hanging up in his room.
Speaking of his room… Dean blinked, confused as he looked around. Why wasn’t he in there? He had a moment of panic before he recognized his mom’s room and the answer came as soon as he tried to sit up.
Pain shot up his arm as soon as he had put little pressure on it and he looked down to see he’d been done up in a cast. He recalled being discharged early in the morning but he could hardly remember the trip home, just that Bobby and Ellen had showed up together to drive them. His mom had climbed into the backseat with him, supporting him during the ride and walking inside their house. Apparently they hadn’t made it all the way upstairs to his room.
On the bedside table next to him was a glass of water, a bottle of painkillers, and a note in his mother’s handwriting saying, “Shout, when you wake up!”
His throat was still sore, so he knew he wouldn’t be shouting any time soon, but he also knew his mom was close enough to hear him nonetheless. “Mom,” he said in a raspy voice.
“Morning sweetheart!” came his mother’s voice right below him. “How are you feeling?”
Looking over the edge of the bed, Dean saw his mother curled up on an air mattress. She didn’t look like she’d gotten a wink of sleep. Ignoring his mom’s question, he asked, “Why are you on the floor? There’s plenty of space on the bed.”
“I didn’t want to accidentally hurt you in my sleep,” said his mom through a groan as she stretched her back.
Lifting an eyebrow, Dean said, “You sleep like the dead. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve poked you just to see if you’re alive.”
“And here I was trying to be considerate. Not all of us sleep like the dead you know,” Mary said with a sigh, “I still have nightmares from when you used to sleep in my bed.”
“Haha,” Dean quipped, rolling his eyes. “I would kick you if I could.”
“Mmhmm, is that any way to talk to your mother?” said Mary with a chuckle. Dean gave her a sheepish smile in response. “Now, how do you feel? And no ‘I’m fine’ bullshit, Dean Winchester.”
“My head and arm hurt a little,” Dean answered honestly, squirming a little bit against the mattress to take stock of how he felt. “But its nothing some painkillers won’t take care of,” said Dean eyeing the medicine bottle.
His mom watched him with thoughtful eyes as she reached for the pills and water. “Take this but if the pain gets any worse, you need to let me know,” she said holding out the two painkillers for him. “I mean it, Dean.”
“I will.” His mom had a right to be worried, he didn’t have the best track record of letting her know when he was hurting; he hated worrying her and would rather downplay it for as long as he could. Plus, he didn’t like going to the doctors. “I will. I promise,” he added after seeing the unconvinced look on his mom’s face.
His mom was quiet for a while, looking at the cast on his arm. “Want to talk about what happened?” she asked eventually.
“No, not really,” Dean answered looking up at the ceiling. It was the safest place to look. There were no photos of smiling people or worried mothers there. “I don’t really remember it. I just remember someone jumping me on my way home and being driven somewhere. And- it gets a little foggy after that,” Dean said with a far away look in his eyes, before it was overtaken with confusion. “Was Cas there?”
“He and his brother found you and brought you to the hospital,” explained Mary. After telling him everything the doctors and cops had told her, she asked, “Do you remember anything after you got to the hospital? You were pretty out of it by the time I showed up.”
Dean was quiet for a moment, thinking. Did he remember anything that actually happened? He could’ve sworn he saw his da-- John in his hospital room. But it was just his mind playing tricks on him. John wouldn’t have cared one bit if he ended up in the hospital. If he brought it up to his mom, she would only worry, wondering why he was imagining the man. He cleared his throat and shook his head. "You and Bobby were there. I think I remember talking to Cas. Fuck, did I make a total fool out of myself?”
“No more than usual,” said Mary as she fussed with the bedcovers. “He was worried about you. He would probably appreciate it if you gave him a call as soon as you’re feeling up to it. Your friends too.”
There was something his mom wasn’t telling him. Normally she would be all over the place, making sure he was comfortable and had everything he needed. But now she was just sitting there, stroking the same spot over and over again, not looking him in the eyes. It put him on edge.
His mom had done everything in her power to protect him growing up, including keeping information about his father's family from him if she thought it would hurt him. Was that what was going on? Was she trying to spare his feelings by not telling him that, once again, his father and brother didn’t care that he was hurt? Or did she know who was behind the attack? Maybe… did Sam have something to do with it?
No. Dean wondered if the meds he was on were making him paranoid. Sam hated him but he wouldn’t-- Would he?
“Look honey, I know you don’t remember much but--” The rumbling of Dean’s stomach cut Mary off. “Oh! You must be starving!” Pushing up from the air mattress, she reached for her purse and dug through for her phone, handing it up to Dean. ”I will go make you something to eat and in the meantime, you should let your friends know you’re awake. Your phone got smashed yesterday, so you can use mine until I can get you a new one.” She smiled and kissed the top of his head before turning for the door. “I’ll be right back.”
- Supernatural -
“Mom, for the last time! Go to work. I’ll be fine, I promise,” said Dean as he attempted to eat the food in front of him. It was one of the few times his mom brought him breakfast in bed, even though it was nearing 2 o’clock. He’d just hung up the phone after talking to Cas and his friends when the smell from the kitchen hit him, making his mouth water. Mary had made him one of his favorite foods, chocolate chip pancakes, heavy on the syrup. It was almost good enough to make him forget about what Castiel had just told him. How the entire football team had been called into the principal office, his brother included. Cas hadn’t been able to get into much detail before having to go to class, but he promised to tell Dean all about it when he saw him later after school.
The cast on his arm made cutting the pancakes up one handed a lot harder than he anticipated, and the syrup certainly didn’t help. “Cas is coming here straight after school, so I won’t even be alone all that long.”
“Jody is taking care of the shop for me today.” Wincing at the scratching sound caused by Dean nearly sending his pancake flying off of his plate again, Mary reached over to cut up his food. “Ohh, don’t give me that look, Dean Winchester. I’m your mother, I’m allowed to fuss over you all I want.”
Dean had to admit that her cutting them made eating a lot easier. “Thanks, Mom,” he said in between bites.
“You’re welcome,” said Mary before taking a deep breath. “Dean, I’ve been wondering, has someone been harassing you at school? I know you and Sam haven’t been getting along, but is there anything else going on that you’re not telling me?”
“Nothing I can’t handle,” replied Dean, just barely sticking his fork into the next bite before his mom pulled the plate away and stood up.
With one hand on her hip, she dragged out his name as she made sure to hold the plate out of his reach.
“It’s just the same old crap I’ve been dealing with ever since John moved back to town,” said Dean, exasperated. He tried to cross his arms, the cast making it impossible, so he settled for giving his mom a hard stare.
