No Son of Mine

Bandages Big Enough

!WARNING!~This chapter and the following chapters might have language that some might not like. You have been warned!

Dean knew that being seven meant that he had more responsibilities, was trusted with more things, and was going to be given more opportunities to prove himself worthy. Dad had made sure he knew that the day before they had started driving. So the next day when they left their motel in Nevada heading towards their new destination, Dean was a quivering ball of excitement and nerves. This is was actually happening. He was going to go on a hunt with his dad.

Hours later Dean woke in the back seat just in time to see his father take the exit for Sioux Falls instead of continuing on the Interstate towards Iowa like they had been planning. He felt betrayed and more than a little angry.

How was Dean supposed to prove to his father that he was a good enough hunter if said father didn't even give him the chance to hunt? Dean knew that his father was in desperate need of a hunting partner, someone to have his back while he went into the bigger, more dangerous hunts. John had come back from the previous hunt banged up and grouchier than ever. Dean thought that his father must've still been feeling the bruises before they left, because he was shouting at Dean more than he ever did after a hunt. It was just another reason that Dean was so adamant to hunt; to make sure that bad things didn't happen to his dad.

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John's patience finally snapped after the fifth time Dean sighed loudly from his seat on the stairs. "Dammit, Dean! Get the fuck over it already and stop being such a damn baby! You're not going, and if you keep up with the attitude, I'll make sure you never will for the rest of your natural born life!"

The only sound that permeated the stunned air was the sound of four-year old Sammy pushing matchbox cars across the floor above them.

Dean's green eyes were wide with apology, worry, and surprise, not realizing that he was sulking loud enough to bother his father. He stood shaking and looked at his clasped hands in front of him. "Sorry, sir. Won't happen again."

"Dean. What've I said about looking at me when you're speaking?"

Dean's head whipped up. "Sorry, sir! Won't happen again!"

John grunted and glared at his son. "Stop repeating yourself. You sound like a damn broken record. You wouldn't have to apologize so damn much if you just did the right thing in the first place! I'm getting tired of it, Dean!"

Bobby, who was sitting passively in the chair next to John, glanced at Dean and saw the boy's hands start to shake. He shot his head to John, hoping to god that the man hadn't seen the so-called 'sign of weakness', but the grizzly bear of a man was focusing back on the lore book that was sitting in his lap while taking a swig of his beer, effectively cutting off any continuing conversation and dismissing the boy all in one flippant gesture.

Bobby gritted his teeth at the blatant sign of disregard the man had for his son that wanted nothing more than to please him, but refrained from saying anything else, in fear of making the man stay longer than he was planning. The longer John stayed, the harder it would be for Bobby to stop himself from saying something he would regret.

Bobby watched with trepidation as the young boy made his way slowly up the stairs, shoulders slumped and head bowed. He'd be giving the boy a talk as soon as his good-for-nothing father was out of the way.

Twenty long minutes later and John was finally gathering the few things he had brought in to head out. Before he left though, he gathered his sons at the bottom of the stairs.

"I'm leaving, and I want you boys to be on your best behavior for Bobby." After receiving two nods of confirmation, he continued. "Dean, if you give Bobby any of the lip that you've given me today, you'll be running laps alone in the rain for the next month. Sammy, buddy, I want you to look after your big brother ok? Make sure he doesn't get into any trouble."