Fic: The Dins of the Fathers, Chapter 4
The Dins of the Fathers, Chapter 4: Crazy, axe wielding neighbors and no beer make John a cranky Winchester. But what's this? Mary's back and baking pie? Oh my!
Disclaimer: I didn't create these chracters.
Chapter 4-
John stood gaping at the insane visage pressed against the splintered wood of the front door.
"Damnation, Torrance!" Dr. Jones shouted at his visitor, "Can't you ever just knock!"
The obviously unbalanced man reached through the hole he had just made and turned the door knob to let himself in.
"I need more paper, Jones!" Torrance demanded, "The novel's really coming along now!"
"Fine. Have all you want if it'll keep you occupied and off my property!" Dr. Jones huffed, "Excuse me, John. I'll be back momentarily."
He walked off towards the back of the cottage leaving his guests to stare at one another in awkward silence. Torrance twitched uncomfortably under John's scrutinizing glare, running his free hand through his oil slicked hair as he absently twirled his axe in the other. He held a large stack of stained and crumpled manuscript pages under his arm that he squeezed tightly to his chest as he studied John with paranoid intensity.
It was John who finally broke the tension.
"I'm John Winchester," he said, warily extending his hand.
"Jack Torrance," the man said, pressing his sweaty palm into the offered hand.
His beetle-like eyebrows furrowed suddenly.
"Wait a minute…" he muttered, "Winchester? The John Winchester? Hunter of demons, spirits and things that go 'bump' in the night?"
"That's me," said John, "Or was me…"
"Well, let me ask you this, pal!" Torrance snapped, "Would it have been too much trouble for you and your boys to de-ghost the Overlook Hotel before it had to go and ruin my life? I swear… I just get a little tense one night and go on a teensy weensy murderous rampage against my wife and son and BOOM! Next thing ya know, I'm down here in Swampville living in an igloo made entirely out of dung!"
John gritted his teeth, taking his hand back and wiping it off on the back of his jeans.
"Just take your paper and go," Jones returned shoving a ream into Torrance's hands.
"Thanks buddy!"
Torrance ogled the blank pages before turning to back to John with an inspired grin.
"You can be my Beta!" he announced, dumping his completed manuscript into John's arms.
He then spun on his heel, heaved his axe and chopped down the rest of the door to make his exit. John watched him scamper away down the muddied path before turning his attention to the pages in his hands. The "novel" consisted of nothing but the words: "Alcohol, anger and axe wielding make Jack a bad dad!" repeated over and over again.
He chucked the manuscript in a nearby waste basket then bent down to gather up the broken pieces of Dr. Jones's door.
"Oh, just leave it," the Professor uttered, "Powers that Be willing, it'll be replaced tomorrow… for Mr. Torrance to break down again. Lousy, lousy neighborhood! Ah, if only…"
John stood by silently as the older man bowed his head and pursed his lips with self-rebuke.
"It really wouldn't have taken that much," Dr. Jones sighed, "A father/son picnic here, a game of catch there. If I'd just once said: 'I'm proud of you, son! Nice job dodging that boulder!' things would have been better. I might have even earned a nice two-story in the Suburbs. Just to wake up to the sight of green grass and the scent of fresh flowers. It would be so nice…"
The Professor chuckled sheepishly.
"And on that overwrought note I think I shall turn in for the night."
"Oh…" John began, his eyes trailing to the splintered wood and muddy foot prints scattered about the floor, "Are you sure you don't want help cleaning this mess up? I don't mind…"
He was stalling and they both knew it. He liked Dr. Jones and didn't want the man to think of him as one of the local moochers. But he also did not want to go back to that cramped malodorous trailer he now called home.
"Look, I really don't want to impose on you," he swallowed his pride, "But could I sleep on your couch? Just for one night?"
"You may," Dr. Jones said to his relief, "However I must warn you the Powers that Be are very strict in their living assignments. You're welcome to go to sleep on my sofa any night you wish. But when you wake up in the morning you'll find yourself exactly where they think you deserve to be. Goodnight, Mr. Winchester."