With a deep sigh Mary put the plate back in front of him and sat down on the bed, making sure not to disturb Dean’s legs. “Do you hate it there? If you want, you can change schools or we could take your grandparent’s offer and move closer to them.”
“They live more than seven hours away and you have always hated it there, Mom,” Dean argued, placing his fork down on the side of his plate. This wasn’t the first time this had come up and Dean was sure it wouldn’t be the last. “Plus, your shop and all our friends are here. We can’t just leave.”
Mary pursed her lips for a moment, thinking. “What happened yesterday can’t happen again. If it does, we’re moving and I mean it,” his mom said. “I’ve already yelled at everyone at your school and threatened to sue their asses off if they don’t do something about what happened.”
His mom’s ringtone started ringing somewhere in the living room. “I’m willing to bet you that’s your grandmother calling. I’ll be right back,” his mom said as she got off the bed and slipped out of the room.
When he was sure his mom wasn’t anywhere near the room, Dean pushed the plate as far away as the tray allowed. A part of him just wanted to pack his bags and start a new life with his mom somewhere, as far away from anyone named Winchester… but it felt too much like he was letting John win. His mom shouldn’t have to give up her life just for him, she had given up enough already. No, their whole life was here! Their home, the café, his friends! Bobby, Ellen, Baby, Cas. He wasn’t about to give that up just because some guys at school were mean to him.
For Pete’s sake, he was Dean fucking Win -- Maybe he should just change his last name already. His mom had suggested it when he was younger and his grandparents made sure to bring it up every time he saw them. It wasn’t like Sam or John were quiet about how they felt about Dean using the name...
The only time he had ever truly considered it was when he was twelve. A well known food critic had been interested in writing an article about Mary’s café and the review would’ve done wonders for business. The day Mary received a copy of the article, she was ecstatic. The review was so overwhelmingly positive that there wasn’t a doubt in Mary’s mind that, with a little time, it would put her café on the map. His mom had been over the moon the whole week she waited for the article to be published, running around and ordering more ingredients, already making plans how to expand to make room for more customers. She spent more than she really could afford, but it was fine because it would pay off in the end. She would get more customers and she would finally be able to properly fix the car, without worrying if they had enough left to pay all the bills and have money left for food. She even entertained the idea of saving enough up to get Dean a new computer, a brand new one, a thanks for all of his help.
But it wasn’t fine. The article was never published.
In place of the café review, the paper printed a three paged article about John’s wife and her newly remodeled kitchen. It even included a half paged photo of the couple. Mary never got closure, reason, or even an excuse from the food critic as he purposefully ignored every attempt she’d made at contacting him.
Dean never found any proof that the Winchesters had something to do with the article not getting published, but it didn’t take a genius to put two and two together. They had taken away an amazing opportunity for his mom to get ahead, build them a better life, instead leaving Mary nearly drowning in debt. So, yeah, Dean considered changing his name if only to escape the shame of being associated with that family. He’d gone back and forth for weeks but finally was set in his resolve. Why should he have to change any part of who he was? It was what the Winchesters really wanted, after all. But it was his and they had no right to take that away from him. So screw them.
“Your grandparents are coming down here next weekend to see how you are,” his mom said as she came back and leaned against the doorframe. “They’re staying for about a month. So enjoy the time you have left while you still can.”
“A month? Great,” said Dean, sarcastically. “I hear Spain is great this time of year! And I think we’ve earned a relaxing trip somewhere, don’t you?”
Walking over, Mary ran a hand through his hair. “More than earned, but-” The ‘we can’t afford it’ went unsaid. “They’re not so bad that we have to leave the country. They mean well, at least.”
“You say that every time,” Dean sighed, leaning his head back into her hand. “and yet every time they leave, I get to hear about the million things they did to piss you off. I doubt they’ve changed.” His relationship with his grandparents was... stiff to say the least. The Campbells were old fashioned, hated how Mary had chosen to live her life, and used every opportunity to remind her of that. They would start with ‘how she had ruined her life by getting pregnant out of wedlock’ before transitioning to nagging about how she ‘still hadn’t found a good husband’. They’d nitpick the shop, pointing out how she should brighten things up by getting rid of all the ‘books and useless stuff’, demanding floral arrangements and plants and classical paintings that would never fit in with the aesthetic. Though, to be fair, it was Mary’s aesthetic that they hated… When Mary would be about to blow about their constant input about the cafe, they would switch it up, encouraging her to sell instead. Then she could settle down and get married! They even had the perfect bachelor picked out - rich, kidless, and living directly across from them.
“Maybe I could draw the attention away from you by telling them I’m gay?”
“I think you’ve dealt with enough hate for a while. That can wait until after Christmas,” said Mary, giving him a small smile. “Or at the very least, make sure Bobby brings his shotgun over before you do it.”
“Yeah, don’t worry, I wouldn’t want to rob you of your chance to get this years ultimate cleaning set.”“Oh, thank god,” his mom said, faking relief. “The five potential buyers I already have lined up would be so disappointed.” Picking up the tray in front of him she added, “You done?” Worry flashed in her eyes as she took in the leftovers on the plate. It wasn’t often that Dean didn’t clean the plate completely, especially when she made one of his favorites.
“Uh, yeah. Thanks, Mom, I just wasn’t that hungry, I guess.”
“If you say so,” Mary conceded, balancing the tray on her hip with one arm. “Why don’t you try to get some more rest.”
“No, I’m not tired. I think I’m just gonna try finding something to watch before Cas gets here,” Dean said as he pulled the comforter off him, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed.
“Do you need help moving to the sofa?” asked Mary, already getting ready to put the tray back on the bed.
“No, I got it.”
The next few hours were spent on the couch, watching some old reruns, as he waited for Castiel. Every now and then his phone would ping with new messages from his friends about what was going on in school, or in Ash's case, some random conspiracy theories he’d found. In the background, he listened to his mom run around the house to make it spotless, torn between grateful he didn’t have to clean and itching to get up and help her. Every little dust bunny had to go, though Dean had no doubt his grandmother would find the one that got away. He contemplated getting out of her way and going back to his room, but the short journey from his mom’s room to the living room had been exhausting. It wasn’t worth risking the stairs unless he had to. Besides, Castiel would be there soon.
- Supernatural -
“I can’t be your tutor anymore,” said Charlie as she walked through the doorway into Sam’s bedroom.
“What? Why not?” asked Sam as he looked up from his phone so he could look Charlie in the face. He knew why and both of them knew it. He’d been blowing up her phone ever since he got out of the principal’s office, trying to convince her that he had nothing to do with what happened to Dean. He all but begged her to still come over like they’d planned, letting him explain to her in person. She hadn’t answered any of his messages, leaving him on read.
