spikeysgrl18 | Fic: Fell On Black Days (Supernatural)

This is my entry for

picfor1000. I got done way early, amazingly. This was inspired, believe it or not, by this picture. But let me tell you, keeping this to 1,000 words only was a pain. First it was too short, then too long, now it's just right ;)

Title: Fell On Black Days

Author: Jami

Fandom: Supernatural

Characters: Sam, Dean, John
Rating: 13
Summary: On days like these, when life was so screwed up and Dean felt completely terrified, a nod from his Dad was what got him through.
Warnings: Spoilers for Everybody Loves a Clown.
Disclaimer: I own nothing; all the characters belong to the genius Kripke, and their respective producers/distributors. I make no money off this. I wish I did, but I don’t.

Dean was standing stiffly, staring unflinchingly at the body of his father as it went up in flames when the strangest, most random of memories came to him. The fire, stretching toward the sky and crackling from the strain of it, had him mesmerized and his gaze grew distant, even Sam’s look of worry and sadness couldn’t wake him from his stupor.

He remembered the first time that Dad had taken him camping.

They had joined a few family friends for a boy’s night out and John, so proud of his then only son, insisted on bringing a three year old Dean along. His mother was a little reluctant to let her son wander the woods at such a young age, but Dad had promised to keep a watchful eye on him the whole time.

He kept that promise. It was one of the last times he could remember seeing his father laughing and smiling, truly happy.

Their second venture into the woods had been years later and under vastly different circumstances.

There was no fishing that time. No scary stories told around the campfire, it wasn’t needed. Life was enough of a nightmare.

Sam kept to himself, playing with one of the few toys that Dad had brought with them on their travels. Dean had sat, unsure what to do as John had loaded his shotgun and kept an ear and eye open for anything lurking in the dark.

There was an old rusted coffee pot nestled among the campfire and Dad had warned him not to touch it. When he had turned his back though, Dean had stealthily reached for it, curiosity and determination a foolish combination. He had stifled a pained hiss when fingers touched heated metal but John heard it, turning to see what happened. Dean had tried to play it off like nothing had happened, but he knew that his father had known.

After a beat and a contemplative stare, he had reached down into the small duffle bag at his feet and handed Dean the small first aid kit sitting inside. There was no lecture, no shaking of the head or mutterings of reproof. Then he was back to assembling and cleaning his gun.

Their car was parked a few feet away, just off the nearest path nestled among the trees and tall grass. He remembered hearing the lightest rustling of leaves, nothing more, and Dad had them up and moving. With Sammy’s hand tightly grasped in his, he remembered feeling their father’s strong hands pushing insistently on his back, whispering to him to get in the car, lock the doors and lay on the floor until he came back.

And take care of Sammy. If Dean did nothing else, he had to take care of Sam.

It was nearly a half an hour until he had heard footsteps, loud and lumbering, nearing the car. His heart had sped up, beating so fast he was almost sure it could be heard by whoever was outside. Sammy’s hand was still wrapped around his own, gripping it tightly as they lay there with bated breath.

It was only when he heard the key turn in the door that Dean had dared to look up and his breath left him in a rush of relief when he saw their father, a little worse for wear but alive nonetheless, climbing into the driver’s seat.

Sam had still been shaking when Dean helped him up onto the backseat and buckled him in safely. The car started up, they were probably heading to Bobby’s, that’s where they had been going before this little impromptu hunting trip, and John had glanced over his shoulder, eyes meeting Dean’s. He didn’t say anything. He never said anything, he just gave him a nod and turned back to the road ahead.

Some kids lived to hear a kind word from their fathers. But Dean, he lived for that damn nod. It said more than anything words could. Dad was proud of him, he had done good, and on days like these, when life was so screwed up and Dean felt completely terrified, a nod from his Dad was what got him through.

Feeling a hand on his shoulder, Dean was pulled from his memories abruptly, feeling absurdly angry at Sam for disturbing him. He barely resisted the immediate urge to slap his hand away and glare at him. But Sam was hurting just as much as he was, the kid didn’t need him to act like an asshole on top of everything else.

“Dean?”

“Yeah, Sammy?” he asked gruffly, trying to tune out the pain and grief in his brother’s voice. There was a reason he avoided emotional conversations and right now he really couldn’t handle much more of this.

“What are you—Are you okay?” Sam stammered, unsure what to say or do.

“Yeah, I’m just…remembering,” he mumbled, eyes still glued morbidly on the fire in front of them.

Sam’s expression was curious, questioning and Dean silently cursed at his need to elaborate.

“You remember the Catskills?” Dean said mutedly.

“Oh…yeah,” he nodded slowly.

Of course Sam remembered. It was impossible to forget any aspect of their completely bizarre childhood. But there were things Sam would never understand. He had just been too young. Now Sam was grieving, a mixture of sadness and guilt because the last day they were together he spent most of the time picking one fight after the other. Dad wouldn’t have blamed Sam. Dean had been dying, the kid had been stressed out, to say the least. Besides, when those two were in the same room, they fought. They couldn’t help it.

Dean had to be strong now, he wasn’t allowed the luxury of guilt and sadness. He had to be strong. He always had to be strong. He had to take care of Sammy. Just like always. He’d do Dad proud.

But he’d give anything to see Dad give him that damn nod, just one last time.