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Tittle: Words
Pairing; none
Rating: GEN
Characters: John Winchester, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Pastor Jim, OFC, mentions of Mary Winchester.
Kinks: family, fluff, not an ass John, character’s death (not main and mostly implied)
***

Sam’s first word was Dee, the second was banana, don’t ask; he’s always being weird.

Dean’s first word was mom, the second was please, again don’t judge, he was special, even for Winchester standards.

But the thing about words when you’re a Winchester is that you follow it to the letter, and the one who has the last one is Dad. Always! You also, only have your word, and you better keep it.

John saw as Dean did exactly as he said, preparing salt shells, Sammy was sitting in front of the TV reading a book, the kid was weird, reading at his age.

“Well done Deannie.” He said as he got up, it was about time for dinner and he had put one of those easy meal things in the oven like 40 minutes before, so he got up as Dean cleaned the table and Sam went to wash his hands.

The table was set and all three of them were already seated when the phone rang; it was really early on in the Winchester family history, with the almost permanent places because back in the days there was no mobile phones, so dad had to got up and go to the phone, it was Pastor Jim , he needed help with a hunt as soon as John could get in the car. “Sadly that’s all the information I have about this specific creature; John…” he had said in a mumble. “All I know is that by the new moon on January 30, it’ll be gone to a different town.”

“You know I can’t… not this week….”

“I know, and I wouldn’t as you if I had another option but I have to…” the sound of a screech and then silence left John Winchester worried.

“Are you there Jim?” nothing. “JIM!”

Something sounded as if slamming against stuff and John turned his back to his worried kids. “Are you there Jim?”

“gonna need your help Winchester, seriously… I’m gonna need all the help I can get… there are like ten of this…” another silence and groans and sound of shots. “find more hunters John I left the place and I’ll pick you guys up.”
***

Dean saw as his dad moved around the house towards the door, everything that was important that day and the prior days erased from his head, just seeing dad going out could do that to him. He could see pastor Jim’s family car was on the drive way already waiting.

“Obey your brother, Sammy, and be good for him.” The kid nodded and smiled showing his adorable dimples promising he’d be good.
“I’m counting on it.” His dad warned.

John kissed the little head as he turned to his eldest. “Watch out for your brother.” He said as he hugged Dean. “I’ll be back before you wake up, I promise, and Terry.” A lady hunter they had for dinner a couple times. “Will come and check on you in an hour okay?” Dean repeated his usual yessir while his dad kisses him good bye.

“I love you boys.”
A choir of “I love you” followed him as he left the house.

***

Terry never came, and Dean was scared, it was the first time they were all alone, and the first time a hunter didn’t keep their word. Sam cried for a while scared but finally with Dean’s gentle reassurance, fell asleep.

“Dad will be back before breakfast” He repeated even after Sammy had his eyes closed and were snuffling, to calm himself.
***

Dean woke up with the sound of voices and grunts; Pastor Jim helped his dad to the couch and left again to burn Terry’s remains and get a biggest first aid kit.

“Dad?” he had tears in his eyes and had to hold the frame of the door to stop his arms from tremble. Dad was limping and grunting, there was something wrong; he had bruises and dirt on his face and his clothes, his pants were ripped and there were blood, and it was still coming out, he could see a long line where the blood came out pulsing, is not like on TV, real blood is like syrup, but darker and smells kinda sweet. And it scared him to see dad hurt; suddenly the smell of burning wood and heat and too much light, and fear and cold came crashing on him it was flooding his head, in his head and he wanted to cry and run and call for mom, in his head the smell of sweet syrupy blood could be felt from Sammy’s nursery.

“Dean…?” John couldn’t move himself, he was hurt. “Listen to me Dee, it’s okay, it’s okay, I’m here.” But even with his arms extended toward his kid Dean didn’t move close.
“Are you too hurt?” Dean sniffled when his dad said yes. “Are you… are you going to … are you going to leave… like mom?”

“NO!” John spoke louder than he wanted startling his son. “Dean.” he said softly to calm him and offered his arms once more, finally Dean got closer. “I’m not going anywhere okay? I’m your dad and I’ll be here… for you and Sammy until you’re old and until we have nothing else to hunt and we get a house and you two go to college and live boring normal lives, okay?” Dean Sniffled. “Hey...” Dad shook his little shoulder a bit making Dean look up. “Okay?”

“okay… but I’m…” he buried his little blonde head against his dad’s chest sobbing, John just knew, as any other dad in the world could tell what every sound on his child really meant.

“Dean, listen to me … listen Dee… are you scared?” John asked breathing hard. Dean for a moment had no idea of how to answer to that; he didn’t want to disappoint his dad. “Its okay, it’s okay to be scared. I know I am.” Dean started crying again as he nodded.
“Good! Good, because being scared is good, it means you are brave enough to fight even afraid, and fight that fear.” A hand landed on Dean’s head caressing the short hair. “Means you’re smart, and that you care, only heroes get scared and keep going.” His bloody hand wrapped around Dean stopping the lithe trembling body against his chest for along moment. “Now, let’s take a deep breath.” He did just that still holding Dean and smiled when his son stood a little away to do the same looking to his face.