“Well, first, because you never needed me in the first place!” said Charlie with a glare, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. “You're way too smart to need help, Sam. I’m not stupid. I think you only did this to get back at Dean.”
Ever since their confrontation in the cafeteria earlier that day she’d been wondering what to do. She liked Sam. In fact, he’d become one of her closest friends. But Dean was her best friend and he didn’t deserve what happened to him. Sam might be trying to lay off Dean, but his friends never would. And as long as Sam couldn’t see that? Then… then there was no hope for Sam.
“Charlie, I-”
“I don’t care!” she cut him off, practically hissing the words at him. “The thing is, even though you started this for all the wrong reasons, I really enjoyed hanging out with you, Sam. And I think you did too. I really was starting to believe you were different, so I don’t get how I was so stupid to-”
“I had nothing to do with what happened, I swear!” yelled Sam, getting off his bed to get closer to her. She immediately threw up a hand and he stopped, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “I’m not going to lie, I don’t like Dean, but I never wanted him to get injured. And ever since you and Dean got into that fight after the party? I’ve been trying to- to be nicer, for you and Cas.”
“I want to believe you, I do. But he’s my best friend. Hell, whether you like it or not, he’s your brother and your friends kidnapped him and beat him up! I can’t- I can’t look past that,” she said, tears swimming in her eyes. “Even though you didn’t do anything, you know what they did and you’re still friends with them. The only reason they treat him the way they do is because of you, and you know that. I don’t want someone like that around me. So until you and Dean bury whatever it is between you? Pretend you never even knew me.”
Storming away, Charlie didn’t know whether she should be glad or disappointed that Sam didn’t even try to stop or follow her. As she walked down the stairs, the person she least wanted to see rounded the corner to take the stairs. John Winchester did a double take as he noticed her, before shaking his head. He seemed troubled, not like the usually confident man she was used to seeing at school.
“Sam still upstairs?” John asked walking past her, not even stopping to get an answer. A moment later, she heard raised voices before a door slammed shut. A part of her wanted to know what was going on upstairs but she didn’t want to be caught eavesdropping. Making her way to the front door, she rounded the same corner John just had come from.
A half open door she’d never really paid attention to greeted her. She hesitated, peeking into what looked like an office. In all the time she had been to the Winchesters house, that door had been firmly shut. Looking behind her to make sure nobody could see her, Charlie pushed the door a little wider.
She knew without a doubt that it was John’s office. His certificates and awards proudly hung up in the middle of the wall. A tall oak bookcase was lined with books and photos of Sam, alone or with his dad. Come to think of it, it might be the first photos Charlie had ever seen of Sam in the house.
Sadly the computer was off, otherwise she would have risked it and looked at what John Winchester had hiding in there. It wouldn’t have taken her long, but she couldn’t turn it on and risk being caught in there. As she turned to leave, she noticed an old leather jacket had been flung over a chair shoved into the corner. Just barely noticeable was a book sticking out of the inside pocket.
- Supernatural -
True to his words, Castiel came straight after school and stayed until dark, when his step mom called him and told him to get home right away or there would be ‘hell to pay’. According to the text Casiel had gotten from Gabriel earlier that day, Naomi had been livid when the police contacted her and told her that Lucifer had been suspended from school for a week and that the police would be looking into his involvement in Dean's assault. In true Lucifer fashion, his step brother claimed to be blissfully innocent. Then he told their parents that they should ask Castiel what happened, he was Dean’s boyfriend after all.
After kissing Cas goodbye, Dean locked up the house and slowly made his way back to the living room to get his meds before heading up stairs. Due to not getting proper sleep last night, his mom had gone to bed early. She’d offered him her bed again, but Dean assured her he would manage to climb the stairs.
As he picked up his meds, the doorbell rang. Hoping the sound hadn’t woken up his mom, Dean called out, “I’m coming,” before walking back towards the front door.
“Couldn't stay away huh?” asked Dean as he opened the door to -- nothing. “Hello?” Flicking the flood light on, Dean poked his head out the door and looked around, unable to see anyone outside the house or in the driveway. Had they gone already? It hadn’t taken that long to answer the door... He was about to close the door when he noticed something lying on the front step.
As he bent to pick it up, he saw it was a brown leather journal with a sticky note on it. All the note said was DW, nothing else, not even who it was from. Even before Dean picked it up he could see that it was full of old newspapers clips, pictures, and pages that were covered in text.
Since someone had obviously not wanted him to know who left it for him, Dean decided not to open it until he was in his room. For all he knew it was some kind of prank. It wouldn’t be the first time.
The journey upstairs was slow and painful, but he made it, struggling to catch his breath on the top landing.
After taking his painkillers and then putting them on his desk, Dean got comfortable on his bed. Or as comfortable as he could in his state. He laid the journal on his lap and pulled the sticky note off. The first thing he saw were the initials HW on the cover. Who the fuck was HW? The second thing he saw was a photo of his mom and him in his nursery. He was pretty sure this was a copy of the one that his mom kept over the fireplace, the first photo ever taken of him. His uncle Bobby had always said how proud he was of how well that photo came out.
But… why was that photo in some guy's journal? To say that Dean was curious would be an understatement.
Before reading, Dean decided to try to find out how owned the journal and why that person would leave it for him. Dean quickly flipped through the journal but all it did was confuse him even more. Pictures or articles of him, his mom, and of Sam were all over the journal. Once in a while an article about John would even pop up. The news article of his mom’s café-shop opening, the article about him winning the sport-tournament in first grade, it was all there.
Deciding to start at the beginning Dean went back to the pages with the baby photo of his mom and him.
January 24th
A total stranger walked up to me today and started talking to me. Apparently it was visible to everybody that I am miserable and have problems. If only they knew. When I refused to tell her what was bothering me, she told me that writing my problems down sometimes helps. If writing everything down helps then it’s worth a shot. That is why I spent an hour looking for this stupid journal. For some reason this was the only place I could imagine writing my problems.
Now, my problems. Where do I start? I guess I can start with why today was horrible.
Bobby called this morning. Mary had the baby earlier this morning, after being in labor all night.
A strong beautiful little boy. How I wish I could have been there! Then Bobby sent me a picture of Mary with the baby. He reminds me so much of Mary! I almost got into my car and drove back just to hold him. Almost. Because of that stupid deal, I can’t go back. Besides... Kate’s five months pregnant. I always knew Mary would be a fantastic mother. She has always been strong and independent. Mary loves children and to her, family is everything. I can’t say the same for Kate. I have already abandoned one son, I can’t do it again. At least I abandoned the one who has the most amazing parent to take care of him.
