Fighter | Supernatural [1]

Chapter Twenty-Three

        Callum sat on the bed of a small motel room, reading the book Sam had given him for Christmas as John sat at a table, looking through another book.

"It shouldn't be taking this long." Sam said as he paced the room. "I should go help."

"Dean's got it." John assured the twenty-three year old, who continued pacing. "Sammy."

"Yeah?" Sam asked, stopping where he was stood.

"I don't think I ever told you this but... the day you were born, you know what I did?" John asked the man.

"No."

"I put a hundred bucks into a savings account for you." John told him. "I did the same thing for your brother and Callum, cause knowing Dean, he probably didn't do the same. It was a college fund. And every month I'd put in another hundred dollars, until... Anyway my point is, Sam, this is never the life that I wanted for you."

"Then why'd you get so mad when I left?" Sam questioned.

"You gotta understand something." John said. "After your mother passed all I saw was evil, everywhere. And all I cared about was keeping you boys alive. I wanted you... prepared. Ready. Except somewhere along the line I... uh... I stopped being your father and I... I became your, your drill sergeant. So when you said that you wanted to go away to school, all I could think about, my only thought was," Sam sat down across from his father. "that you were gonna be alone. Vulnerable. Sammy, it just... it never occurred to me what you wanted. I just couldn't accept the fact that you and me - We're just different."

Sam let out a laugh, glancing at Callum who was clearly listening in despite making it seem like he was engrossed in his book.

"What?" John questioned.

"We're not different." Sam told him. "Not anymore. With what happened to Mom and Jess..." He laughed. "Well we probably have a lot more in common than just about anyone."

"I guess you're right, son." John smiled.

"Hey, Dad? Whatever happened to that college fund?" Sam asked.

"Spent it on ammo." John admitted. "Except for Callum's, of course."

The two men began to laugh, Callum joining in after a moment.

"Whew." Dean said as he entered the room. "Man, some heavy security to protect a bunch of dead guys."

"Get it?" John asked. Dean held up a paper back, pulling out a large bottle of blood. "You know what to do."

        Callum hid in some bushes, looking out at his father, who was making it look like he was fixing the Impala's engine to lure the vampires out. The six year old had a loaded compound crossbow in hand, ready to help if necessary.

Sam and John were also nearby, with crossbows too. Each arrow they had was laced in dead man's blood, which was supposed to weaken the vampires.

The young boy watched as a woman, the one from his vision, approached his father.

"Car trouble?" The woman asked, causing Dean to turn. "Let me give you a lift. I'll take you back to my place."

"Nah I'll pass." Dean grinned. "I usually draw the line at necrophilia."

"Oooh." The woman said before hitting Dean across the face, knocking him down.

Two other vampires approached as the woman lifted Dean up by the face, Callum trying his best not to shoot until he knew it was safe.

"I don't usually get this friendly until the second date but..." Dean said, though it was muffled.