Destiel One Shots

Buckaroo

It was a nice and bright day. I have come back from work at the clinic, and I had to pick up my son from school. I'll drive into the parking lot of the school to find him sitting alone on the school bench, waiting for me to pick him up. He'd sit there, staring at his feet, as his dark blonde hair adjusted in the wind, and his eyes fixated on his small shoes. I'd look at him for a bit, on how alone he was, how he was always the last one to be picked up. It concerned me how he really felt. That's when I would gather enough courage to honk the horn. After that moment, he'd lift his blue eyes that shined green in the sunlight, if you looked at them closely, straight at me. A smile would grace his small lips, as he brightened up. He hopped off his behind, and ran toward me. I would smile widely, seeing my little boy again.

"Hi Papa!" he would exclaim, looking at me through the driver's window. He was in the first grade now, he's grown so much since he was just a baby. My heart swelled as I let the oceans of memories fill my head.

"Hey son! Hurry up and get in, we got to go see your Daddy. He should be home already. We got to get you something to eat and then we got to start your homework." I replied, as he opened the door to the car and climbed in.

"Can we get a Happy Meal Papa? Please? I got a good grade on my work today! Please?" He begged after putting on his seatbelt. I stared at him throught the preview mirror and saw how much he wanted it. Hah, just like Uncle Sam, I thought.

"Okay, but this stays between you and me, you got it? If you tell your Daddy, he'll kill me for not getting him anything." I said, with a smile, and pulling out of the parking lot.

"I promise!" He giggled, remembering all the "secrets" we kept together. My husband, Dean, loved to eat hamburgers from anywhere. It would pain him to see that we got some and he didn't. That's why we've kept these things our little secrets, to prevent that from happening. I look up to the mirror again, to see my son staring out the window, soaking in everything his eyes laid on. He always stared out the window on the road. He was either daydreaming, or trying to memorize the streets. But then yet, Lawrence wasn't really hard to forget. It was nice and stubble, good place for a family. Dean had his family here, and after we got married, we decided to come back to his home town. It was a good start.

After getting his Happy Meal, I set on to our house, eager to see Dean. I needed to see him after work, it was exhausting. I'm sure he was tired too, fixing cars and many of them at a time, it was time consuming. And when we see each other at home, it just takes one look for both of us to be brightened up. We'd embrace, kiss, question each other about our day, and then kiss again. I loved him with every fiber in my body. I wouldn't know who I would be if I didn't have Dean.

And that's when I glanced up to the traffic light to see that it was red. I pressed hard on the break, that made the car jerk forward. We landed on the edge of the third white lane on the street. I looked up to the mirror to find his fries on the floor of the car and his drink spilled all over his lap. Suddenly, I heard my son say a four letter word I've come to recognize. It started with an S, and that's when I turned around to say, "Son, where did you learn to talk like that?" I see him lift his eyes and look straight at me.

"I've been watching you Papa, Daddy says I'm your little Buckaroo, I want to be just like you." He replied. "Eat all my food, and grow as tall as you are." I stared at him, not caring about the green light. "We got navy ties and trenchcoats, we're just alike, aren't we Papa? I wanna do everything that you do! So I've been watching you!" He finished, with a smile. And that's when I realized, I have blurted out that word at least a couple times. Sometimes on accident, or when I was upset. And my little boy was copying the example I was setting for him. I turned back around, took a deep breath and started the car again, my eyes fighting back tears.