FIC - Our Portion Here Below
Title: Our Portion Here Below
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: PG
Summary: John accepts his invitation to Thanksgiving dinner with his sons and grandson.
A/N: So, this is late, but I got several requests for follow-up fics from my What Now? series, which led me to this. Title from the hymn my brother and sisters and I always sang at Thanksgiving, called “Praise God From Whom All Blessing Flow”. Viewpoints are switched randomly here, so please just try to go with it :)
**It was pointed out to me that this post got eaten by the goat the first time around, so I'm re-posting.
Sam was doing his level best to remain calm, but he’d not been successful. The idea of seeing his father after more than two years, especially since his circumstances had changed so significantly, made him dizzy with anxiety. He channeled the energy into cleaning, like he had before Dean had shown up several months before.
Once the bathroom was practically sparkling, the floors were scrubbed until his muscles ached, and his carefully constructed cooking schedule had been completed, Sam fell back onto the folded-up futon in the living room, wiping sweat from his brow. Dean’s job had been to keep Jay occupied and happy while Sam was immersed in his cleaning and organizing binge. Of course, Dean had done a fine job of supervising the baby as he carefully explored his new skill of moving around on his own two feet as long as he was holding on to something.
Dean knew that the array of cleaning products were part of his brother’s safety arsenal. When he didn’t want to think, Sam cleaned. Obsessively. It was one of the things he’d learned to accept since the summer, and he steered clear so that Sammy could complete his tasks uninterrupted.
“You all right, there, Sammy?”
“M’fine, just need to baste one more time and I’ve got”, he paused to look at his watch, “eighteen minutes before the sweet potato casserole goes into the oven.”
Dean rolled his eyes and looked Jay in the face. “Your daddy’s flipping his lid. Don’t worry, kid, it happens.”
Jay’s response was to shove his little stuffed dog into Dean’s face for a kiss. “De!”
And for the love of God, there was nothing that melted his heart like hearing Jay make that sound, that one tiny sound that Sam had made when he was a baby.
The sound of Sam’s phone ringing had the brothers at attention immediately.
“Dad?”
“Yeah, Sam, it’s me, just wanted to make sure you knew that I’ll be there soon. Less than an hour. I’m almost there. You need me to stop for anything on the way?” John’s tone was casual, as if a visit between father and sons was some regular thing, but there was an undercurrent of apprehension there.
“Thanks, Dad, but we’re good. Got everything we need right here. All you need to do is show up.” For a second, Sam was afraid he’d said something wrong, like the “show up” comment was some kind of jab, which it wasn’t intended to be.
“All right, son, see you soon.”
Sam disconnected the call and took a deep, steadying breath. Dean placed Jay into his playpen with a few toys and settled down next to his brother, gently carding his fingers through Sam’s hair. “You sure you’re ready for this, man?”
“Jay’s his grandson. He has every right to meet him, hell, to know him. It’s just…the way we left things…”
“Hey”, Dean replied, turning and catching Sam’s jaw so they were looking into each other’s eyes, “I get it. But look at us. It’s not like we exactly parted on good terms, but we managed to get past it. You can do that with Dad, too.”
Sam managed a weak smile at that last comment. “Well, I can do some things with Dad, not the same as what I do with you.”
“Yeah, yeah, but you know the two of us were good before all this started,” gesturing between himself and his brother, “we just had to get used to being around each other again, give it a chance, and look how great everything has turned out so far. It’s gonna be fine, Sam.”
“What if he figures it out?” Sam half-whispered, looking at the floor. “You and me, together, like this, he’ll probably murder us both in cold blood and with malice aforethought.”
“There’s my pre-law Sammy. Anyway, he’s not going to find out, he already said he’s getting a hotel and not staying overnight, so sleeping arrangements aren’t a problem.”
“Yeah, but we both know how finely honed his instincts are. One look or word between us could easily tip him off. I know we can’t rush it, but I want so badly for this to be a time for us to heal, no fighting, no yelling, no accusations…”
“Don’t you go borrowing trouble, Sam. No good comes of that, and you know it. Just go put in the damn casserole. Why you had to top it with pecans instead of marshmallows is beyond me, but I’m sure you have your reasons.”
“I got the recipe from Food Network,” Sam responded, “Plus, it was so easy, even I couldn’t fuck it up. Probably.” He hauled himself up and headed back into the kitchen. “Would you mind changing Jay into something, you know, uh, nice…and if you could try to make sure there’s nothing stuck in his hair…”
Dean cut him off at that point. “Yeah, I’ll do it, of course, but Dad’s gonna love Jay with everything he’s got the minute he looks at him, no matter what he’s wearing.”
