Sometime You Should Listen to Your Dad, Supernatural, Keeper!Verse, PG
Title: Sometimes You Should Listen to Your Dad
Characters: Sam/Dean, Dean's daugher Dana, Sam's dog Aristotle
Rating: PG, established m/m wincest relationship but absolutely nothing graphic here, only a couple of bad words actually
Words: 2500ish
Disclaimer: Owned by corporate types & that fanboy Kripke. Not mine in any way shape or form - just playing.
Notes:
This is a chapter was written by M, and is archived here.
If you have not read Keeper, go here and check it out.
The characterizations of Sam & Dean here fit Keeper, not canon.
A/Ns: Many thanks to amara_m for telling me, when the evil plot bunny bit me in the ass, to "Go Forth and Fic" and for the excellent beta. You Rock Baby - thank you for letting me play in your 'verse.
Summary: Dana is 14, very very 14.
No harm was actually done to any animal by the writing of this fic, really.
Comments greatly appreciated.
"How's it goin' honey?" Sam raises his head from his book from his prone position in the recliner and glances at Dana.
Dana stares miserably down at her homework. "Would you write my character study for me Sam?" Dana looks at him hopefully.
"Why's it a problem?"
Yes, right there. One of the things she so loves about him. Instead of just telling her to get off her ass and quit stalling, he is concerned as to why it's a problem. She basks in the love and caring he's sending her way.
"I know you, Dad, Papa and Missouri and anything I write about you all has to be all made up. I can't write about one of my friends because the rest of them would get all drama on me that I didn't pick one of them." Dana rolls her eyes and blows at her bangs and pronounces dramatically, "That leaves no one."
"Why don't you write about Bill?"
"Bill? Bill?" Dana's voice raises in teenage exasperation. "That beer drinking, football betting mechanic from Dad's garage?"
Sam nods.
"What is interesting about him, pray tell?" Dana cocks an eyebrow at him.
Sam laughs, "Write a profile of ordinariness."
Dana grimaces, "So, I'm supposed to bore my teacher into giving me an A?"
Sam nods, acknowledging that making Bill interesting is a tricky task.
"OK, write a profile of Aristotle." Aristotle lifts her head from her position sprawled across Sam's lap and whines.
"Person. It's supposed to be about a Person." It's Dana's turn to whine as she throws her hands into the air for effect.
"Ok, what about this? Write it as if she is a person and reveal at the end that she is just an extraordinary dog." Sam smiles encouragingly.
Dana brightens. "Not a half bad idea Uncle Sammy. Will you share writing it?" she asks hopefully as she holds her pen out to him.
Sam sighs and something passes over his face. Dana inhales softly. Sam is exuding a calm, peaceful, soothing presence mentally but that look. Something is not exactly right with him.
She knows not to ask. Sam's business is Sam's business; she's learned that lesson the hard way. So, she observes with her eyes, not with her mind. She sees his poor coloring, his awkward position and all the pillows propping him up, his shallow breathing, his pale and wan face. It's not the first time she has seen him in pain, not even the first time she realizes he suffers, but it's the first time he feels truly old to her, drawn and worn out.
Dana fights the urge to run and call her Dad.
"Ok," Sam says.
Dana shakes her head, thinks she misheard. "OK? You're going to write half for me?" she asks, a little shocked.
"Yeah, honey, it'll be fun. I'll write the opening and you close."
Dana smiles full on, "You're the best Uncle Sammy - THE. BEST. Love you."
~That Evening, Bed Time
Dana and Sam spent two hours on the paper, giggling, changing words around, laughing at each other's prose, arguing over the phrasing of the big reveal.
Dana is happy. What had been a crap assignment turned out to be a blast.
She looks over at her Dad, sitting on the recliner in her room and reading the paper.
Dean smiles as he puts it down and looks at her. "It's terrific Dana but you know that already."
Dana glows. It is good. No, it's great. It's funny, insightful and has a clever twist. But, that isn't why she asked Dad to come to her room and he knows it too.
Without preamble, she launches into it. "Dad. Something is wrong with Sam."
Dana feels her father's eyes bear down on her. "What do you mean Dana?" The words come out calmly.
"He's covering it mentally, sending out the 'all is well' vibe. But he's in pain Dad and troubled." Her voice trails off.
"Did you ask him about it?" Dean asks sternly.