January 26th
Bobby just texted me. Mary named the baby Dean. Dean Winchester. She probably named him in memory of his grandmother. Bobby says that Mary would most likely take me back if I came and begged for forgiveness. God, I want to!
Dean blinked hard, staring down at the page. If anything, it only made him more confused… It looked like… it couldn’t be. Whoever wrote this wanted it to look like John’s journal, but that didn’t make any sense. Whoever wrote this cared about Dean and his mom, so it couldn't be John!
But… what was this ‘deal’ about? Was there something else that had kept John away, other than him just being a shitty person?
Hoping that the next entire would give him answers and not just more questions, Dean continued reading.
May 3rd
Kate just gave birth to a healthy baby boy yesterday. The first time I got to hold him was incredible. It also made me realize how much I missed with Dean.
Kate wants to name the boy Samuel. Of all the names in the world, she had to choose that one. I tried to talk her out of it but she’s dead set on it. I can’t really tell her why I don’t want to name my son that. Everything remotely related to Mary sets her off, thank God she hasn’t found out about Dean yet.
I guess Sam is all right. I like Sam, or Sammy, but I’m NEVER calling my son Samuel. She can just forget it.
January 24th
I went back home today. It’s Dean’s birthday. He’s already 1-years-old and I have never seen him, except the pictures Bobby sends me once in a while. I think he’s trying to get me to swallow my pride and come back. He has no idea how many times he almost succeeded.
I knew Mary would take him to the playground after work, so I went and parked my car where she wouldn’t see me. She used to say how she loved going there and watching the families play together. I had been waiting an hour when she finally got there with Dean. Soon after, Bobby and Ellen showed up. Ellen apparently has a kid now. One that looks a little bit younger than Sam. I think it’s a girl but I didn’t want to risk being seen so I couldn’t really check.
Dean is a lot more active than Sam is. He could hardly wait for Mary to let him out of the stroller before he was running off. Sam has just started standing up by himself and Dean is already running.
I could see that my boy was going to grow up a charmer. He would go around, picking up flowers before giving them to the others. He even tried to give Ellen's baby his birthday cake before Mary stopped him.
Watching him and Mary was the most entertainment I’ve had in more than a year. You could see it for miles that Dean was Mary's pride and joy. Which is more than I can say for Kate and Sam... I know Kate loves Sam, but he’s not her number one priority. Hell, a few days after we brought Sam home she found a babysitter because she wanted to go on a shoe-sale or something.
I was this close to getting out of the car and begging Mary to let me see Dean when HE showed up. Maybe it was just my imagination, but I could have sworn he looked right at me when he went and hugged Mary.
Why did all of them get to be in my family lives and I have to sit on the sidelines?
I couldn’t take it anymore so I put my car in drive and went to pick up Sam.
The next few pages were just old articles or photos; an article about John, an ex-marine, opening his own car dealership and photos of Sam's birthday parties. Dean really liked the photos from Sam's fourth birthday, the one with the circus theme. Sammy looked terrified of the clowns.
John had written a note or two on some of the pages. On a small newspaper article about Mary’s coffee-shop opening he wrote, “Doing what she always wanted.” From the pictures, Dean figured that John didn’t write any more entries for a few years. He also noticed that Sam's mom wasn’t in any of the photos.
After looking through all the photos, he got to the next entry.
SAMMY FOUND MY JOURNAL!!!
Kate has been on a trip this week and I got careless and left it in the open. Besides, I didn’t think Sam was old enough to read it yet. How wrong was I? Now all Sam talks about is his big brother.
Why isn’t Dean living with us, Daddy?
Me and Dean are going to best friends!
Why does Dean have another mommy, Daddy?
When do I get to meet Dean, Daddy?
When I meet Dean we can play Batman and Superman!
How am I supposed to get Sam to stop talking about Dean before Kate comes home tomorrow? Kate knows that I have another kid, I told her at the bar when we first met. But I haven't bought it up since I found out she was pregnant with Sam. Hell, if I so much as bring up something that happened before I met her she gets pissed. If she finds out that I have been keeping track of them, she will blow up.
Now I don’t have time to write anymore, I need to go buy all of Sam's favorite things if I’m going to have any luck getting him to keep quiet.
Kate came home today. Sam kept quiet for an hour. An hour! I talked to him for hours last night about Dean being our secret and he promised not to say anything. Then when we were just sitting down to eat dinner he said, “Mommy, can Dean come live with us?”
Of course Kate had no idea who Dean was. I tried to tell her that Dean was some kid Sammy just met but of course Sam has to go, “No, Daddy, Dean’s my big brother, remember?”
Sammy got sent to bed early. Kate and I were up all night fighting. I will probably be sleeping in the guest room or on the couch this month. If we had a dog, he would get the guest room and I would get the dog house.
Shutting the book, Dean didn’t know what to think. Was this real? If it wasn’t...somebody had put a lot of effort into making it. But who would do that? And why? His stomach twisted with conflicting emotions, ones he didn’t want to put a name to. Hope. Fear. Happiness. Anger. He focused on the last one. This didn’t change anything! Sam still hated him and John was still a dick. No matter what the journal said, that wouldn’t change.
Pulling the drawer on his bedside table open, he threw the journal in and slammed it back.
Fandom: Supernatural
Summary: AU: John left when Mary got pregnant with Dean. Few years later he came back with a new family. Now, almost 17 years later, Sam and Dean learn what it means to be brothers.
Beta’d by: Lotrspnfangirl and Renversermonmonde (Trickstermoose67 on tumblr)
Chapter 14
The first thing Dean saw as the morning sun woke him up was a 5x8 printed photo, the edges slightly worn and the tape against the wall yellowed. In it, he couldn’t be more than seven years old. His clothes were dirty, jeans ripped around a big red bruise on his knee, and he had a missing front tooth, leaving a big hole in his smile. His smile, however, reached from ear to ear as he held up a gold medal towards the camera, a football under his other arm.
He remembered when the photo was taken, right after he had won his first and only football match. He had scored the winning goal for his team at the very last minute. He remembered running to his mom after having been handed his medal, wanting nothing more than to show it to her.
He’d been so happy when the photo was taken, he hadn’t noticed until afterwards that all of his teammates were celebrating with their dads. Some of their mothers were there too, taking pictures as the dads hoisted their sons up on their shoulders or clapped them on the shoulder with a proud smile, but it was the dads that were laughing and shouting, “Did you see how my son tackled that ball from the other team? Just like his old man.”