“Good, I’m gonna explain you what you have to do now, step by step, okay? So don’t freak out…” Dean nodded. “And tomorrow, we’ll take a day off and we’ll go wherever you want to go, to the movies… or any other place you want to go, okay?” Dean nodded again still breathing deep and composing himself, such a brave little boy. “Where is your brother?”

“He’s sleeping; I closed the bedroom door… so he won’t listen…” John nodded as he patted his son’s arm.

“Good, good, you did well, that’s very smart.” he turned his eyes to his bleeding leg, the gash visible among the shreds of fabric.” He won’t understand what’s happening.” Dean touches dad’s leg, right where the blood was oozing, even over the tight bandage attached to it. “It’s just a cut; you don’t have to be afraid. Jim will be back in a moment and he’ll help me out, okay?” Dean nodded. “All you have to do is keep me company so I don’t fall asleep. Can you help me out with that?”

Dean Nodded. “I can do that.”

“I know you can…” Dean smiled and started talking about everything important to a kid, from food to cartoons to bugs they found against the Impala’s window, he told him about everything as if it were a story; checking on him every couple minutes to be sure his dad was still listening to him. It was endearing, and John heard every word, smiling and chuckling at his kids’ antics, but it lasted less than an hour and even with the towel he added over the wound the blood flow didn’t stop.

“How do we make it stop?” asked Dean seeing the blood pooling on the floor around his father’s feet.

“You can’t.” Dean looked at him in the eye as if he were about to say I’m sorry. “But is not your fault, I’ll be fine.” Dean let out a whimper. “It’s my turn to tell you a story…” he tried smiling. “Go fetch my journal.” While Dean obeyed John took his belt and looped it over Jim’s and tightened the tourniquet holding back a groan of pain.

He was done by the time Dean came back with his journal and a weak smile; Stories from dad’s journal were always about evil monsters defeated by heroes; hunters like dad, when the boys were too small to train, this stories were lessons on weapons and tactics, and lore, how to defeat as many creatures as they found on the road that’ll last for the rest of their lives. To them the epic legends told by their father will always be fond memories, closeness and magic from their broken family’s bonding times.

Instead of opening a page that was already written John went for a clean one. “I’ll tell you a story about a princess, the bravest, most amazing, beautiful princess.” he started drawing a chain and added a bunch of shapes linked to it, it was a bracelet, Dean saw as his dad draw a cross a star of David, a circle with some signs inside, and many other he knew, icons from different religions, every three links there was one. But there was one space empty. “Mom was the princess?”

Dad nodded. “Yes, it was her, and she was brave always, just like you; and she fought hard for her family and loved her soldier very much, even when the soldier didn’t deserve to have her with him. She knew of monsters before us, and she always did her best to protect us from them because she was awesome, just like you …” Dean smiled the brightest at the small praise and John felt like crying.

“… and Sammy.”

“Yeah… Sammy too.” Dean beamed at the mention of his brother and it broke John’s heart a little. “She had this bracelet, filled with tokens, and the soldier bought her every token she asked for it, except one, it’s the head of a Mesopotamian demon.” Dean gasped. “But demons…”

John chuckled. “Not all demons are bad, this specific one…? This one is the Bull-man helps people fight evil and chaos. He holds the gates of dawn open for the sun god Shamash and supports the Sun.” Dean nodded. “I searched everywhere; asked everyone and nobody could tell me where to get it.”

Dean giggled. “I thought she’d be angry at me, because… it was the first time I failed her, instead, she let out a sigh and made cherry pie every night I said I’m sorry I couldn’t get you one.” John’s hand caressed he back of Dean’s head, feeling his hands numb and his entire body cold. “We’ll finish the story but I have to do a couple things first, okay?”

“Okay…” Dean nodded rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“Now I need…” he made it a game to not scare Dean even more. “go get the white box, the big one from the bathroom, and then the brown bottle from my nightstand.”

Dean nodded; John just knew he couldn’t wait any longer the smell of blood had filled the entire place and he felt cold and dizzy for the blood loss, he pressed the wound for a little longer while Dean brought the mentioned items and then looked at his dad with trusting giant eyes.

“Now go check on Sammy…” John finally said. “Not just a peek, stay there for a while make sure he’s really, really asleep, okay?” Dean nodded once more, John knew that the kid would do whatever he asked as a good little soldier; that he would’ve helped him with this without question or complain, but you can’t do that to a kid.

As Dean disappeared through the door John prepared a needle and drank a big gulp of whiskey; he untied his wound and pressed a new pad on it feeling how it got soaked through in seconds, he took the bottle and emptied a little bit of the liquid on the wound hissing to stop the groan or eve scream coming out of him. He put three stitches after he searched for the severed vessel, he put few more stitches, three to be exact over the worst of the bleeding and it lessened.