"No," Dana replies definitively. "I try really hard to give Sam his space."
This earns her an approving smile from Dad. She's learned and he's proud of her.
Dean rubs a hand down his face and moves to sit on the bed next to her. He stares at her for a long while.. "Some days are worse than others for him honey. For the most part he keeps the past under lock and key but even his control isn't that perfect. Some days, weeks, are hard. He tries to hide it, manage…" Dean's voice trails off.
Dana swallows hard.
Dean rushes to add, "You know better than I do what he went through Dana. He tries hard, he really does."
Dana whispers, "What can we do Dad?"
"I don't think anything, honey. Sometimes I poke a little but I never know if I'm doing the right thing or not." Dean pauses and puts an arm around her. "And I know I don't want you to poke."
Dana nods, understands.
In a little voice, she asks, "How bad is it Dad?"
Dean is silent for a moment, reflective. "Some nights there are horrible nightmares and tears and pain. He relives it. He hurts. But, we get through it."
Dana shudders and chokes down a sob. She simply knows too much about the horrors of Sam's life before them. "What if we lost him Dad?"
Dean is rigid. "Do you see something Dana? Do you?"
"No Dad," she hurries to answer. "It's just….you, Sam, Papa, Missouri….y'all go out of your way to protect me. Maybe it's time I start learning more stuff. Take on more stuff. Be more ready. Take some burden off Sam."
Dean looks at her, and a sadness echoes in his words, "Dana you're only fourteen and lord knows you've experienced too much already. There will come a time when you need to learn more but not now. No, not yet."
~Two Days Later
Dana watches Aristotle chase the ball, pick it up and dutifully run it back to her. Aristotle running is dog perfection - long, sleek chocolate body joyfully tearing across the grass, ears flopping, tail wagging, tongue lolling all the while with that dumbass Labrador smile on her face. After Ari catches the ball, she cocks her head toward Dana as if to show off her prize. Dana claps her approval as Ari trots back to her and drops the ball then flops her body down and looks up at her with soulful brown eyes.
"Ya know Ari - Dad said no to me learning more but I think he's wrong. I could do more to protect all of us, take pressure off Sam."
At the word 'Sam', Aristotle jumps up on all fours and runs around in a circle doing a happy dance. Dana laughs out loud, "I don't know if it's possible for a dog to love something more than you love Sammy, is it Ari?" Aristotle looks at her and Dana swears that dog grins in agreement.
Dana heads off for home, Aristotle trotting at her side. "I'm thinking I could take one or two of those books that Sam has hidden in his closet and study them. Practice a few things. Learning is good, right? I mean -I go tot school to learn, ya know?"
Dana looks down at the dog and tells her, "Yeah, I am right. We'll check out the closet when we get home." Dana feels in her heart this is the right thing to do.
~Four Days Later
Dana had selected a book of witchcraft, about 400 years old. Truth be told, she chose it because it has a pretty ruby red cover. Getting the book had been easy. The chest resides in Sam's closet. Since Sam really only uses the room for storage, she didn't even really need to sneak in. Getting the lock open had been harder. So, she used her powers to pop it open. The red cover caught her eye instantly.
She's been pouring over it with every extra second ever since. And she has a plan, a good plan. Start slow. An easy spell. Practice it. Get used to the words. Perfect it. Then move on to the next. No rush. Nice and careful. She would get really good at five or six of them before telling Missouri. They will be impressed, proud of her, understand she can help. It will be all good.
She re-reads the shrinking spell for the hundredth time. It's straightforward. Only ten words. You only have to draw a little circle in the dirt. Dana figures she can use chalk. Shrinking things is cool and useful. If you are on a hunt, you can shrink things in order to carry them easily. Very handy.
Dana turns to Aristotle. "Ari - here's the plan. I'll do the shrinking spell and then learn the un-shrinking spell. First, I'll shrink a box - no harm there, right? No one cares about a ratty old box."
Ari wags her tail. Dana figures that's sufficient approval.
She draws the circle on the floor around the box, herself and Ari and takes a deep breath. She closes her eyes to calm herself. She opens her eyes and focuses on the box. She says the ten words.
And then she starts screaming.