A few of the dads suggested celebrating by going out for pizza, their treat and everything. All of the other boys had jumped at the chance, but Dean hadn’t felt like celebrating anymore. Even though his mom kept pressuring him to join his team, he opted out, wanting to go home with her instead.
Later that evening, Bobby, who had been working the whole day, showed up and placed a cap with # 1 on the front panel, on Dean’s head and demanded to see the tape of today’s match.
The next hour and half was spent watching Bobby rewinding and shouting at the TV. When Dean scored the final goal, he had jumped up from the couch and in all the commotion, emptied his beer glass all over Dean and Mary.
Dean remembered laughing so hard that tears streamed down his cheeks, as his mom called Bobby a ‘sport crazy idiot’ with a laugh.
After everyone had changed into dry clothes, Bobby took them out to eat. He bought Dean the biggest slice of pie available for desert, asking Dean to tell him every play, even though he’d seen it. Dean did so happily, recalling the entire game for Bobby, everything that happened in the match right up till his mom sent him to bed.
The wall in front of him was littered with photos of him growing up. He was alone in most of them, but a few had him with his mom, Bobby, or friends. He let his eyes scan from the football game photo to the next, a picture taken the same day with him sound asleep and wearing the cap Bobby had gotten him. He’d long outgrown it, but it was still hanging up in his room.
Speaking of his room… Dean blinked, confused as he looked around. Why wasn’t he in there? He had a moment of panic before he recognized his mom’s room and the answer came as soon as he tried to sit up.
Pain shot up his arm as soon as he had put little pressure on it and he looked down to see he’d been done up in a cast. He recalled being discharged early in the morning but he could hardly remember the trip home, just that Bobby and Ellen had showed up together to drive them. His mom had climbed into the backseat with him, supporting him during the ride and walking inside their house. Apparently they hadn’t made it all the way upstairs to his room.
On the bedside table next to him was a glass of water, a bottle of painkillers, and a note in his mother’s handwriting saying, “Shout, when you wake up!”
His throat was still sore, so he knew he wouldn’t be shouting any time soon, but he also knew his mom was close enough to hear him nonetheless. “Mom,” he said in a raspy voice.
“Morning sweetheart!” came his mother’s voice right below him. “How are you feeling?”
Looking over the edge of the bed, Dean saw his mother curled up on an air mattress. She didn’t look like she’d gotten a wink of sleep. Ignoring his mom’s question, he asked, “Why are you on the floor? There’s plenty of space on the bed.”
“I didn’t want to accidentally hurt you in my sleep,” said his mom through a groan as she stretched her back.
Lifting an eyebrow, Dean said, “You sleep like the dead. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve poked you just to see if you’re alive.”
“And here I was trying to be considerate. Not all of us sleep like the dead you know,” Mary said with a sigh, “I still have nightmares from when you used to sleep in my bed.”
“Haha,” Dean quipped, rolling his eyes. “I would kick you if I could.”
“Mmhmm, is that any way to talk to your mother?” said Mary with a chuckle. Dean gave her a sheepish smile in response. “Now, how do you feel? And no ‘I’m fine’ bullshit, Dean Winchester.”
“My head and arm hurt a little,” Dean answered honestly, squirming a little bit against the mattress to take stock of how he felt. “But its nothing some painkillers won’t take care of,” said Dean eyeing the medicine bottle.
His mom watched him with thoughtful eyes as she reached for the pills and water. “Take this but if the pain gets any worse, you need to let me know,” she said holding out the two painkillers for him. “I mean it, Dean.”
“I will.” His mom had a right to be worried, he didn’t have the best track record of letting her know when he was hurting; he hated worrying her and would rather downplay it for as long as he could. Plus, he didn’t like going to the doctors. “I will. I promise,” he added after seeing the unconvinced look on his mom’s face.
His mom was quiet for a while, looking at the cast on his arm. “Want to talk about what happened?” she asked eventually.
“No, not really,” Dean answered looking up at the ceiling. It was the safest place to look. There were no photos of smiling people or worried mothers there. “I don’t really remember it. I just remember someone jumping me on my way home and being driven somewhere. And- it gets a little foggy after that,” Dean said with a far away look in his eyes, before it was overtaken with confusion. “Was Cas there?”
“He and his brother found you and brought you to the hospital,” explained Mary. After telling him everything the doctors and cops had told her, she asked, “Do you remember anything after you got to the hospital? You were pretty out of it by the time I showed up.”
Dean was quiet for a moment, thinking. Did he remember anything that actually happened? He could’ve sworn he saw his da-- John in his hospital room. But it was just his mind playing tricks on him. John wouldn’t have cared one bit if he ended up in the hospital. If he brought it up to his mom, she would only worry, wondering why he was imagining the man. He cleared his throat and shook his head. "You and Bobby were there. I think I remember talking to Cas. Fuck, did I make a total fool out of myself?”
“No more than usual,” said Mary as she fussed with the bedcovers. “He was worried about you. He would probably appreciate it if you gave him a call as soon as you’re feeling up to it. Your friends too.”
There was something his mom wasn’t telling him. Normally she would be all over the place, making sure he was comfortable and had everything he needed. But now she was just sitting there, stroking the same spot over and over again, not looking him in the eyes. It put him on edge.
His mom had done everything in her power to protect him growing up, including keeping information about his father's family from him if she thought it would hurt him. Was that what was going on? Was she trying to spare his feelings by not telling him that, once again, his father and brother didn’t care that he was hurt? Or did she know who was behind the attack? Maybe… did Sam have something to do with it?
No. Dean wondered if the meds he was on were making him paranoid. Sam hated him but he wouldn’t-- Would he?
“Look honey, I know you don’t remember much but--” The rumbling of Dean’s stomach cut Mary off. “Oh! You must be starving!” Pushing up from the air mattress, she reached for her purse and dug through for her phone, handing it up to Dean. ”I will go make you something to eat and in the meantime, you should let your friends know you’re awake. Your phone got smashed yesterday, so you can use mine until I can get you a new one.” She smiled and kissed the top of his head before turning for the door. “I’ll be right back.”
- Supernatural -
“Mom, for the last time! Go to work. I’ll be fine, I promise,” said Dean as he attempted to eat the food in front of him. It was one of the few times his mom brought him breakfast in bed, even though it was nearing 2 o’clock. He’d just hung up the phone after talking to Cas and his friends when the smell from the kitchen hit him, making his mouth water. Mary had made him one of his favorite foods, chocolate chip pancakes, heavy on the syrup. It was almost good enough to make him forget about what Castiel had just told him. How the entire football team had been called into the principal office, his brother included. Cas hadn’t been able to get into much detail before having to go to class, but he promised to tell Dean all about it when he saw him later after school.