The knock at the door froze them both for just a minute, but Sam decided he’d do the same thing he did when Dean showed up - open the door with his son held tight to his hip.
He told John to come in, and didn’t get a chance to say anything else before he felt his father’s arms reach out to embrace him and the baby.
“Good to see you son”, John whispered close to Sam’s ear before stepping back to get a look at his grandchild. The boy seemed to be equally curious, staring back at John like he was trying to get a read on him.
“Dinner’s almost ready. Dad, this is Jay”, he said, cautiously, waiting for what kind of reaction John would have.
The response couldn’t have been more surprising.
“Christ, Sam, it’s like looking at you. Exactly like you, when you were a baby. Hi, Jay. Hi there, buddy.”
Sam told Jay, though he knew the child had no way to comprehend what he was saying, “This is your grandpa. He’s my Da-da, and your Uncle Dean’s Da-da, too. Grandpa.”
John stared at the boy, his eyes filled with wonder and his gut churning with anxiety. Before he even had a chance to ask, Sam was holding the boy out toward him, urging John to hold him. It wasn’t easy, there was still a fair amount of anger in his heart, but he knew it was the right thing to do. Anger or no, he didn’t have the heart to wait for John to muster up what it would have taken to simply ask if he could hold Jay.
As John gathered the child into his arms, he was still a bit shocked to be here, to take in the reality of his sons raising a child on their own. Dean chose this moment to show himself, and easily hugged his Dad, planting a kiss on the top of Jay’s head.
“Dean. It’s been a while. Guess you know a little bit more about this whole situation than I do.”
“Yeah, Dad, I do, but let’s deal with that later. You keep Jay so that Sam and I can put the finishing touches on Thanksgiving dinner, all right?”
“Yeah, um…yeah, of course, he doesn’t seem to think I’m stranger danger, at least”, John replied with a smile.
Dean and Sam set out the places on the new (to them) kitchen table they’d picked up at Goodwill and occasionally stole a glance at John giggling and shaking Jay’s little stuffed dog to make him laugh.
If he’d ever been like that when Dean was little, Dean certainly had no memory of it, and neither did Sam.
Shockingly enough, the dinner conversation had almost nothing to do with the change in Sam’s circumstances. John and Dean shared hunting stories, and Sam laughed along with them while trying to get Jay to use his own tiny little Thomas the Train fork and feed himself. He spit out his first bite of the sweet potato casserole.
Overall, it was a quiet evening, Sam explaining how he ended up here much the same way he’d described it to Dean months ago, but without any of the panic that went along with his call to Dean.
They got through dinner without too much drama. They were all impressed with the meal Sam had put together for Thanksgiving. John implored Sam to return to school, Dean told John to get off Sam’s case, and they ended up just enjoying each other’s company for a few hours.
It reminded John of how he’d spent this particular holiday with various family and friends when he was a kid, something he’d never been able to provide for his sons.
That was all right, though. They were giving it to Sam’s son, he felt certain that Dean and Sam could do so much better than he’d done. His sons didn’t say anything about how long they expected this arrangement to last, but they certainly seemed settled in here. There was something else, though, something between his boys that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Like that phase when they were kids and had made up their own language to keep their conversations private. John brushed it off like he always had - his sons had a much stronger connection to each other than they’d ever had to him, he’d accepted that many years ago.
When dinner was done and John headed back to his hotel, his mind was filled with gratitude for having met his grandson, thanks for his sons sticking together in a difficult situation, and hope for rebuilding his relationship with both his sons. He fell into his bed with Jay’s scent still all over him. He decided he’d take what he could get, while he could get it, His little bit of family time here and there, maybe getting a chance to see his grandchild now and then. Obviously he’d always wanted his sons to make lives for themselves away from hunting. He tried not to think too much about how the boys looked at each other, the symbiotic way they moved, each anticipating the other’s movements constantly. It was somehow different than it had been when they were younger. All he knew for sure was that there was a shift in the dynamics.
It could only be a good thing, how Sam and Dean had settled into a good routine, John thought…they made each other happy and they made his grandson happy.
After John was gone, the dishes cleaned and the leftovers put away, Dean wrapped his brother into a tight embrace.
“You have to admit he did good, Sammy”, he said, kissing Sam on the shoulder.
Sam’s response was stolen from a hymn Pastor Jim had taught them a lifetime ago.
He placed his mouth next to Dean’s ear, whispering, “Praise Father, Son and Holy Ghost.”