With a sigh of relief and another gulp of liquid courage John kept working. The blood flow reduced to a simple dripping when he finally rose his eyes to find Dean; the kid was there Surprised, looking at his dad with obvious fear. “It’s okay Dee, I’m fine.” A weak nod was all the answer the frighten little boy could muster. “You’re being very brave Dean, very brave, is Sammy asleep?”

That made Dean focus in something else than the blood pooling next to the couch. He looked up and said yes, his brother was asleep. “Good! I’d be lost without you, my brave boy.”

But the sound of the door opening made the kid jump as pastor Jim entered the small house, a giant red backpack on his shoulder, face bruised worse than when he left; the d burnt flesh still in his clothes. “I’m sorry John… hello Dean, I’m sorry it took me this long.” The man put the backpack in the couch next to John. “There was one left… feeding off of Terry remains…” he got quiet at the murderous glare John gave him. “Yeah… I guess Dean didn’t have to hear that.” John made a face. “I’ll keep all the other… gore-y details for later.”
“Thank you.” John Winchester told him as he pulled Dean closer to him.

“Yeah... sorry. I see you have things figured out…” he said impressed of how neat the wound had been stitched. “There’s nothing left for me to do.”

John tightened his grip on Dean’s back. “My boy here, he did all the work.” Dean looked down embarrassed.

“Amazing, great work very soon you’re not gonna need anyone else Winchester, with Dean doing all this for you…”

“Very soon we’ll catch that YED bastard and we’ll be regular people with boring lives.” Dean looked up at his dad; that was a promise he had heard over and over for the last year and a half.

“Go to bed Dean…” asked dad with a soft hug and a kiss on his hair. “Make sure Sammy is warm and safe, okay? I’ll be there in a moment.”

Dean only answered with a soft yes sir and then hugged his dad. “You sure you’ll be okay?” he asked biting his bottom lip and looking nonstop to the half stitched wound on his thigh.

John smiled cocky. “I’m a Winchester, just like you, we’re special… I’ll be fine. All this will be a nightmare by tomorrow morning.” Dean smiled and did as he was told

***
Dean woke up startled, Sammy was playing quietly with Dean’s plastic soldiers over the bed –even if he already lost one in the car- and Dean turned to the door, he couldn’t hear anything.

“Dee…” Sammy turned to his big brother. “Daddy home?”

“I’ll go see okay?” Dean jumped off the bed and ran to check on his dad dreading his bad dream was not a bad dream.

Dad was finishing with bacon and eggs and pouring orange juice in Dean’s glass and Sammy’s sippy cup. “There you are…” John said with a giant smile. “Guess you don’t really remember what day is today?”

And Dean remembered, he’d been so worried he forgot. “Happy Birthday Dean!” Dad shouted and Sammy screeched from the bedroom repeating it over and over as he ran to hug his older brother.

They ate a delicious breakfast and Dad took them to go karts, bought them corn dogs and ice cream, and let them get in as many rides as they wanted in a amusement park. Sam and Dean were so high in sugar they ran and ran and shouted and screamed all day long. It only once worried Dean that his father had the same limp he saw in his dreams. But it was a dream his dad did not bleed all over the couch, he checked there was no blood or any stain there.

John made sure to clean everything up, his kid had asked one thing during the entire time since Christmas; he just wanted to be a regular kid for his birthday.

By dinner time Dad took them to a restaurant and they asked for whatever they wanted. And then the entire place sang happy birthday to Dean, he got shy and even cried a little, off course a 6 y.o. – sorry!! 7 y.o. now - can’t deal with attention, especially when everyone is looking at him and commenting on what a handsome, polite, sweet kid he is.

John hugged him when he started crying as the entire place clapped after he blew the candles, and when Sammy joined everyone started cooing and fawning over the adorable kids.

Imagine how hard was for John to take both kids out of the car at the same time when asleep.

“Daddy?” mumbled Dean still almost asleep as Dad left him in bed next to a diapered Sammy –just in case because he’s a big boy now-
“Hey dee… did you enjoyed your birthday?”

“Yup… a lot…” and he yawned turning on the bed. “Please never go with mom… please?”

John smiled sad, almost crying and caressing the blond little head kissed it. “I’ll be here kid, for as long as I can…”

“Promise?”

John had to clean the tears from his face and steel his voice. “I give you my word.”

“Okay… your word…”

“My word…” John repeated. “Love you Deanie.”

“Love you dad.”

John did his best, he has no idea what had been his first word, and he never knew his last words would be to Dean to tell him he was proud of him, but he did his best to keep his word to his son; even if the kid forgot about that night. For Hunters and specially for Winchester’s your word, is important.

The end
____
hope this is what you wanted.it came kinda sad...