Dean and Sam are in the kitchen when the screaming starts. They reach for the drawer with the Glocks, grab one each and race up the stairs. The screaming transforms to wailing sobs of "No No No No" as they reach the top of the stairs. Dana's door is locked. Dean unceremoniously kicks in it, wood splintering everywhere. They both fly into the room. Dean freezes and feels Sam freeze behind him.
Dana is bent over, sobbing violently.
Dean and Sam survey the room and then creep toward Dana.
"Honey, what's wrong?"
Dana mumbles, "I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry."
"What are you sorry for Dana?" Dean asks gently.
Dana uncurls slowly and reveals a 6 inch Aristotle huddled in her hands. Dean hisses. Sam reaches for the dog. Dean reaches for Dana and picks her up by the scruff of her neck. He marches her downstairs to the kitchen. Dana's sobbing continues, increasing in volume.
In the kitchen, he pushes her forcefully into a chair, takes a deep breath. He turns his back to her and rubs his face before turning back around.
"DANA ELIZABETH WINCHESTER - I have NEVER and I repeat NEVER been so fucking disappointed, upset and angry with anything in my whole life."
Dana looks up at him shocked. Dean's never yelled at her before, not like that, but the time obviously has arrived.
Dana tries the, "I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry" routine.
"Sorry won't cut it Dana. Stop it and stop those tears." Dean screams harshly. "I am furious with you on so many levels that I do not know where to begin."
Dean pauses, inhales, paces then whips around to face her.
"No, I take that back. I know exactly." Dean feels himself shaking with his fury and doesn't attempt to suppress it. She needs to see this.
"That dog is the one thing that has ever been HIS Dana. Solely his. The one that that he has loved and has never hurt him or asked anything of him HIS WHOLE LIFE." Dean leans forward into her face. "Do you get that? Do you?"
"But….," Dana tries to get an explanation out.
Dean cuts her off instantly. "Young lady, if you don't get that I do not want to hear ONE WORD from you, you are not half as bright as I thought."
Dean continues in a deep, harsh, enraged whisper, "You are not to move one inch. You are not to use your powers to move anything to you. You are to sit in THAT chair and try not to move a muscle. I will be back to share with you all the reasons I am furious and to explain in detail every way you have screwed up and disappointed me." Dean stops than adds forcefully, "Right now I am going to check on Sam."
Dean climbs the stairs slowly, the initial fury ebbing, replaced with concern for Sam. Dean realizes it is just a dog. But, it's Sam's dog and it might be dumb but he wants that dog to be okay.
Dean walks into Dana's room and sees Sam laying on his side petting Aristotle with one finger. Ari is curled beside Sam's face.
"What's the story?" Dean asks as he lowers himself to the floor behind Sam and reaches out to brush his hand through Sam's hair.
Sam leans into the touch and Dean can feel his smile.
"Truthfully, I don't think there's any real harm done here."
Dean moves his hand to caress Sam's back.
"She took one of the books from my closet."
Dean jerks, anger rising.
Sam continues, "Yeah, that's bad, really bad. But, good news - she picked a relatively harmless spell to try. I think she tried to shrink this shoe box."
Dean glances at it, sitting on the floor.
"But, I'm guessing she didn't know that this incantation doesn't work on inanimate objects. The words must have bounced off the box and whacked Ari."
Dean asks quietly, "Can you fix her?"
Sam puts Ari in his hand and rolls over to face Dean, placing Ari in between them. "It'll wear off in a few days." Dean sighs in relief and absentmindedly pets the dog. Sam adds, "But we don't need to tell her that. Let her see Ari like this. Get a good dose of the consequences."
Dean exhales, "What the fuck am I going to do with her? I really thought we could trust her. I hate the feeling that we can't. I can not believe she would pull something like this." Dean drops his head to the floor as if it is too heavy to hold up any longer.
Sam nods in affirmation. "Yeah. I don't know the answer. We've got a smart teenager with extraordinary powers and a headstrong streak two miles wide. I'd suggest we send her to a convent but she'd probably blow it up."
Dean laughs, relief flooding through him that Aristotle is okay and Sam is taking this as well as possible. "I'm really glad Aristotle is okay Sammy - really glad. As to Dana, she's pulled some stunts in her time but this…..willful disobedience……"
Sam looks Dean in the eye, "Yeah - we're going to have to be really tough on her."
Dean hates it but it's true. Time for some very tough love. One thing he knows for certain - it is going to suck out loud to be Dana Elizabeth Winchester for a good long while.