"Goodnight Dr. Jones."
He waited until the older man had retired to his bedroom before sitting down and wringing his hands through his hair. How could this be happening to him? After everything he had gone through, how could it all boil down to this?
He picked up the newspaper and ran his hand over the article about his sons as if doing so could somehow reconnect him to Sam and Dean. He missed them so much.
He glanced over at some of the articles about other people's children.
The yahoos over at Eternal Estates, their kids had it so good. They were living perfect, happy little lives even as his boys were facing killer clowns, pissed off Harvelle women and the ever encroaching menace of the Yellow Eyed Demon and his mysterious plan. But then, as far as he could tell, their kids had always had it good. They'd grown up with the kinds of problems that could be solved in half an hour.
It was an overly naïve way of life the hunter in him felt nothing but contempt for. And yet, the father in him wished more than anything it was a life he could have given Sam and Dean.
He sighed and lay down on the couch. He didn't want to go to sleep, knowing that when he woke up he would no longer be in this cozy home, but suddenly he felt very tired.
If only the Yellow Eyed Demon hadn't targeted his family. If only his sweet Mary had lived to raise the boys with him. If only they had lived in a world with no real problems or paranormal threats. Their lives would have been perfect then.
"I would have been a perfect father!" was his last thought before sleep overtook him.
"MMM! Apple Pie!" was his first thought upon waking.
He found himself lying in a king sized bed with a freshly laundered comforter pulled up to his chin. Sunlight was streaming through his bedroom window, illuminating his familiar surroundings. He knew this room. And he knew it was exactly where he deserved to be!
Happily he stood up and stretched, taking in the serene view of blue sky and green grass outdoors. The sound of birds chirping and a distant lawn mower cheered him to the depths of his soul.
"Another perfect day in Lawrence, Kansas!" he exclaimed.
The blissful aroma of cinnamon and baked apples drew him down the stairs and into the kitchen where he was greeted by the most perfect sight…
"Mary!"
Continued in Chapter 5
Disclaimer: I didn't create these chracters.
Chapter 4-
John stood gaping at the insane visage pressed against the splintered wood of the front door.
"Damnation, Torrance!" Dr. Jones shouted at his visitor, "Can't you ever just knock!"
The obviously unbalanced man reached through the hole he had just made and turned the door knob to let himself in.
"I need more paper, Jones!" Torrance demanded, "The novel's really coming along now!"
"Fine. Have all you want if it'll keep you occupied and off my property!" Dr. Jones huffed, "Excuse me, John. I'll be back momentarily."
He walked off towards the back of the cottage leaving his guests to stare at one another in awkward silence. Torrance twitched uncomfortably under John's scrutinizing glare, running his free hand through his oil slicked hair as he absently twirled his axe in the other. He held a large stack of stained and crumpled manuscript pages under his arm that he squeezed tightly to his chest as he studied John with paranoid intensity.
It was John who finally broke the tension.
"I'm John Winchester," he said, warily extending his hand.
"Jack Torrance," the man said, pressing his sweaty palm into the offered hand.
His beetle-like eyebrows furrowed suddenly.
"Wait a minute…" he muttered, "Winchester? The John Winchester? Hunter of demons, spirits and things that go 'bump' in the night?"
"That's me," said John, "Or was me…"
"Well, let me ask you this, pal!" Torrance snapped, "Would it have been too much trouble for you and your boys to de-ghost the Overlook Hotel before it had to go and ruin my life? I swear… I just get a little tense one night and go on a teensy weensy murderous rampage against my wife and son and BOOM! Next thing ya know, I'm down here in Swampville living in an igloo made entirely out of dung!"
John gritted his teeth, taking his hand back and wiping it off on the back of his jeans.
"Just take your paper and go," Jones returned shoving a ream into Torrance's hands.
"Thanks buddy!"