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: PG
Summary: John accepts his invitation to Thanksgiving dinner with his sons and grandson.
A/N: So, this is late, but I got several requests for follow-up fics from my What Now? series, which led me to this. Title from the hymn my brother and sisters and I always sang at Thanksgiving, called “Praise God From Whom All Blessing Flow”. Viewpoints are switched randomly here, so please just try to go with it :)
**It was pointed out to me that this post got eaten by the goat the first time around, so I'm re-posting.
Sam was doing his level best to remain calm, but he’d not been successful. The idea of seeing his father after more than two years, especially since his circumstances had changed so significantly, made him dizzy with anxiety. He channeled the energy into cleaning, like he had before Dean had shown up several months before.
Once the bathroom was practically sparkling, the floors were scrubbed until his muscles ached, and his carefully constructed cooking schedule had been completed, Sam fell back onto the folded-up futon in the living room, wiping sweat from his brow. Dean’s job had been to keep Jay occupied and happy while Sam was immersed in his cleaning and organizing binge. Of course, Dean had done a fine job of supervising the baby as he carefully explored his new skill of moving around on his own two feet as long as he was holding on to something.
Dean knew that the array of cleaning products were part of his brother’s safety arsenal. When he didn’t want to think, Sam cleaned. Obsessively. It was one of the things he’d learned to accept since the summer, and he steered clear so that Sammy could complete his tasks uninterrupted.
“You all right, there, Sammy?”
“M’fine, just need to baste one more time and I’ve got”, he paused to look at his watch, “eighteen minutes before the sweet potato casserole goes into the oven.”
Dean rolled his eyes and looked Jay in the face. “Your daddy’s flipping his lid. Don’t worry, kid, it happens.”
Jay’s response was to shove his little stuffed dog into Dean’s face for a kiss. “De!”
And for the love of God, there was nothing that melted his heart like hearing Jay make that sound, that one tiny sound that Sam had made when he was a baby.
The sound of Sam’s phone ringing had the brothers at attention immediately.
“Dad?”
“Yeah, Sam, it’s me, just wanted to make sure you knew that I’ll be there soon. Less than an hour. I’m almost there. You need me to stop for anything on the way?” John’s tone was casual, as if a visit between father and sons was some regular thing, but there was an undercurrent of apprehension there.
“Thanks, Dad, but we’re good. Got everything we need right here. All you need to do is show up.” For a second, Sam was afraid he’d said something wrong, like the “show up” comment was some kind of jab, which it wasn’t intended to be.
“All right, son, see you soon.”
Sam disconnected the call and took a deep, steadying breath. Dean placed Jay into his playpen with a few toys and settled down next to his brother, gently carding his fingers through Sam’s hair. “You sure you’re ready for this, man?”
“Jay’s his grandson. He has every right to meet him, hell, to know him. It’s just…the way we left things…”
“Hey”, Dean replied, turning and catching Sam’s jaw so they were looking into each other’s eyes, “I get it. But look at us. It’s not like we exactly parted on good terms, but we managed to get past it. You can do that with Dad, too.”
Sam managed a weak smile at that last comment. “Well, I can do some things with Dad, not the same as what I do with you.”
“Yeah, yeah, but you know the two of us were good before all this started,” gesturing between himself and his brother, “we just had to get used to being around each other again, give it a chance, and look how great everything has turned out so far. It’s gonna be fine, Sam.”
“What if he figures it out?” Sam half-whispered, looking at the floor. “You and me, together, like this, he’ll probably murder us both in cold blood and with malice aforethought.”
“There’s my pre-law Sammy. Anyway, he’s not going to find out, he already said he’s getting a hotel and not staying overnight, so sleeping arrangements aren’t a problem.”
“Yeah, but we both know how finely honed his instincts are. One look or word between us could easily tip him off. I know we can’t rush it, but I want so badly for this to be a time for us to heal, no fighting, no yelling, no accusations…”
“Don’t you go borrowing trouble, Sam. No good comes of that, and you know it. Just go put in the damn casserole. Why you had to top it with pecans instead of marshmallows is beyond me, but I’m sure you have your reasons.”
“I got the recipe from Food Network,” Sam responded, “Plus, it was so easy, even I couldn’t fuck it up. Probably.” He hauled himself up and headed back into the kitchen. “Would you mind changing Jay into something, you know, uh, nice…and if you could try to make sure there’s nothing stuck in his hair…”
Dean cut him off at that point. “Yeah, I’ll do it, of course, but Dad’s gonna love Jay with everything he’s got the minute he looks at him, no matter what he’s wearing.”
