Title: Family Portrait
Summary: Dean, Sam and Jack ruminate on each other. Told in the first person.
Disclaimer: I own Jack, but not the boys but y'all knew that already.
Actions speak louder than words, right? Well Dean can talk for hours about nothing at all, he can bullshit his way out of any situation, except when it comes to cops. Then the man can't seem to keep his big mouth shut. Its not the b.s. that tells about the man though. Its his actions, the subtle nuances. The way he gets coffee even when we're at each others throats and finds a way of comforting Sam without compromising what makes him Dean. When something really matters though, that's when you should listen close to what Dean says.
"You okay little brother?" He'll call from down on the ground after something nasty has just come close to kicking our collective asses.
When he looks away for a second, not quite meetin my eye and speaks I know what he just said has more honesty than what most people say in a year. Cause that's what he does. Its harder for him to find the words. Sam with me, if it weren't for Sam we'd be mutes when the serious shit hit the fan, only speaking of tactics and fighting. But that's okay cause "Don't let him get your blind spot." And "Damnit don't what were you thinking!" Really mean "I've had stitch you up once this week, lets not repeat." and "I don't like seeing you get hurt."
Dean's got more guilt than anyone else I've ever met. It comes with the territory of having to take care of people all your life, being someone's safety net but feeling like no one is yours. That last part…that just isn't true. Dean has people at his back and I know he knows that somewhere deep down inside. I hope he knows that deep down inside. Tucson still haunts him. I'd kill that thing a thousand times over if it meant he'd stop blaming himself, but I can't an he won't. He carries around the weight of that dead woman on his shoulders. He even has her obit tucked into that box of photos of his family before the demon killed Mary. I feel weird calling her Mary. Lets just stick with Sam and Dean's mom. Alright?
He let me see the pictures. It was a big deal, though none of us spoke about it. He trusted me to look at them before everything went bad. I almost didn't want to touch them, it was something clean, not bad and I didn't want any of me on them. Does that make sense? Probably not. He's so protective of those vestiges of the past, and he was so proud when I told him how beautiful his mom was. Grinned from ear to ear and sort of shrugged awkwardly. It was cute.
Sometimes I wonder about what he'll do if the demon is ever found and killed. Keep hunting is the most logical conclusion, but I don't think John wants to do this forever. Will Dean be able to deal with that? Dean doesn't think Sam will want to stay this way either, I don't know about that. I'll still be here though, if I survive that long.
Would he still want me around if it was him and me on the open road? I can't imagine this ride without Sammy there.
Dean is a caretaker, a protector. I think even if things hadn't gone down the way they did, he'd still be like that. Its just the way Dean is. I imagine if he wasn't a hunter he'd be something that helps people. Not a cop, bleh, he ain't bacon material. But like a firefighter or paramedic or something like that. Maybe a rescue worker.
Sometimes I want to hit John when he orders Dean around from far away. I get that things need to be done but seriously, dud, he's your son, not you cadet. Sam will turn around and tell him to go to hell. Not the best approach. When Dean raises his voice to John (I've only seen this done once) its shocking. He put his foot down when John tried to send us on a job too soon after that (cough)incident. He even hung up on him. I thought maybe I was mixing meds and was seeing things.
I get Dean. I always have. I know where he's coming from. I'm surprised when other people don't. I mean is it that hard to decipher? According to Sam yes, yes it is.
I'm so tired. Its early as shit and I know in a minute Dean's gonna walk through the door and tell me to move my ass. Sure enough.
"Jack, you up?" He's asking as he walks through the door. Damn him and his wakefulness, he's obviously already had his coffee.
"Mhmsd." That's me, Miss Verbal Communication.
"I don't speak lazy ass." Dean says as I stumble to my feet.
"Coffee?" I ask rubbing my eyes.
"Your breath reeks." He grins. I punch him in the arm and he laughs.
"Brush your teeth then you can have some." He says moving the coffee holder behind his back. I eye him suspiciously. He better have done domething to that coffee, he already got me back for the chili powder thing. He put fucking MAGNETS on my head!
"Just go." He says steering me to the bathroom. A short shower later I'm minty fresh and wanted my caffeine in an i.v. taped to my arm.
"Coffee." Is the first thing I say. Sam looks up from the table. He came back while I was in the shower, but now Dean's gone missing.
"We gotta work on your communication skills." Sam says and pushes a Starbucks cup in my direction.
"Starbucks?" I ask eyeing the cup. It looks like one of those fancy coffees Dean says he wouldn't be caught dead ordering.
"Dean got it. Don't worry its safe." Sam laughs at the way I eye the cup like its going to bite me. Its Dean though so you can't be too careful.
I lift up the cup and take a tentative sip and low and behold its not booby trapped.
"Good?" Sam asks with an eyebrow raised in amusement. I can only nod.
I remember something about telling Dean this was m favorite awhile back.
"God your up, now get your ass in gear." Dean says coming back inside. I don't need to say thank you and he doesn't need to acknowledge the moment.
Its little things like that that make Dean, Dean.