Spn and TW Oneshots Book 2(CLOSED)

Disappointment(Destiel)

*Warning for very mild abuse*

Strange things happened all the time in Sam and Dean's life, so when the brothers walked in to see their father sitting at their kitchen table with their mother, the first words out of Dean's mouth shouldn't have been 'what the fuck', but they were.

"Dean," Mary scolded gently, standing.

"Uh, mom?" Sam looked to the blonde for an explanation. It had been close to fifteen years since their father had traded his life for Dean's.

"I know, this is insane, but it's him, I promise," Mary glanced over at her once husband.

Dean frowned at the man. He didn't look a day older than the last time he'd seen him.

"How?" Sam asked, the frown not leaving his face as John pulled Sam into a hug. Sam hugged back stiffly.

"A spell gone wrong on my end, your angel says I should be back in my time before long," John answered taking a step towards his oldest son. He reached out to pull Dean into a hug next, "It's good to see you boys."

"Cas is here?" Dean asked worriedly, pulling back. Dread washed over the hunter.

"Yeah, he got in last night," Mary nodded with a smile.

Dean looked horrified. Cas had been out running a few errands. Of course he'd be home in time to meet his father.

Sam caught his brother's eye. He could see the concern Dean wore.

"Dean," Cas walked in then, a warm smile on his face.

Dean stepped back as Cas made his way towards him, "Hey," Dean answered stiffly.

Cas paused, sensing Dean's sudden discomfort.

"Dean?" Mary frowned at his response to Cas. Usually Dean was happy when Cas got back after being gone for a few days.

"Who's hungry?" Dean asked before his mother could question him.

"Starved," Sam nodded at his brother.

"I'll make breakfast," Dean offered going to the fridge. He did his absolute best to avoid eye contact with anyone.

"Can I help?" Cas asked then, walking cautiously towards the hunter.

"No, I'm good," Dean gave a forced smile before busying himself with cutting peppers for the omelets.

John spoke up then, but Dean wasn't paying attention. Flashes of a painful memory trudged to the surface.

"What the hell is wrong with you, Dean?" John shouted shoving Dean into their hotel room.

Dean squared his shoulders trying not to show any vulnerability.

"A boy? Really? That's where you were?" John sneered at his oldest son.

"Sam wanted to study at the library," Dean answered as if that was an excuse for what he'd been doing.

"Who is he?" John demanded, taking a terrifying step towards Dean.

"No one," Dean shook his head.

"Bullshit, you had your tongue down his god damn throat, who is he?" John barked, taking another step.

Dean tried not to show his fear. He prayed his dad would back off. Not in front of Sammy, he thought.

"Give me a name," John growled grabbing Dean's jacket harshly.

"Nathan," Dean answered sharply. He wouldn't give a last name for fear of what John might do.