SPN fic: Truth of the Matter 1/1
TITLE: Truth of the Matter
WORD COUNT: 253
RATING: PG
NOTES: Preseries, canon compliant. Written for hc_bingo square "bruises".
SUMMARY: After a hunt, an injured John just doesn't feel comfortable sending Dean to school.
So, Dean missed another day of school and I got a phone call. I told the busybodies he still had a touch of the flu and - though he was better - I still didn't feel comfortable sending him in.
That satisfied them, and that was that.
The truth of the matter was that I really didn't feel comfortable sending Dean to school.
At least not until those bruises completely faded.
If he showed up with those, there would be questions. Possibly CPS, which is the last thing we need - at least until my ankle heals up and I can drive us outta here.
The poltergeist had taken a special shine to me - thrown me around to the point my ankle had fractured and my gun was just out of reach. And then, suddenly, Dean was there - my brave fourteen year old distracting the poltergeist, taking a beating so I could get my gun and blast the mirror it was attached to.
We burned the mirror remnants and warded the house to high heaven, then headed home.
I was going to be laid up for at least six weeks, and Dean looked as if he'd been beaten up. Nobody was going to believe what had beaten him up, so he developed a handy case of "flu" and coughed on cue when the school would call.
In the meantime, he took good care both of me and of the house - and always, of Sammy.
My big damn hero, that boy.
END
WORD COUNT: 253
RATING: PG
NOTES: Preseries, canon compliant. Written for hc_bingo square "bruises".
SUMMARY: After a hunt, an injured John just doesn't feel comfortable sending Dean to school.
So, Dean missed another day of school and I got a phone call. I told the busybodies he still had a touch of the flu and - though he was better - I still didn't feel comfortable sending him in.
That satisfied them, and that was that.
The truth of the matter was that I really didn't feel comfortable sending Dean to school.
At least not until those bruises completely faded.
If he showed up with those, there would be questions. Possibly CPS, which is the last thing we need - at least until my ankle heals up and I can drive us outta here.
The poltergeist had taken a special shine to me - thrown me around to the point my ankle had fractured and my gun was just out of reach. And then, suddenly, Dean was there - my brave fourteen year old distracting the poltergeist, taking a beating so I could get my gun and blast the mirror it was attached to.
We burned the mirror remnants and warded the house to high heaven, then headed home.
I was going to be laid up for at least six weeks, and Dean looked as if he'd been beaten up. Nobody was going to believe what had beaten him up, so he developed a handy case of "flu" and coughed on cue when the school would call.
In the meantime, he took good care both of me and of the house - and always, of Sammy.
My big damn hero, that boy.
END