of fatherhood - "Supernatural" fic - PG

[tigriswolf]

Title: of fatherhood

Fandom: “Supernatural”

Disclaimer: not my characters; just for fun.

Warnings: SPOILERS for “The Kids Are Alright”

Pairings: none

Rating: PG

Wordcount: 500

Point of view: third

 

It isn’t easy to get on with his life, but Ben does. He remembers that night in the cage, the night Dean saves him, fights off the monster in human form, the night he wishes that his father—whoever Dad was—could’ve been Dean instead.

Mom’s always been tactile, but after that night she’s hugging and kissing all the time, proving he’s him and not something else, something other. Everything is changed that night.

Everything.

But still, life goes on. Mom takes greater care with playdates, pays more attention to the news—when Dean’s face and the words “wanted dead or alive” scroll across the screen, she just sighs and whispers, “Damnit, you fool.”

“Mom?” Ben asks, just turned nine. “What’re they after him for?”

She shakes her head, wiping at her eyes.

 

It isn’t till he’s twelve, and mostly forgotten that night, when he asks, out of the blue at supper, “Mom, is Dean my dad?”

She meets his eyes and her gaze slides away. “No, sweetie,” she lies. “He’s not.”

 
               He’s fifteen when he sees Dean again, on the news in handcuffs, being led into court for over a dozen murders in a handful of states.
              Ben spends the next three weeks researching every aspect of the trial, and cheers when Dean escapes from the media circus under the nose of the FBI.

 

            He never does figure out why Mom lied. She dies when he’s twenty and he turns around at the wake to see Dean at the back of the room, his brother beside him.

            Dean slowly walks up to him, the brother—Sam, Ben thinks his name is—hanging back.

            “Hey, kiddo,” Dean says softly. “How you doin’?”

            “I’ve had better years,” he answers, something burning behind his eyes, remembering how safe he felt when this man showed up in that dark basement and fought the monster.

            Ben hasn’t cried yet. He’s the same height as Dean, and he hasn’t cried yet, but when Dean reaches out to touch his shoulder, Ben just folds up, his legs collapsing beneath him. Dean catches him, lowering them to the ground.

            “I got ya, Ben,” Dean whispers.

            He’s older now, of course, but Ben feels eight again, held safe by the hero, and Mom’s dead and he has no idea what to do, but Dean’s here, Dean’s here, and he’ll know.

            “Are you sure,” he mutters into Dean’s chest, curled up as much as he can be, “that you’re not my dad?”

            Dean chuckles brokenly, body still sure and strong, and answers, “Your mama told me I wasn’t.”

            Ben nods, letting Dean hold his weight. “I think she lied.”

            “Yeah.” Dean’s hand rubs circles onto his back. “I think so, too.”

 

            Dean sits at the kitchen table, Ben across from him and Sam on his right, and tells Ben everything.

            It was a normal car accident that killed Mom, but there’s things out there, things like that monster from the basement, and someone needs to take care of them.

 

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[tigriswolf]

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