The Night We Met

Chapter 10: Daddy Issues (1)

Dean jogged down the stairs fresh out of the shower. He'd just gotten back from a long day at work and it was late so Sam had already gone to bed when he got back.

He was entirely beat so he was going to heat up some leftovers and head to bed, thankful that he could sleep in because the following school week started on Tuesday instead of Monday. 

While waiting for his food to heat up he sighed, leaning against the kitchen counter. He was eighteen now and the school year was almost over. A lot of things were happening, he had his football game to focus on, college essays to write, work- and on top of it all he had to figure out a game plan for him and Sam. 

Since if he actually got into college that would probably mean moving and Cas didn't want to talk about it so he had to do it by himself. To be honest, the only thing he was sure about was that he wanted- no he needed Cas to be there with him. Through all of it.

Fuck.

He was pulled out his head by a knock at the door. It was ten pm so who the hell could have been at the door?

He ran up to open the door only to be met with complete and utter disappointment. He walked away but left the door open, "What are you doing here?"

"Is that any way to talk to your father?"

Dean scoffed "Yeah some father." He muttered, walking back into the kitchen to keep his distance from his father, "I told you I'd be coming back."

"Yeah well I didn't exactly have high hopes for that."

"Dean, I told you I want to-"

"Talk, I know- and I don't care. Besides remember what happened last time we 'talked'?"

John avoided looking at Dean in shame, "Yeah, Dean I remember."

"Whatever, how long are you staying this time? Huh? A week? Two?"

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about." John said, "But maybe at a better time."

"There's no better time when it comes to talking with you dad." Dean finally looked at him from where he stood behind the kitchen counter, "You come and go whenever the hell you want."

"Dean, I'm sober."

Dean paused, clearly taken back by his fathers sudden words. "What?-" He shook his head, "No you're not."

"I am Dean, I really am." John shook his head, "Look I want to talk, I want to apologize for everything I did after your mother died."

"I spoke to Bobby okay? I don't hate you and Sammy Dean, when I drink I'm a different person and I want to change, I want to make it up to you."

Dean was skeptical, his father had stopped drinking before but never been completely sober or claimed to want to stay that way. He still wasn't buying it and didn't trust John.

His fathers redemption was the last thing he needed.

"Good for you dad but.. I really couldn't care less. You're fourteen years too late." Dean told him, "You lost your wife, but did you ever just stop and think about the fact that your kids lost their mom?"

"..Dean."

"I was barely allowed to grieve because who was left to take care of Sammy? And don't even get me started on the years of abuse. Because you can't fucking justify using the son you gave up on as a punching bag."

"So you want to get better, good on you but now I'm left with years of trauma and substance abuse issues because of you." Dean shook his head, "You can't put a damn band aid on an open stab wound and hope everything turns out okay." He pulled open the microwave and grabbed his food before slamming it shut.