The cast on his arm made cutting the pancakes up one handed a lot harder than he anticipated, and the syrup certainly didn’t help. “Cas is coming here straight after school, so I won’t even be alone all that long.”
“Jody is taking care of the shop for me today.” Wincing at the scratching sound caused by Dean nearly sending his pancake flying off of his plate again, Mary reached over to cut up his food. “Ohh, don’t give me that look, Dean Winchester. I’m your mother, I’m allowed to fuss over you all I want.”
Dean had to admit that her cutting them made eating a lot easier. “Thanks, Mom,” he said in between bites.
“You’re welcome,” said Mary before taking a deep breath. “Dean, I’ve been wondering, has someone been harassing you at school? I know you and Sam haven’t been getting along, but is there anything else going on that you’re not telling me?”
“Nothing I can’t handle,” replied Dean, just barely sticking his fork into the next bite before his mom pulled the plate away and stood up.
With one hand on her hip, she dragged out his name as she made sure to hold the plate out of his reach.
“It’s just the same old crap I’ve been dealing with ever since John moved back to town,” said Dean, exasperated. He tried to cross his arms, the cast making it impossible, so he settled for giving his mom a hard stare.
With a deep sigh Mary put the plate back in front of him and sat down on the bed, making sure not to disturb Dean’s legs. “Do you hate it there? If you want, you can change schools or we could take your grandparent’s offer and move closer to them.”
“They live more than seven hours away and you have always hated it there, Mom,” Dean argued, placing his fork down on the side of his plate. This wasn’t the first time this had come up and Dean was sure it wouldn’t be the last. “Plus, your shop and all our friends are here. We can’t just leave.”
Mary pursed her lips for a moment, thinking. “What happened yesterday can’t happen again. If it does, we’re moving and I mean it,” his mom said. “I’ve already yelled at everyone at your school and threatened to sue their asses off if they don’t do something about what happened.”
His mom’s ringtone started ringing somewhere in the living room. “I’m willing to bet you that’s your grandmother calling. I’ll be right back,” his mom said as she got off the bed and slipped out of the room.
When he was sure his mom wasn’t anywhere near the room, Dean pushed the plate as far away as the tray allowed. A part of him just wanted to pack his bags and start a new life with his mom somewhere, as far away from anyone named Winchester… but it felt too much like he was letting John win. His mom shouldn’t have to give up her life just for him, she had given up enough already. No, their whole life was here! Their home, the café, his friends! Bobby, Ellen, Baby, Cas. He wasn’t about to give that up just because some guys at school were mean to him.
For Pete’s sake, he was Dean fucking Win -- Maybe he should just change his last name already. His mom had suggested it when he was younger and his grandparents made sure to bring it up every time he saw them. It wasn’t like Sam or John were quiet about how they felt about Dean using the name...
The only time he had ever truly considered it was when he was twelve. A well known food critic had been interested in writing an article about Mary’s café and the review would’ve done wonders for business. The day Mary received a copy of the article, she was ecstatic. The review was so overwhelmingly positive that there wasn’t a doubt in Mary’s mind that, with a little time, it would put her café on the map. His mom had been over the moon the whole week she waited for the article to be published, running around and ordering more ingredients, already making plans how to expand to make room for more customers. She spent more than she really could afford, but it was fine because it would pay off in the end. She would get more customers and she would finally be able to properly fix the car, without worrying if they had enough left to pay all the bills and have money left for food. She even entertained the idea of saving enough up to get Dean a new computer, a brand new one, a thanks for all of his help.
But it wasn’t fine. The article was never published.
In place of the café review, the paper printed a three paged article about John’s wife and her newly remodeled kitchen. It even included a half paged photo of the couple. Mary never got closure, reason, or even an excuse from the food critic as he purposefully ignored every attempt she’d made at contacting him.
Dean never found any proof that the Winchesters had something to do with the article not getting published, but it didn’t take a genius to put two and two together. They had taken away an amazing opportunity for his mom to get ahead, build them a better life, instead leaving Mary nearly drowning in debt. So, yeah, Dean considered changing his name if only to escape the shame of being associated with that family. He’d gone back and forth for weeks but finally was set in his resolve. Why should he have to change any part of who he was? It was what the Winchesters really wanted, after all. But it was his and they had no right to take that away from him. So screw them.
“Your grandparents are coming down here next weekend to see how you are,” his mom said as she came back and leaned against the doorframe. “They’re staying for about a month. So enjoy the time you have left while you still can.”
“A month? Great,” said Dean, sarcastically. “I hear Spain is great this time of year! And I think we’ve earned a relaxing trip somewhere, don’t you?”
Walking over, Mary ran a hand through his hair. “More than earned, but-” The ‘we can’t afford it’ went unsaid. “They’re not so bad that we have to leave the country. They mean well, at least.”
“You say that every time,” Dean sighed, leaning his head back into her hand. “and yet every time they leave, I get to hear about the million things they did to piss you off. I doubt they’ve changed.” His relationship with his grandparents was... stiff to say the least. The Campbells were old fashioned, hated how Mary had chosen to live her life, and used every opportunity to remind her of that. They would start with ‘how she had ruined her life by getting pregnant out of wedlock’ before transitioning to nagging about how she ‘still hadn’t found a good husband’. They’d nitpick the shop, pointing out how she should brighten things up by getting rid of all the ‘books and useless stuff’, demanding floral arrangements and plants and classical paintings that would never fit in with the aesthetic. Though, to be fair, it was Mary’s aesthetic that they hated… When Mary would be about to blow about their constant input about the cafe, they would switch it up, encouraging her to sell instead. Then she could settle down and get married! They even had the perfect bachelor picked out - rich, kidless, and living directly across from them.
“Maybe I could draw the attention away from you by telling them I’m gay?”
“I think you’ve dealt with enough hate for a while. That can wait until after Christmas,” said Mary, giving him a small smile. “Or at the very least, make sure Bobby brings his shotgun over before you do it.”
“Yeah, don’t worry, I wouldn’t want to rob you of your chance to get this years ultimate cleaning set.”“Oh, thank god,” his mom said, faking relief. “The five potential buyers I already have lined up would be so disappointed.” Picking up the tray in front of him she added, “You done?” Worry flashed in her eyes as she took in the leftovers on the plate. It wasn’t often that Dean didn’t clean the plate completely, especially when she made one of his favorites.
“Uh, yeah. Thanks, Mom, I just wasn’t that hungry, I guess.”