Torrance ogled the blank pages before turning to back to John with an inspired grin.
"You can be my Beta!" he announced, dumping his completed manuscript into John's arms.
He then spun on his heel, heaved his axe and chopped down the rest of the door to make his exit. John watched him scamper away down the muddied path before turning his attention to the pages in his hands. The "novel" consisted of nothing but the words: "Alcohol, anger and axe wielding make Jack a bad dad!" repeated over and over again.
He chucked the manuscript in a nearby waste basket then bent down to gather up the broken pieces of Dr. Jones's door.
"Oh, just leave it," the Professor uttered, "Powers that Be willing, it'll be replaced tomorrow… for Mr. Torrance to break down again. Lousy, lousy neighborhood! Ah, if only…"
John stood by silently as the older man bowed his head and pursed his lips with self-rebuke.
"It really wouldn't have taken that much," Dr. Jones sighed, "A father/son picnic here, a game of catch there. If I'd just once said: 'I'm proud of you, son! Nice job dodging that boulder!' things would have been better. I might have even earned a nice two-story in the Suburbs. Just to wake up to the sight of green grass and the scent of fresh flowers. It would be so nice…"
The Professor chuckled sheepishly.
"And on that overwrought note I think I shall turn in for the night."
"Oh…" John began, his eyes trailing to the splintered wood and muddy foot prints scattered about the floor, "Are you sure you don't want help cleaning this mess up? I don't mind…"
He was stalling and they both knew it. He liked Dr. Jones and didn't want the man to think of him as one of the local moochers. But he also did not want to go back to that cramped malodorous trailer he now called home.
"Look, I really don't want to impose on you," he swallowed his pride, "But could I sleep on your couch? Just for one night?"
"You may," Dr. Jones said to his relief, "However I must warn you the Powers that Be are very strict in their living assignments. You're welcome to go to sleep on my sofa any night you wish. But when you wake up in the morning you'll find yourself exactly where they think you deserve to be. Goodnight, Mr. Winchester."
"Goodnight Dr. Jones."
He waited until the older man had retired to his bedroom before sitting down and wringing his hands through his hair. How could this be happening to him? After everything he had gone through, how could it all boil down to this?
He picked up the newspaper and ran his hand over the article about his sons as if doing so could somehow reconnect him to Sam and Dean. He missed them so much.
He glanced over at some of the articles about other people's children.
The yahoos over at Eternal Estates, their kids had it so good. They were living perfect, happy little lives even as his boys were facing killer clowns, pissed off Harvelle women and the ever encroaching menace of the Yellow Eyed Demon and his mysterious plan. But then, as far as he could tell, their kids had always had it good. They'd grown up with the kinds of problems that could be solved in half an hour.
It was an overly naïve way of life the hunter in him felt nothing but contempt for. And yet, the father in him wished more than anything it was a life he could have given Sam and Dean.
He sighed and lay down on the couch. He didn't want to go to sleep, knowing that when he woke up he would no longer be in this cozy home, but suddenly he felt very tired.
If only the Yellow Eyed Demon hadn't targeted his family. If only his sweet Mary had lived to raise the boys with him. If only they had lived in a world with no real problems or paranormal threats. Their lives would have been perfect then.
"I would have been a perfect father!" was his last thought before sleep overtook him.
"MMM! Apple Pie!" was his first thought upon waking.
He found himself lying in a king sized bed with a freshly laundered comforter pulled up to his chin. Sunlight was streaming through his bedroom window, illuminating his familiar surroundings. He knew this room. And he knew it was exactly where he deserved to be!
Happily he stood up and stretched, taking in the serene view of blue sky and green grass outdoors. The sound of birds chirping and a distant lawn mower cheered him to the depths of his soul.
"Another perfect day in Lawrence, Kansas!" he exclaimed.
The blissful aroma of cinnamon and baked apples drew him down the stairs and into the kitchen where he was greeted by the most perfect sight…
"Mary!"
Continued in Chapter 5