Summary: After Dean is hurt on a hunt, John abandons him at the local hospital. Can Dean ever forgive him, and, more importantly, when John comes back for him, will Dean agree to go?
Disclaimer: I am a poor starving college student. I do not own Supernatural (damn you Kripke!) or anything related to it except my own, poor pitiful little plotline. Please don't sue. Comprende?
Rating: T for some colorful language
Author's Note: Here is the epilogue: enjoy. I should not that this gives no perspective into John's idiotic decision into leaving Dean; sorry guys.
On a personal note: if you are leaving a negative review: Please do not leave reviews like "this ending---sucked." While I do not mind negative reviews, please leave constructive criticism on what could be done better. If you don't, I will delete your review (in the case of an anonymous review), or I might be tempted to reply back with some snarky comment (in the case of a signed-in reviewer).
"This is disgusting," Dean said to his brother as he set the key card to the motel room down, shaking his head as he stepped over the long-neck glass bottles of cheap beer, waving his friend in front of his nose to try and get the smell of stale air to move around. "How long has it been?"
"Three days," Sam answered. They were in Glasgow, Wyoming, and John had looked like he put back another twelve-pack, passed out on "Sam's" bed. Dean set the duffle bag in the corner.
"All right…go get some trash bags, um, some Lyesol…and some food. You need something to eat." He handed him some of Elijah's money, a twinge of guilt passing through him. "And…whatever else you think of. But be sensible."
Sam nodded, leaving the room. Dean sighed, heading towards his father. "C'mon, Dad," he snapped, pulling him up, hearing the man grumble. "Let's get you sober." His voice had a biting sting to it, but John was so incapacitated that he didn't hear it. Dean managed to pull John towards the shower, shoving him in, turning on the cold water.
"What the fu-" John's eyes opened wide as he shouted, stopping when he saw Dean. "Oh, God-"
"Hi," Dean nearly snarled. "What were you thinking? You're supposed to be his father, not the drunk!"
"Dean, you're here-" John whispered, and Dean shook his head, slapping away the man's hand when he reached out to touch him. "Dean-"
"I don't want to hear it. Stay under there until you're alcoholed out, okay?"
"Where did you come from?"
"Your son found me. How is that, anyone? You let the thirteen-year-old teenager drive the damn Impala! What if he had crashed the car? What if he-"
John reached forward with a sudden quickness, wrapping his son in a hug that soaked Dean and his leather jacket. Dean's whole body went rigid, his hands forming fists as the man squeezed tighter. "I missed you so much."
"I'm sure," Dean replied, pushing the man away. "Sober up, huh, get dressed? I'm gonna try to get the mess you made in there cleaned up before Sam gets back."
"I can't believe you're here-"
"Well, considering the last time I saw you, you had dumped me at a hospital, that might be one topic you don't want to hit on at this moment in time. I'll be in there."
After John changed, he could hear Dean moving around in the room, the ping of bottle against bottle taking up most of the silence. Guilt swept through him like it was an eighteen-wheeler with a vengeance, and John wondered how he would explain this to Dean.
He wouldn't, he knew, but thinking that he might actually do something this once gave him enough courage to walk into the room, pick up a bottle, and offering it to Dean as a truce. Dean looked at it wearily, letting out a breath as he took it. "This doesn't mean I forgive you. And I want you to know, that had it just been you, and had Sam not been part of this, I wouldn't be here."
"That's not an apology, Dad. That's not even close. And it's not going to work this time-the half-hearted ones. You just left me somewhere, didn't care what happened, and that's going to be something you get to live with until I feel you've done enough groveling for it to be an apologetic gesture."
"Don't, Dad; I don't care at this point in time. I don't know when I'll start caring. Until then, just leave me alone." John nodded, retreating back to his own bed, studying his son. He watched as Dean extended his arm, the pale pink of a fading scar going down his arm. John wasn't sure how Dean survived being attacked, but some how, there he was, whole and solid.
"Where did you stay?" John asked, and Dean looked up. "After-"
"A doctor took me in. His name is Elijah. He's the one who fixed my arm, for the most part, anyway, and he's the one who removed a part of my liver and he's the one that took me in when someone didn't bother coming back for me."
"Dean-" John offered as a warning; his son was starting to get a little too snappish with him.
Dean sighed, throwing down the bottle in his hand, watching it smash into the floor. "Did you even care?" he yelled, eyes darkening. "When you took Sam from me, left me in that hospital without anything but my name, did you care? At all?"
His son shook his head, turning from the man. "I guess you really didn't. You know, Elijah wanted me to stay. I wanted to stay, because at least someone cared about me for once. But I didn't. You just…just remember that." He stopped talking as the door opened, Sam coming back in.
"Hi, Dad," he whispered, and John offered him a tight smile. "Dean, I got-"
"Just get a bag out, let's start putting this stuff in there." He offered no look to John, and instead picked up a piece of the broken bottle, throwing it away.
Later, as he sat up, long after Sam and John had fallen asleep, he stared at the phone, reaching to pick it up. He dialed the number carefully, cradling it in between his shoulder and ear as he glanced at the other two people in the room. He held his breath, waiting…one ring, two rings…
"Are you okay? Everything's okay there?"
"Yeah, um…everything's fine. Well, not back to normal, but it's gonna be awhile before that happens. How's everything there?"
It went on for an hour, and in that time, Dean realized that he wouldn't ever be abandoned again. He'd always have someone there, another brother by a totally different family, who could be reached day and night-even if it was just over the phone.
Over the years, he used that ability. When Sam left, he spent two hours on the phone with Elijah, and when he met Cassie, there was another call. When he had to leave Cassie because of John, when Sam returned to the fold, when Jessica died…
Sam remembered the call he had to place when Dean's heart was hurt. He remembered Elijah offering to come up, take a look himself, and Dean's quiet refusal. When they got the Colt, when John finally came back, when Dean was critically injured, when John died. All events Elijah heard about, but was always told to stay in Triton and to stay safe.
He saw the news about them being wanted criminals-and he, of course, didn't believe it. He heard about Lillith, about Ruby, about when Sam died (but not about the deal), and about Devil's Gates. And he heard about the Winchesters last mission, to find and kill Lillith.
He did come to town when Dean died, though, and he mourned with Sam and Bobby. When Dean came back, he decided that it was best not to shock the life out of the man by explaining the situation.
Dean decided that's where it ended.