“If you say so,” Mary conceded, balancing the tray on her hip with one arm. “Why don’t you try to get some more rest.”
“No, I’m not tired. I think I’m just gonna try finding something to watch before Cas gets here,” Dean said as he pulled the comforter off him, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed.
“Do you need help moving to the sofa?” asked Mary, already getting ready to put the tray back on the bed.
“No, I got it.”
The next few hours were spent on the couch, watching some old reruns, as he waited for Castiel. Every now and then his phone would ping with new messages from his friends about what was going on in school, or in Ash's case, some random conspiracy theories he’d found. In the background, he listened to his mom run around the house to make it spotless, torn between grateful he didn’t have to clean and itching to get up and help her. Every little dust bunny had to go, though Dean had no doubt his grandmother would find the one that got away. He contemplated getting out of her way and going back to his room, but the short journey from his mom’s room to the living room had been exhausting. It wasn’t worth risking the stairs unless he had to. Besides, Castiel would be there soon.
- Supernatural -
“I can’t be your tutor anymore,” said Charlie as she walked through the doorway into Sam’s bedroom.
“What? Why not?” asked Sam as he looked up from his phone so he could look Charlie in the face. He knew why and both of them knew it. He’d been blowing up her phone ever since he got out of the principal’s office, trying to convince her that he had nothing to do with what happened to Dean. He all but begged her to still come over like they’d planned, letting him explain to her in person. She hadn’t answered any of his messages, leaving him on read.
“Well, first, because you never needed me in the first place!” said Charlie with a glare, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. “You're way too smart to need help, Sam. I’m not stupid. I think you only did this to get back at Dean.”
Ever since their confrontation in the cafeteria earlier that day she’d been wondering what to do. She liked Sam. In fact, he’d become one of her closest friends. But Dean was her best friend and he didn’t deserve what happened to him. Sam might be trying to lay off Dean, but his friends never would. And as long as Sam couldn’t see that? Then… then there was no hope for Sam.
“Charlie, I-”
“I don’t care!” she cut him off, practically hissing the words at him. “The thing is, even though you started this for all the wrong reasons, I really enjoyed hanging out with you, Sam. And I think you did too. I really was starting to believe you were different, so I don’t get how I was so stupid to-”
“I had nothing to do with what happened, I swear!” yelled Sam, getting off his bed to get closer to her. She immediately threw up a hand and he stopped, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “I’m not going to lie, I don’t like Dean, but I never wanted him to get injured. And ever since you and Dean got into that fight after the party? I’ve been trying to- to be nicer, for you and Cas.”
“I want to believe you, I do. But he’s my best friend. Hell, whether you like it or not, he’s your brother and your friends kidnapped him and beat him up! I can’t- I can’t look past that,” she said, tears swimming in her eyes. “Even though you didn’t do anything, you know what they did and you’re still friends with them. The only reason they treat him the way they do is because of you, and you know that. I don’t want someone like that around me. So until you and Dean bury whatever it is between you? Pretend you never even knew me.”
Storming away, Charlie didn’t know whether she should be glad or disappointed that Sam didn’t even try to stop or follow her. As she walked down the stairs, the person she least wanted to see rounded the corner to take the stairs. John Winchester did a double take as he noticed her, before shaking his head. He seemed troubled, not like the usually confident man she was used to seeing at school.
“Sam still upstairs?” John asked walking past her, not even stopping to get an answer. A moment later, she heard raised voices before a door slammed shut. A part of her wanted to know what was going on upstairs but she didn’t want to be caught eavesdropping. Making her way to the front door, she rounded the same corner John just had come from.
A half open door she’d never really paid attention to greeted her. She hesitated, peeking into what looked like an office. In all the time she had been to the Winchesters house, that door had been firmly shut. Looking behind her to make sure nobody could see her, Charlie pushed the door a little wider.
She knew without a doubt that it was John’s office. His certificates and awards proudly hung up in the middle of the wall. A tall oak bookcase was lined with books and photos of Sam, alone or with his dad. Come to think of it, it might be the first photos Charlie had ever seen of Sam in the house.
Sadly the computer was off, otherwise she would have risked it and looked at what John Winchester had hiding in there. It wouldn’t have taken her long, but she couldn’t turn it on and risk being caught in there. As she turned to leave, she noticed an old leather jacket had been flung over a chair shoved into the corner. Just barely noticeable was a book sticking out of the inside pocket.
- Supernatural -
True to his words, Castiel came straight after school and stayed until dark, when his step mom called him and told him to get home right away or there would be ‘hell to pay’. According to the text Casiel had gotten from Gabriel earlier that day, Naomi had been livid when the police contacted her and told her that Lucifer had been suspended from school for a week and that the police would be looking into his involvement in Dean's assault. In true Lucifer fashion, his step brother claimed to be blissfully innocent. Then he told their parents that they should ask Castiel what happened, he was Dean’s boyfriend after all.
After kissing Cas goodbye, Dean locked up the house and slowly made his way back to the living room to get his meds before heading up stairs. Due to not getting proper sleep last night, his mom had gone to bed early. She’d offered him her bed again, but Dean assured her he would manage to climb the stairs.
As he picked up his meds, the doorbell rang. Hoping the sound hadn’t woken up his mom, Dean called out, “I’m coming,” before walking back towards the front door.
“Couldn't stay away huh?” asked Dean as he opened the door to -- nothing. “Hello?” Flicking the flood light on, Dean poked his head out the door and looked around, unable to see anyone outside the house or in the driveway. Had they gone already? It hadn’t taken that long to answer the door... He was about to close the door when he noticed something lying on the front step.
As he bent to pick it up, he saw it was a brown leather journal with a sticky note on it. All the note said was DW, nothing else, not even who it was from. Even before Dean picked it up he could see that it was full of old newspapers clips, pictures, and pages that were covered in text.
Since someone had obviously not wanted him to know who left it for him, Dean decided not to open it until he was in his room. For all he knew it was some kind of prank. It wouldn’t be the first time.
The journey upstairs was slow and painful, but he made it, struggling to catch his breath on the top landing.
After taking his painkillers and then putting them on his desk, Dean got comfortable on his bed. Or as comfortable as he could in his state. He laid the journal on his lap and pulled the sticky note off. The first thing he saw were the initials HW on the cover. Who the fuck was HW? The second thing he saw was a photo of his mom and him in his nursery. He was pretty sure this was a copy of the one that his mom kept over the fireplace, the first photo ever taken of him. His uncle Bobby had always said how proud he was of how well that photo came out.
But… why was that photo in some guy's journal? To say that Dean was curious would be an understatement.
