Work Text:
They were almost done with the hunt. It had been a very simple vengeful spirit case, and for the most part, it had gone without a hitch. Dean knew that even though nothing bad had happened in the end, he would still be hearing from John about it. There was no chance that his father would simply let it go. Dean had been raised to obey every order like a soldier all his life, and even as he and Sam now hunted without John and were both adults, his father still expected him to obey without question. It didn’t matter that Dean’s disobedience had been to save his little brother from getting hurt when the spirit suddenly attacked Sam, instead of just waiting at his post, ready to do his part when his father said so. It would have been the same as if he'd thrown the salt in his father’s eyes instead of at the spirit; the punishment would still be the same. “Disobedience is disobedience. You will never learn to obey if every act of rebellion isn’t held to the same standard,” his father liked to say. So Dean knew what was going to happen. His father was going to take him to Bobby's and try to take Sam with him. He knew that Dean hated to be alone, especially without his younger brother.
The car finally stopped at Bobby's place as it was getting dark, and Bobby, who had probably heard the car coming, was already standing outside waiting for them.
“Grab your bag, boy,” John gruffed angrily from the driver’s seat, and Dean went to get up from the car, knowing full well that his father wasn’t going to care that he did not own the car anymore, hadn’t owned it in years, and was going to drive away with it and Sam.
“Not you, Sam. You sit back in the car right now!” barked John at Dean's brother, who had also gotten out of the car. “Your brother disobeyed orders given to him, and he will have his punishment. If you don’t do as I say right now, you will be punished too!” Sam got out of the car even faster than he was originally doing and made his way to stand beside Dean, who had already grabbed his bags.
“Don’t bring Sam into this! It’s—”
“Don’t talk to me like that! I am your father!” John roared as he, too, got out of the car, shutting the door behind him violently.
“John, calm down a bit, won’t ya? What is going on?” Bobby asked, looking concernedly between the three men.
“Stay out of this,” John said angrily, and Bobby stayed nearby to keep an eye on the situation in case the clash escalated to physical violence.
“No, you’re not,” Dean said, biting back the feelings that swelled up inside him, threatening to escape in a violent storm.
“What did you say?” John asked, seemingly calm, as if daring his eldest son to say it again.
“I said you are not my father. You haven’t been my father for over 20 years. Not since Mom died,” Dean said angrily, stepping between his father and brother. Dean never wanted Sam to see this side of their family. He had always tried to keep his relationship with his father seemingly amicable in front of his younger brother. He had always wanted Sam to live as normal a life as possible, even though it was hard with their living situation when they were younger. If he could make it even a bit better by keeping Sam away from all the family drama, then so be it.
“...You...you insolent child! I raised you and Sam, and this is how you repay me!?”
“You didn't raise me! And I have never been a child. I raised myself, and I raised Sammy,” the dam broke, and Sam and Bobby watched as angry and sorrowful tears started to gather in the corners of Dean's eyes.
“I became a parent to an infant at the age of four when you were too depressed and vengeful to care for us. You abandoned two children who couldn’t take care of themselves and had just lost their mother tragically in a demonic fire.” Dean was now properly angry. “Where were you when Sam said his first words? Do you even know what they were?! Where were you when he took his first steps? Where were you when he had his first day of school? I was an hour late to my own class because I took Sam to his first day of school, and I left that day early so that I would be there to get him from school. Where were you when the other kids bullied Sam when he started at a new school? Where were you when Sam got so sick that he was delirious for three days? I had to call Bobby because you were nowhere to be seen. Where were you when I had to start stealing food because the money you left us didn’t even last three days? You were gone for eleven. You were never there.
“I endured your beatings and beratings just so Sammy had a chance at a somewhat normal childhood. Sammy never had stable housing before he went away for college. I had to raise a kid on the road at the age when I should’ve still held an adult’s hand while crossing the street. The only person who has been like a father to me since Mom died is Bobby. He helped me like you never did, and I could almost always call him and ask if I needed help. You are not my father, nor are you Sammy’s. You have never been a parent to Sammy; at least he doesn’t remember the time you were. Get out of my car and leave. I don’t care how, but I don’t ever want to see you again.” Tears were now freely falling down Dean's face, and his hands shook as he squeezed them hard into fists. Sam and Bobby, who had been listening to Dean's speech, woke from their trance. Sam wrapped his arms around Dean in a comforting hug while Bobby stepped between the brothers and John.
“I suggest you do as Dean said and leave now. Take your bags and go. I can bring you to the closest bus stop, but then you’re on your own.” Bobby turned to the brothers, who both had tears in their eyes.
“Sons, you can go get something to eat from the kitchen while I drop off John. I’ll be gone for 15 minutes.” Bobby turned back towards John and started displeasedly herding the other man towards his car, while Sam steered Dean by his shoulders towards Bobby's house.
When Bobby got back from dropping off John, he found the brothers sitting side by side on the sofa, both nursing a cup of tea. Both their eyes were red and puffy, and Bobby could see that they had been crying, with dried tear tracks crossing Dean's cheeks. He went and sat on the sofa on the other side of Dean.
“Ya know, I’m really proud of you, son. You’re kind, selfless, caring, and a hell of a hunter, even if that doesn’t matter much to me.” Dean sniffled a little and turned the tea mug in his hands.
“I was just so done. Done with everything,” he said quietly. Sam, who had said nothing and just hugged his brother's shoulder with his right arm, turned to speak, slightly choking on his words.
“Dean... I never understood how much you did for me. I knew you basically raised me and did things that parents should, but I never really stopped to think how much you actually did, and... I-I am so thankful for everything. The best moments from my childhood were with you when we did something together. Like when you took me to get ice cream for my birthday.” Sam smiled tearily at Dean.
“You were turning five, and I was so mad at myself because I couldn’t afford to get you anything else.” Dean took a small sip from his tea. “Do you know what your first word was?” Dean asked Sam, and Sam shook his head. Bobby knew the answer to this one. A young Dean had years ago called him in panic because he didn’t know what to do when John got back home.
“Your first word was ‘Dada,’” Dean said, and Sam looked confused. He didn’t believe that John or Dean had used their time to try and teach him to say “Dad.” When Dean saw his brother's slightly confused expression, he smiled softly and continued. “You called me ‘Dada.’ I had tried to get you to say my name, and you finally got the ‘D’ sound, but apparently ‘Dada’ was easier to pronounce than ‘Dede’ or ‘Dean.’ I was so scared of what would happen when John got back and heard you calling me ‘Dada’ that I tried to teach you every word I could imagine so you'd forget the first one. The one that stuck in the end was ‘fuck,’ and I’m not really proud of that.” Bobby listened to the story, and he felt bad for the two brothers. They had had a rough life, and it was not getting easier in this line of work. He promised that if nothing else, he'd try to give these boys even a bit of fatherly love and affection that they had lacked all their lives. He would try to make their lives even a bit happier if it was the last thing he did.
