Fic: One Foot In Front of the Other- Chapter 11 (Part 1).
“Dad, what are you doing here?” Sam heard Dean ask as John embraced him and then Sam.
John leaned back to view Sam, a heavy hand on his shoulder. “How’ve you been, Sammy?”
Sam found himself smiling. He was pleasantly surprised to find that he was happy to see his father. It had been so long and after hearing Dean’s stories of how accepting and supportive he had been, he couldn’t help but feel a new wave of respect for the man.
He shrugged sheepishly. “I’ve been good, Dad.”
John returned the smile and turned to his eldest, who was watching the exchange with a huge grin. “And you, son?”
Dean nodded. “Awesome, as usual.”
Sam ushered them both into the kitchen and put on some coffee while Dean and John sat at the table.
“Nice place ya got here, Sammy,” John said as he glanced around the kitchen.
“Oh, you know Sammy’s a regular Martha Stewart,” Dean cracked. “So what was that thing in Arkansas you were after?”
Sam watched his father and brother with a smile on his face. Dean listened intently with bright eyes and a slight frown of concentration as John told him about the small pack of vampires he and another hunter had taken down.
As he waited for the coffee, Sam couldn’t help but wonder at the father’s sudden visit. It wasn’t like him to not be hard at work, searching relentlessly for the next nasty thing to kill. Sam wondered if he was sick. But upon further inspection, Sam couldn’t find any signs of illness. His father looked normal as he spoke animatedly to Dean about killing the vamps. And then Sam’s thoughts traveled to he and Dean’s little son sleeping just down the hall. What would their father think when he found out about his grandson?
Sam joined them at the table with the three steaming mugs of coffee just as the topic shifted.
“So,” Dean quickly sobered, regarding his sons silently. “Werewolves,” he finally answered.
Dean frowned and Sam couldn’t help his small gasp. “Here?”
Swallowing his sip of coffee, John shook his head. “No, Pennsylvania.”
Sam cocked his head, confused. If there were no werewolves in Pennsylvania then what was he doing there? But Sam didn’t have long to ponder.
“I need your help,” John told them.
Sam was trying to think of the best way to let his father down and explain everything to him when he glanced in Dean’s direction and his heart sank. His brother was leaning forward, elbows braced on the table, his eyes alight with a new fire.
“How many?” Dean asked, no doubt already calculating every move necessary in order to get rid of them all. Sam swallowed down his hurt.
John shrugged. “I’m not entirely sure. Still waiting to hear by from my contact for details. It’s just, werewolf isn’t really something a person handles on their own, no matter how many.” John downed the rest of his coffee. “I’ve got a room just in town. I’ll get back to you boys with more information.”
Dean tried to insist on their father staying with them but John refused. Truth be told, they really didn’t have the room. And while John had been completely accepting of this sons’ relationship, that didn’t mean he wanted to be under the same roof with them sleeping in the same bed.
Sam watched the exchange in somewhat of a daze. Confusion clouded his thoughts. Dean had seemed so ready to jump right back into the hunt when their father had asked for their help. When he and John talked about hunting, Dean sat up a bit taller and his eyes sparkled with something Sam found difficult to describe. Had Dean actually been gearing up to follow their father to Pennsylvania to hunt who-knew-how-many werewolves? Or was he simply filled with adrenaline for the hunt ahead of their father?
Once their father had left, Dean turned to Sam with a pleased grin splitting his face. Sam knew they needed to talk about this and he wasn’t looking forward to it.
“Dean?” Sam followed Dean into the kitchen to clean up their coffee mugs. “What are we going to tell Dad?” He rinsed a mug and gave it to Dean.
Swiftly drying, Dean frowned at him. “What do you mean, Sammy?”
“Well, when are we going to tell Dad that he’s going to have to find someone else to help him?”
Dean looked confused. “Why would we do that?”
Sam worked to fight down the irritation struggling to bubble up to the surface.
“Because we have a son to take care of.”
Looking as though that hadn’t previously occurred to him, Dean was silent for a moment. Sam told himself to be understanding; Dean hadn’t been a parent as long as he had.
“Well,” Dean began, doing some quick calculations, “The hunt shouldn’t take very long.”
Shaking his head in disbelief, “So, we’re supposed to bring a four year old with us?”
Dean rolled his eyes. “Of course not, Mikey can stay with Dennis.”
Sam slammed down the coffee pot and eyed Dean incredulously. “I can’t believe you, Dean. I’m not leaving out son just to go chasing after some damn werewolves and I can’t believe you would.”
“Oh please, Sam,” Dean exclaimed in exasperation. “It’s one hunt for a few days. It’s not a big deal; we’ve done this a thousand times. And besides, it’s for Dad.”
“Yeah, sure. It’s not a big deal unless one or both of us doesn’t make it back! Don’t you remember this is why I left in the first place!” Sam was too upset to notice how much his voice had risen.
It was Dean’s turn to slam down a mug as he got up in Sam’s space. “Don’t even give me that shit, Sam! You weren’t thinking about Mikey when you left; you were thinking about yourself. And that’s what the fuck you’re doing right now. How would feel if we didn’t help and Dad got hurt on this hunt-or worse? But I’m sure you wouldn’t care because all you ever think about is yourself and that fucking job of yours, right?”
“Daddy?” They both turned at the gasp from the kitchen doorway just as Mikey burst into sobs.
Sam immediately swept his trembling son into his arms, tears tumbling down his own cheeks.
“Shh, Mikey baby, it’s okay.” Sam ran his hand down Mikey’s back. “I’m sorry we were yelling. It’s okay.”
Dean scrubbed a hand over his face as Sam carried their still whimpering son back to bed.
Sam sat with Mikey, stroking his hair until he was completely calm.
“Mommy,” Mikey glanced up at him. “Why were you and Daddy yelling?”
“We were having a disagreement. We shouldn’t have yelled. I’m sorry.”
Mikey frowned. “Daddy said bad words.”
“I know, sweetie. It’s late, try to sleep.”
It was nearly midnight when Mikey finally fell back into a peaceful sleep. Sam was so exhausted-physically and emotionally- that all he did was climb into bed. Still stinging from Dean’s burning words, Sam didn’t care to wonder if Dean would join him. He soon fell into a restless sleep.