Before reading, Dean decided to try to find out how owned the journal and why that person would leave it for him. Dean quickly flipped through the journal but all it did was confuse him even more. Pictures or articles of him, his mom, and of Sam were all over the journal. Once in a while an article about John would even pop up. The news article of his mom’s café-shop opening, the article about him winning the sport-tournament in first grade, it was all there.
Deciding to start at the beginning Dean went back to the pages with the baby photo of his mom and him.
January 24th
A total stranger walked up to me today and started talking to me. Apparently it was visible to everybody that I am miserable and have problems. If only they knew. When I refused to tell her what was bothering me, she told me that writing my problems down sometimes helps. If writing everything down helps then it’s worth a shot. That is why I spent an hour looking for this stupid journal. For some reason this was the only place I could imagine writing my problems.
Now, my problems. Where do I start? I guess I can start with why today was horrible.
Bobby called this morning. Mary had the baby earlier this morning, after being in labor all night.
A strong beautiful little boy. How I wish I could have been there! Then Bobby sent me a picture of Mary with the baby. He reminds me so much of Mary! I almost got into my car and drove back just to hold him. Almost. Because of that stupid deal, I can’t go back. Besides... Kate’s five months pregnant. I always knew Mary would be a fantastic mother. She has always been strong and independent. Mary loves children and to her, family is everything. I can’t say the same for Kate. I have already abandoned one son, I can’t do it again. At least I abandoned the one who has the most amazing parent to take care of him.
January 26th
Bobby just texted me. Mary named the baby Dean. Dean Winchester. She probably named him in memory of his grandmother. Bobby says that Mary would most likely take me back if I came and begged for forgiveness. God, I want to!
Dean blinked hard, staring down at the page. If anything, it only made him more confused… It looked like… it couldn’t be. Whoever wrote this wanted it to look like John’s journal, but that didn’t make any sense. Whoever wrote this cared about Dean and his mom, so it couldn't be John!
But… what was this ‘deal’ about? Was there something else that had kept John away, other than him just being a shitty person?
Hoping that the next entire would give him answers and not just more questions, Dean continued reading.
May 3rd
Kate just gave birth to a healthy baby boy yesterday. The first time I got to hold him was incredible. It also made me realize how much I missed with Dean.
Kate wants to name the boy Samuel. Of all the names in the world, she had to choose that one. I tried to talk her out of it but she’s dead set on it. I can’t really tell her why I don’t want to name my son that. Everything remotely related to Mary sets her off, thank God she hasn’t found out about Dean yet.
I guess Sam is all right. I like Sam, or Sammy, but I’m NEVER calling my son Samuel. She can just forget it.
January 24th
I went back home today. It’s Dean’s birthday. He’s already 1-years-old and I have never seen him, except the pictures Bobby sends me once in a while. I think he’s trying to get me to swallow my pride and come back. He has no idea how many times he almost succeeded.
I knew Mary would take him to the playground after work, so I went and parked my car where she wouldn’t see me. She used to say how she loved going there and watching the families play together. I had been waiting an hour when she finally got there with Dean. Soon after, Bobby and Ellen showed up. Ellen apparently has a kid now. One that looks a little bit younger than Sam. I think it’s a girl but I didn’t want to risk being seen so I couldn’t really check.
Dean is a lot more active than Sam is. He could hardly wait for Mary to let him out of the stroller before he was running off. Sam has just started standing up by himself and Dean is already running.
I could see that my boy was going to grow up a charmer. He would go around, picking up flowers before giving them to the others. He even tried to give Ellen's baby his birthday cake before Mary stopped him.
Watching him and Mary was the most entertainment I’ve had in more than a year. You could see it for miles that Dean was Mary's pride and joy. Which is more than I can say for Kate and Sam... I know Kate loves Sam, but he’s not her number one priority. Hell, a few days after we brought Sam home she found a babysitter because she wanted to go on a shoe-sale or something.
I was this close to getting out of the car and begging Mary to let me see Dean when HE showed up. Maybe it was just my imagination, but I could have sworn he looked right at me when he went and hugged Mary.
Why did all of them get to be in my family lives and I have to sit on the sidelines?
I couldn’t take it anymore so I put my car in drive and went to pick up Sam.
The next few pages were just old articles or photos; an article about John, an ex-marine, opening his own car dealership and photos of Sam's birthday parties. Dean really liked the photos from Sam's fourth birthday, the one with the circus theme. Sammy looked terrified of the clowns.
John had written a note or two on some of the pages. On a small newspaper article about Mary’s coffee-shop opening he wrote, “Doing what she always wanted.” From the pictures, Dean figured that John didn’t write any more entries for a few years. He also noticed that Sam's mom wasn’t in any of the photos.
After looking through all the photos, he got to the next entry.
SAMMY FOUND MY JOURNAL!!!
Kate has been on a trip this week and I got careless and left it in the open. Besides, I didn’t think Sam was old enough to read it yet. How wrong was I? Now all Sam talks about is his big brother.
Why isn’t Dean living with us, Daddy?
Me and Dean are going to best friends!
Why does Dean have another mommy, Daddy?
When do I get to meet Dean, Daddy?
When I meet Dean we can play Batman and Superman!
How am I supposed to get Sam to stop talking about Dean before Kate comes home tomorrow? Kate knows that I have another kid, I told her at the bar when we first met. But I haven't bought it up since I found out she was pregnant with Sam. Hell, if I so much as bring up something that happened before I met her she gets pissed. If she finds out that I have been keeping track of them, she will blow up.
Now I don’t have time to write anymore, I need to go buy all of Sam's favorite things if I’m going to have any luck getting him to keep quiet.
Kate came home today. Sam kept quiet for an hour. An hour! I talked to him for hours last night about Dean being our secret and he promised not to say anything. Then when we were just sitting down to eat dinner he said, “Mommy, can Dean come live with us?”
Of course Kate had no idea who Dean was. I tried to tell her that Dean was some kid Sammy just met but of course Sam has to go, “No, Daddy, Dean’s my big brother, remember?”
Sammy got sent to bed early. Kate and I were up all night fighting. I will probably be sleeping in the guest room or on the couch this month. If we had a dog, he would get the guest room and I would get the dog house.
Shutting the book, Dean didn’t know what to think. Was this real? If it wasn’t...somebody had put a lot of effort into making it. But who would do that? And why? His stomach twisted with conflicting emotions, ones he didn’t want to put a name to. Hope. Fear. Happiness. Anger. He focused on the last one. This didn’t change anything! Sam still hated him and John was still a dick. No matter what the journal said, that wouldn’t change.
Pulling the drawer on his bedside table open, he threw the journal in and slammed it back.