Characters: Sam/Dean, Dean's daugher Dana, Sam's dog Aristotle
Rating: PG, established m/m wincest relationship but absolutely nothing graphic here, only a couple of bad words actually
Words: 2500ish
Disclaimer: Owned by corporate types & that fanboy Kripke. Not mine in any way shape or form - just playing.
Notes:
This is a chapter was written by M, and is archived here.
If you have not read Keeper, go here and check it out.
The characterizations of Sam & Dean here fit Keeper, not canon.
A/Ns: Many thanks to amara_m for telling me, when the evil plot bunny bit me in the ass, to "Go Forth and Fic" and for the excellent beta. You Rock Baby - thank you for letting me play in your 'verse.
Summary: Dana is 14, very very 14.
No harm was actually done to any animal by the writing of this fic, really.
Comments greatly appreciated.
"How's it goin' honey?" Sam raises his head from his book from his prone position in the recliner and glances at Dana.
Dana stares miserably down at her homework. "Would you write my character study for me Sam?" Dana looks at him hopefully.
"Why's it a problem?"
Yes, right there. One of the things she so loves about him. Instead of just telling her to get off her ass and quit stalling, he is concerned as to why it's a problem. She basks in the love and caring he's sending her way.
"I know you, Dad, Papa and Missouri and anything I write about you all has to be all made up. I can't write about one of my friends because the rest of them would get all drama on me that I didn't pick one of them." Dana rolls her eyes and blows at her bangs and pronounces dramatically, "That leaves no one."
"Why don't you write about Bill?"
"Bill? Bill?" Dana's voice raises in teenage exasperation. "That beer drinking, football betting mechanic from Dad's garage?"
Sam nods.
"What is interesting about him, pray tell?" Dana cocks an eyebrow at him.
Sam laughs, "Write a profile of ordinariness."
Dana grimaces, "So, I'm supposed to bore my teacher into giving me an A?"
Sam nods, acknowledging that making Bill interesting is a tricky task.
"OK, write a profile of Aristotle." Aristotle lifts her head from her position sprawled across Sam's lap and whines.
"Person. It's supposed to be about a Person." It's Dana's turn to whine as she throws her hands into the air for effect.
"Ok, what about this? Write it as if she is a person and reveal at the end that she is just an extraordinary dog." Sam smiles encouragingly.
Dana brightens. "Not a half bad idea Uncle Sammy. Will you share writing it?" she asks hopefully as she holds her pen out to him.
Sam sighs and something passes over his face. Dana inhales softly. Sam is exuding a calm, peaceful, soothing presence mentally but that look. Something is not exactly right with him.
She knows not to ask. Sam's business is Sam's business; she's learned that lesson the hard way. So, she observes with her eyes, not with her mind. She sees his poor coloring, his awkward position and all the pillows propping him up, his shallow breathing, his pale and wan face. It's not the first time she has seen him in pain, not even the first time she realizes he suffers, but it's the first time he feels truly old to her, drawn and worn out.
Dana fights the urge to run and call her Dad.
"Ok," Sam says.
Dana shakes her head, thinks she misheard. "OK? You're going to write half for me?" she asks, a little shocked.
"Yeah, honey, it'll be fun. I'll write the opening and you close."
Dana smiles full on, "You're the best Uncle Sammy - THE. BEST. Love you."
~That Evening, Bed Time
Dana and Sam spent two hours on the paper, giggling, changing words around, laughing at each other's prose, arguing over the phrasing of the big reveal.
Dana is happy. What had been a crap assignment turned out to be a blast.
She looks over at her Dad, sitting on the recliner in her room and reading the paper.
Dean smiles as he puts it down and looks at her. "It's terrific Dana but you know that already."
Dana glows. It is good. No, it's great. It's funny, insightful and has a clever twist. But, that isn't why she asked Dad to come to her room and he knows it too.
Without preamble, she launches into it. "Dad. Something is wrong with Sam."
Dana feels her father's eyes bear down on her. "What do you mean Dana?" The words come out calmly.
"He's covering it mentally, sending out the 'all is well' vibe. But he's in pain Dad and troubled." Her voice trails off.
"Did you ask him about it?" Dean asks sternly.
"No," Dana replies definitively. "I try really hard to give Sam his space."
