Father of the Year (PG)
Spoilers for 9.07. Seriously. I can't even keep them out of the summary proper.
Summary: Maybe Sam's more right about John than Dean wants to admit. Or maybe they're both wrong.
Or: Just why did John leave Dean at Sonny's for two months?
Father of the Year
A poker game. A damn poker game.
Okay, John thought he had left enough money for two weeks. Maybe he had and he’s been gone for three weeks without realizing it. Maybe he hadn’t paid enough attention to the prices of food lately. Or maybe Dean just really is that reckless. Whatever the reason, Dean not only lost what was left but got caught trying to shoplift enough food to keep Sammy from starving until John got back.
And yes, fine, John should be the one taking responsibility for keeping food on the table, but this monster is damned elusive, and John’s been having a hell of a time even figuring out what it is, never mind how to track it down and kill it before it snacks on anyone else. But he’s close, and he can’t back off now. People’s lives are at stake here, not just Sammy’s food allowance.
John doesn’t have time for this.
Bobby says he can come get Sammy, since he’s two hours away already. Dean knows how to keep himself safe. And in jail, he’ll get three squares a day, not have to worry about Sammy or about dodging the landlord when it comes time to pay rent if John still hasn’t caught this damn monster, and maybe learn a valuable lesson about how to keep himself out of trouble even if he does... end up having to scrounge again.
(John should have left more money. He just doesn’t have it.)
He can’t look Dean in the eye when he says it, but he tells the cop with the shiner to let Dean rot. It’s only a thirty-day sentence. Dean can handle it. Besides, John can come back when he’s done with the hunt and bail Dean out. It’ll only take a week.
Or two.
Or-
Okay, the punctured lung wasn’t part of the plan.
Neither was the pneumonia.
John doesn’t manage to do the math until he’s leaving the hospital in Ann Arbor. Bobby’s bringing Sammy to meet him at a restaurant, and Dean should be getting out-
-wait, it’s-
Dean’s been out for a-
John runs back inside, calls the cops back in New York. Dean’s at a stinkin’ boys home, has been all this time, and John doesn’t even know if the ex-con who runs the joint can be trusted. Two damn months. Anything could have happened to Dean in that time. How the hell did John let matters get so far out of hand?
And then, as he’s waiting for Bobby and Sammy and trying not to show just how anxious he is to get back to the Catskills and get his baby boy back, he gets a page from Caleb about a werewolf in Johnstown, PA-and the full moon’s just two days away.
John’s not well enough to take this one alone, even if he wanted to. He needs Dean.
So they get lunch, he and Bobby and Sammy, and John speeds all the way back to New York and gets there just in time to find out that Dean’s about to take his girlfriend to a dance.
No. No. No.
John can’t do this. He can’t give Dean one more night here. Sonny seems like a decent guy, looks like he cares, but he has no idea what’s after John’s boys. And the girl? Even if she checks out, they can’t put her in danger. This is war; love’s for civilians. Besides that, John needs Dean; he can’t stop that were without help, not with his lungs in the shape that they’re in and a rib that still reminds him it’s busted every time he coughs. He can’t wait. He can’t sleep on Sonny’s couch and leave town in the morning. They’ve got to go now.
Before someone else dies.
Before John can let his boy slip from his grasp.
Before the thing that killed Mary can find them again.
“Tell him I’ve got a job,” John tells Sonny. “He’ll know what it means.” And when Sonny goes upstairs, John goes out to wait in the car. He can’t let on that he’s sick or that he’s panicked. Dean won’t be able to tell if he can’t see John’s face. And John knows his boy. He’ll come when he’s called.
And Dean comes.
But his steps are slow, and his eyes are bright with tears that won’t fall, and his words are all for Sammy.
Tomorrow, John knows as he makes tracks for Johnstown, Dean will have his game face on, and they’ll get this damn were. Maybe then John can bring Dean back to make up with his girl, if she’s worth it. And if not... Dean’s young. He’ll move on. He’ll have to keep moving until John ends this war.
It’s not safe to stay put.
Love’s for civilians.
Family has to come first.
John lost Pops. He lost Mary. He will not lose Dean, too.
Tomorrow it will look like he made the right choice.
But tonight... oh, tonight. When Sammy’s dozed off on Dean’s shoulder, and Dean’s not quite asleep with his cheek on the top of Sammy’s head and he thinks John can’t see, John glances back in the mirror as they pass under a streetlight and sees the tear slip down Dean’s cheek. And he knows.
And it burns.
And he’s the only one to blame.
It’s too late to turn back. There’s no fixing this one. He just has to hope Dean will heal, in time, like he always does.
But John knows.
