The Family Business

Mirrors

The bunker was dark and quiet when Dean returned. He considered it a blessing, he knew he looked like shit. He didn't want to deal with worried looks, questions of where he's been, and he really didn't want to answer if he was alright.

Dean made his way to the kitchen, he smiled at the plate of leftovers in the fridge. His name was written neatly on a piece of folded paper laying on top. He just shook his head and closed the door. His appetite was temporarily gone at the prospect of having to read the note from his mom.

Dean stepped over to the liquor cabinet and grabbed the whiskey and two tumblers. He straddled a barstool at the table as he poured the amber liquid. Dean slid the extra drink to the empty seat across from him and tapped the table.

"How did you know I was here?"

"Sometimes I'm really good at my job," Dean responded.

Ben stepped out of the shadowed corner and took the offered seat. He looked at the glass that sat in front of him "you sure?"

"Hey, I'm not ignorant," Dean said. "I had a fake ID when I was your age, it's how I bought your mom and her friend's tequila shots during spring break."

Dean watched as Ben smiled at the memory he shared "besides, your grandpa used to do this with me after bad hunts. If shit had gone sideways or if we lost a friend we sat together and talked it out, man to man."

"So drinking whiskey with your underaged son is a family tradition then," Ben said.

"Yeah," Dean chucked. "I suppose it is."

"I'm sorry."

"I know, so am I."

"I shouldn't have..."

"No," Dean interrupted. "I had it coming, kid. I made a lot of mistakes in the past, leaving you two will always be my only regret."

The two sat in silence, both mourning the woman they lost. Dean reached over and refilled Bens glass as well as his.

"So, Krissy Chambers huh?" he asked. Breaking the silence.

"Yeah," Ben said as he choked on the liquid he was trying to swallow.

"You good?" Dean chuckled at his son who was coughing and trying to catch his breath.

"Yeah," Ben coughed again then cleared his throat. "Just wasn't expecting to have this conversation."

"What conversation?"

"You know, the one where the parent asks about the significant other just to warn them to use protection," Ben said.

"Well," Dean said. "Through no fault of my own may I add so if anyone says differently they're lying, I already know you're using protection."

Ben groaned and swallowed down the rest of what was in his glass "can we please not have this talk."

Dean smiled at Ben's discomfort "oh no, now we're definitely doing it."

Ben reached out and snatched the whiskey bottle from his dad and brought it to his lips. He took a long hard pull from the bottle before setting it back down. He sighed and poured himself another drink while nodding his head.

"Okay," Said Ben. He took a deep breath and ignored his father's laughter "let's get this over with."

Once Dean was able to collect himself he began with the standard parent questions. They spent the next hour talking about how Krissy and Ben came to be. Ben shared a few stories about times she had lost her shit at him during a case because he had missed something or put himself in unnecessary danger.

"I swear if I hadn't have taken the bullets out of her gun to prep it for cleaning, she would have shot me right there she was so mad."

"Hey, Ben," Dean said as their laughter quieted.

"Yeah?"

Dean cleared his throat, his face became serious as he took interest in the liquid in his glass.

"Do you love her?"

Ben unconsciously mimicked his father "Yeah, yeah I do."

Dean nodded his head a looked up at him, he tapped the table to get Ben to look at him.

"Don't fuck it up, kid."

Ben gave him a grateful smile and nodded his head. Dean stood up with a sigh and took his glass to the sink.

"Hey Dean," Ben called to him as he was making his way out. "Did you love my mom?"

He turned to look at Ben, he took a second to really look at him. The answer to his questions had been right there the whole time if he only would have really opened his eyes. If he hadn't been distracted with hunting or trying to make himself fit into an image that wasn't him, he would have seen it. Ben looked a hell of a lot like he did when he met Lisa nineteen years ago. Dean swallowed the lump in his throat and took a deep breath.

"Yeah kid," he said. "I really do."

He left it at that and made his way to his room, the whiskey was starting to hit him and he wanted to pass out in his bed and not the hall again.