This earns her an approving smile from Dad. She's learned and he's proud of her.
Dean rubs a hand down his face and moves to sit on the bed next to her. He stares at her for a long while.. "Some days are worse than others for him honey. For the most part he keeps the past under lock and key but even his control isn't that perfect. Some days, weeks, are hard. He tries to hide it, manage…" Dean's voice trails off.
Dana swallows hard.
Dean rushes to add, "You know better than I do what he went through Dana. He tries hard, he really does."
Dana whispers, "What can we do Dad?"
"I don't think anything, honey. Sometimes I poke a little but I never know if I'm doing the right thing or not." Dean pauses and puts an arm around her. "And I know I don't want you to poke."
Dana nods, understands.
In a little voice, she asks, "How bad is it Dad?"
Dean is silent for a moment, reflective. "Some nights there are horrible nightmares and tears and pain. He relives it. He hurts. But, we get through it."
Dana shudders and chokes down a sob. She simply knows too much about the horrors of Sam's life before them. "What if we lost him Dad?"
Dean is rigid. "Do you see something Dana? Do you?"
"No Dad," she hurries to answer. "It's just….you, Sam, Papa, Missouri….y'all go out of your way to protect me. Maybe it's time I start learning more stuff. Take on more stuff. Be more ready. Take some burden off Sam."
Dean looks at her, and a sadness echoes in his words, "Dana you're only fourteen and lord knows you've experienced too much already. There will come a time when you need to learn more but not now. No, not yet."
~Two Days Later
Dana watches Aristotle chase the ball, pick it up and dutifully run it back to her. Aristotle running is dog perfection - long, sleek chocolate body joyfully tearing across the grass, ears flopping, tail wagging, tongue lolling all the while with that dumbass Labrador smile on her face. After Ari catches the ball, she cocks her head toward Dana as if to show off her prize. Dana claps her approval as Ari trots back to her and drops the ball then flops her body down and looks up at her with soulful brown eyes.
"Ya know Ari - Dad said no to me learning more but I think he's wrong. I could do more to protect all of us, take pressure off Sam."
At the word 'Sam', Aristotle jumps up on all fours and runs around in a circle doing a happy dance. Dana laughs out loud, "I don't know if it's possible for a dog to love something more than you love Sammy, is it Ari?" Aristotle looks at her and Dana swears that dog grins in agreement.
Dana heads off for home, Aristotle trotting at her side. "I'm thinking I could take one or two of those books that Sam has hidden in his closet and study them. Practice a few things. Learning is good, right? I mean -I go tot school to learn, ya know?"
Dana looks down at the dog and tells her, "Yeah, I am right. We'll check out the closet when we get home." Dana feels in her heart this is the right thing to do.
~Four Days Later
Dana had selected a book of witchcraft, about 400 years old. Truth be told, she chose it because it has a pretty ruby red cover. Getting the book had been easy. The chest resides in Sam's closet. Since Sam really only uses the room for storage, she didn't even really need to sneak in. Getting the lock open had been harder. So, she used her powers to pop it open. The red cover caught her eye instantly.
She's been pouring over it with every extra second ever since. And she has a plan, a good plan. Start slow. An easy spell. Practice it. Get used to the words. Perfect it. Then move on to the next. No rush. Nice and careful. She would get really good at five or six of them before telling Missouri. They will be impressed, proud of her, understand she can help. It will be all good.
She re-reads the shrinking spell for the hundredth time. It's straightforward. Only ten words. You only have to draw a little circle in the dirt. Dana figures she can use chalk. Shrinking things is cool and useful. If you are on a hunt, you can shrink things in order to carry them easily. Very handy.
Dana turns to Aristotle. "Ari - here's the plan. I'll do the shrinking spell and then learn the un-shrinking spell. First, I'll shrink a box - no harm there, right? No one cares about a ratty old box."
Ari wags her tail. Dana figures that's sufficient approval.
She draws the circle on the floor around the box, herself and Ari and takes a deep breath. She closes her eyes to calm herself. She opens her eyes and focuses on the box. She says the ten words.
And then she starts screaming.
Dean and Sam are in the kitchen when the screaming starts. They reach for the drawer with the Glocks, grab one each and race up the stairs. The screaming transforms to wailing sobs of "No No No No" as they reach the top of the stairs. Dana's door is locked. Dean unceremoniously kicks in it, wood splintering everywhere. They both fly into the room. Dean freezes and feels Sam freeze behind him.