Oh, Mary, he doesn’t dare even breathe, what the hell have I done?
Summary: Maybe Sam's more right about John than Dean wants to admit. Or maybe they're both wrong.
Or: Just why did John leave Dean at Sonny's for two months?
Father of the Year
A poker game. A damn poker game.
Okay, John thought he had left enough money for two weeks. Maybe he had and he’s been gone for three weeks without realizing it. Maybe he hadn’t paid enough attention to the prices of food lately. Or maybe Dean just really is that reckless. Whatever the reason, Dean not only lost what was left but got caught trying to shoplift enough food to keep Sammy from starving until John got back.
And yes, fine, John should be the one taking responsibility for keeping food on the table, but this monster is damned elusive, and John’s been having a hell of a time even figuring out what it is, never mind how to track it down and kill it before it snacks on anyone else. But he’s close, and he can’t back off now. People’s lives are at stake here, not just Sammy’s food allowance.
John doesn’t have time for this.
Bobby says he can come get Sammy, since he’s two hours away already. Dean knows how to keep himself safe. And in jail, he’ll get three squares a day, not have to worry about Sammy or about dodging the landlord when it comes time to pay rent if John still hasn’t caught this damn monster, and maybe learn a valuable lesson about how to keep himself out of trouble even if he does... end up having to scrounge again.
(John should have left more money. He just doesn’t have it.)
He can’t look Dean in the eye when he says it, but he tells the cop with the shiner to let Dean rot. It’s only a thirty-day sentence. Dean can handle it. Besides, John can come back when he’s done with the hunt and bail Dean out. It’ll only take a week.
Or two.
Or-
Okay, the punctured lung wasn’t part of the plan.
Neither was the pneumonia.
John doesn’t manage to do the math until he’s leaving the hospital in Ann Arbor. Bobby’s bringing Sammy to meet him at a restaurant, and Dean should be getting out-
-wait, it’s-
Dean’s been out for a-
John runs back inside, calls the cops back in New York. Dean’s at a stinkin’ boys home, has been all this time, and John doesn’t even know if the ex-con who runs the joint can be trusted. Two damn months. Anything could have happened to Dean in that time. How the hell did John let matters get so far out of hand?
And then, as he’s waiting for Bobby and Sammy and trying not to show just how anxious he is to get back to the Catskills and get his baby boy back, he gets a page from Caleb about a werewolf in Johnstown, PA-and the full moon’s just two days away.
John’s not well enough to take this one alone, even if he wanted to. He needs Dean.
So they get lunch, he and Bobby and Sammy, and John speeds all the way back to New York and gets there just in time to find out that Dean’s about to take his girlfriend to a dance.
No. No. No.
John can’t do this. He can’t give Dean one more night here. Sonny seems like a decent guy, looks like he cares, but he has no idea what’s after John’s boys. And the girl? Even if she checks out, they can’t put her in danger. This is war; love’s for civilians. Besides that, John needs Dean; he can’t stop that were without help, not with his lungs in the shape that they’re in and a rib that still reminds him it’s busted every time he coughs. He can’t wait. He can’t sleep on Sonny’s couch and leave town in the morning. They’ve got to go now.
Before someone else dies.
Before John can let his boy slip from his grasp.
Before the thing that killed Mary can find them again.
“Tell him I’ve got a job,” John tells Sonny. “He’ll know what it means.” And when Sonny goes upstairs, John goes out to wait in the car. He can’t let on that he’s sick or that he’s panicked. Dean won’t be able to tell if he can’t see John’s face. And John knows his boy. He’ll come when he’s called.
And Dean comes.
But his steps are slow, and his eyes are bright with tears that won’t fall, and his words are all for Sammy.
Tomorrow, John knows as he makes tracks for Johnstown, Dean will have his game face on, and they’ll get this damn were. Maybe then John can bring Dean back to make up with his girl, if she’s worth it. And if not... Dean’s young. He’ll move on. He’ll have to keep moving until John ends this war.
It’s not safe to stay put.
Love’s for civilians.
Family has to come first.
John lost Pops. He lost Mary. He will not lose Dean, too.
Tomorrow it will look like he made the right choice.
But tonight... oh, tonight. When Sammy’s dozed off on Dean’s shoulder, and Dean’s not quite asleep with his cheek on the top of Sammy’s head and he thinks John can’t see, John glances back in the mirror as they pass under a streetlight and sees the tear slip down Dean’s cheek. And he knows.
And it burns.
And he’s the only one to blame.
It’s too late to turn back. There’s no fixing this one. He just has to hope Dean will heal, in time, like he always does.
But John knows.
Oh, Mary, he doesn’t dare even breathe, what the hell have I done?