The knock at the door froze them both for just a minute, but Sam decided he’d do the same thing he did when Dean showed up - open the door with his son held tight to his hip.
He told John to come in, and didn’t get a chance to say anything else before he felt his father’s arms reach out to embrace him and the baby.
“Good to see you son”, John whispered close to Sam’s ear before stepping back to get a look at his grandchild. The boy seemed to be equally curious, staring back at John like he was trying to get a read on him.
“Dinner’s almost ready. Dad, this is Jay”, he said, cautiously, waiting for what kind of reaction John would have.
The response couldn’t have been more surprising.
“Christ, Sam, it’s like looking at you. Exactly like you, when you were a baby. Hi, Jay. Hi there, buddy.”
Sam told Jay, though he knew the child had no way to comprehend what he was saying, “This is your grandpa. He’s my Da-da, and your Uncle Dean’s Da-da, too. Grandpa.”
John stared at the boy, his eyes filled with wonder and his gut churning with anxiety. Before he even had a chance to ask, Sam was holding the boy out toward him, urging John to hold him. It wasn’t easy, there was still a fair amount of anger in his heart, but he knew it was the right thing to do. Anger or no, he didn’t have the heart to wait for John to muster up what it would have taken to simply ask if he could hold Jay.
As John gathered the child into his arms, he was still a bit shocked to be here, to take in the reality of his sons raising a child on their own. Dean chose this moment to show himself, and easily hugged his Dad, planting a kiss on the top of Jay’s head.
“Dean. It’s been a while. Guess you know a little bit more about this whole situation than I do.”
“Yeah, Dad, I do, but let’s deal with that later. You keep Jay so that Sam and I can put the finishing touches on Thanksgiving dinner, all right?”
“Yeah, um…yeah, of course, he doesn’t seem to think I’m stranger danger, at least”, John replied with a smile.
Dean and Sam set out the places on the new (to them) kitchen table they’d picked up at Goodwill and occasionally stole a glance at John giggling and shaking Jay’s little stuffed dog to make him laugh.
If he’d ever been like that when Dean was little, Dean certainly had no memory of it, and neither did Sam.
Shockingly enough, the dinner conversation had almost nothing to do with the change in Sam’s circumstances. John and Dean shared hunting stories, and Sam laughed along with them while trying to get Jay to use his own tiny little Thomas the Train fork and feed himself. He spit out his first bite of the sweet potato casserole.
Overall, it was a quiet evening, Sam explaining how he ended up here much the same way he’d described it to Dean months ago, but without any of the panic that went along with his call to Dean.
They got through dinner without too much drama. They were all impressed with the meal Sam had put together for Thanksgiving. John implored Sam to return to school, Dean told John to get off Sam’s case, and they ended up just enjoying each other’s company for a few hours.
It reminded John of how he’d spent this particular holiday with various family and friends when he was a kid, something he’d never been able to provide for his sons.
That was all right, though. They were giving it to Sam’s son, he felt certain that Dean and Sam could do so much better than he’d done. His sons didn’t say anything about how long they expected this arrangement to last, but they certainly seemed settled in here. There was something else, though, something between his boys that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Like that phase when they were kids and had made up their own language to keep their conversations private. John brushed it off like he always had - his sons had a much stronger connection to each other than they’d ever had to him, he’d accepted that many years ago.
When dinner was done and John headed back to his hotel, his mind was filled with gratitude for having met his grandson, thanks for his sons sticking together in a difficult situation, and hope for rebuilding his relationship with both his sons. He fell into his bed with Jay’s scent still all over him. He decided he’d take what he could get, while he could get it, His little bit of family time here and there, maybe getting a chance to see his grandchild now and then. Obviously he’d always wanted his sons to make lives for themselves away from hunting. He tried not to think too much about how the boys looked at each other, the symbiotic way they moved, each anticipating the other’s movements constantly. It was somehow different than it had been when they were younger. All he knew for sure was that there was a shift in the dynamics.
It could only be a good thing, how Sam and Dean had settled into a good routine, John thought…they made each other happy and they made his grandson happy.
After John was gone, the dishes cleaned and the leftovers put away, Dean wrapped his brother into a tight embrace.
“You have to admit he did good, Sammy”, he said, kissing Sam on the shoulder.
Sam’s response was stolen from a hymn Pastor Jim had taught them a lifetime ago.
He placed his mouth next to Dean’s ear, whispering, “Praise Father, Son and Holy Ghost.”