Dana is bent over, sobbing violently.
Dean and Sam survey the room and then creep toward Dana.
"Honey, what's wrong?"
Dana mumbles, "I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry."
"What are you sorry for Dana?" Dean asks gently.
Dana uncurls slowly and reveals a 6 inch Aristotle huddled in her hands. Dean hisses. Sam reaches for the dog. Dean reaches for Dana and picks her up by the scruff of her neck. He marches her downstairs to the kitchen. Dana's sobbing continues, increasing in volume.
In the kitchen, he pushes her forcefully into a chair, takes a deep breath. He turns his back to her and rubs his face before turning back around.
"DANA ELIZABETH WINCHESTER - I have NEVER and I repeat NEVER been so fucking disappointed, upset and angry with anything in my whole life."
Dana looks up at him shocked. Dean's never yelled at her before, not like that, but the time obviously has arrived.
Dana tries the, "I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry" routine.
"Sorry won't cut it Dana. Stop it and stop those tears." Dean screams harshly. "I am furious with you on so many levels that I do not know where to begin."
Dean pauses, inhales, paces then whips around to face her.
"No, I take that back. I know exactly." Dean feels himself shaking with his fury and doesn't attempt to suppress it. She needs to see this.
"That dog is the one thing that has ever been HIS Dana. Solely his. The one that that he has loved and has never hurt him or asked anything of him HIS WHOLE LIFE." Dean leans forward into her face. "Do you get that? Do you?"
"But….," Dana tries to get an explanation out.
Dean cuts her off instantly. "Young lady, if you don't get that I do not want to hear ONE WORD from you, you are not half as bright as I thought."
Dean continues in a deep, harsh, enraged whisper, "You are not to move one inch. You are not to use your powers to move anything to you. You are to sit in THAT chair and try not to move a muscle. I will be back to share with you all the reasons I am furious and to explain in detail every way you have screwed up and disappointed me." Dean stops than adds forcefully, "Right now I am going to check on Sam."
Dean climbs the stairs slowly, the initial fury ebbing, replaced with concern for Sam. Dean realizes it is just a dog. But, it's Sam's dog and it might be dumb but he wants that dog to be okay.
Dean walks into Dana's room and sees Sam laying on his side petting Aristotle with one finger. Ari is curled beside Sam's face.
"What's the story?" Dean asks as he lowers himself to the floor behind Sam and reaches out to brush his hand through Sam's hair.
Sam leans into the touch and Dean can feel his smile.
"Truthfully, I don't think there's any real harm done here."
Dean moves his hand to caress Sam's back.
"She took one of the books from my closet."
Dean jerks, anger rising.
Sam continues, "Yeah, that's bad, really bad. But, good news - she picked a relatively harmless spell to try. I think she tried to shrink this shoe box."
Dean glances at it, sitting on the floor.
"But, I'm guessing she didn't know that this incantation doesn't work on inanimate objects. The words must have bounced off the box and whacked Ari."
Dean asks quietly, "Can you fix her?"
Sam puts Ari in his hand and rolls over to face Dean, placing Ari in between them. "It'll wear off in a few days." Dean sighs in relief and absentmindedly pets the dog. Sam adds, "But we don't need to tell her that. Let her see Ari like this. Get a good dose of the consequences."
Dean exhales, "What the fuck am I going to do with her? I really thought we could trust her. I hate the feeling that we can't. I can not believe she would pull something like this." Dean drops his head to the floor as if it is too heavy to hold up any longer.
Sam nods in affirmation. "Yeah. I don't know the answer. We've got a smart teenager with extraordinary powers and a headstrong streak two miles wide. I'd suggest we send her to a convent but she'd probably blow it up."
Dean laughs, relief flooding through him that Aristotle is okay and Sam is taking this as well as possible. "I'm really glad Aristotle is okay Sammy - really glad. As to Dana, she's pulled some stunts in her time but this…..willful disobedience……"
Sam looks Dean in the eye, "Yeah - we're going to have to be really tough on her."
Dean hates it but it's true. Time for some very tough love. One thing he knows for certain - it is going to suck out loud to be Dana Elizabeth Winchester for a good long while.