The First Five Holidays... 3/5
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Chapter 3
Dean’s Birthday
John knew he was missing something when the kids came over for supper in mid-January, but he just couldn’t put his finger on why Sam and Tricia and Daphne suddenly went silent-even in Sign-when Dean walked in.
Dean noticed it, too, and paused. “... what?”
Nothing. In unison.
You not planning surprise party, are you?
John frowned. Surprise party? For what?
Sam grinned. Maybe.
Dean snorted. I shoot somebody, it your fault.
Noted.
And I want pie this time.
Noted. Sam winked.
And suddenly John remembered. Dean’s birthday was coming up in a week!
John thought back, trying to remember the last birthday of Dean’s they’d celebrated. There was his 16th, when John gave him the car, but before that...
... his fourth.
That was it.
Dammit, John, he raged at himself, how the hell did you get so obsessed with hunting that you couldn’t remember to celebrate your own son’s birthday?!
Dean nudged him. “Thinking too hard.”
John sighed. “Just realizing again what a damned idiot I’ve been.”
“What this time?”
“Your birthday.”
What about?
“The fact we never had a party once after the fire, and I only now realized it. That’s just... inexcusable. Unforgivable. Dean, I am so, so sorry.”
Dean’s face went blank. He shrugged. “That’s just the way it was,” he said softly.
“It shouldn’t have been.”
“No, but it was.”
“His birthday wasn’t forgotten,” Sam smiled. “We had our own traditions.”
John sighed. “I still should have done something. Been a better father. Hell, even in ’Nam, I made sure we did something when a guy in the platoon had a birthday.”
Past is past.
“You’re here now,” Sam added. “You can’t fix what was, but you can do better with what is.”
Dean nodded.
John nodded as well. “I’ll try.”
All we ask, Dad.
John managed to smile a little at that. Dean clapped him on the shoulder and went on about whatever he was doing.
All too soon, though, it was time for his kids to leave and John was alone again. And he thought long and hard about Dean and about his upcoming birthday. Boy was about to turn 27... that was a lot of missed birthdays. They were right; he couldn’t make up for the past. But maybe he could make the present better.
Christmas had given him both a better idea of the boys’ tastes and the confidence to order things online... so he fired up the computer and headed to Amazon.com.
And was interrupted by a knock on his door.
Frowning, John went to answer it. A second later he was sent flying backwards by a slap that he would later swear broke the sound barrier.
“What was that for?!”
“For Bill.” And Ellen Harvelle was walking into his house like she owned the place.
“Ellen, what... why....”
“Owed you that. Payment’s delivered. How the hell are you, John?”
John had to swallow hard a couple of times before he could answer. “I’m all right, Ellen. Thanks.”
“Good.” She left and then returned with a double armful of groceries.
“You movin’ in with me?”
“In your dreams.”
“Then what....” He gestured toward her load.
“Supplies, John.”
“Supplies? Supplies for... wait, for Dean’s birthday?”
She smiled. “Took you long enough.”
John snorted and rubbed the back of his neck. “Guess I’m just generally slow on the uptake today. Good thing I’m not on a hunt.”
“Today?” She tossed her head slightly, sending her hair back over her shoulder. “What’s going on?”
“Oh, the kids were making plans and it took me a lot longer than it should have to remember why.”
Ellen rolled her eyes. “Were they being cryptic again?”
John blinked. “It was all in Sign, if that’s what you mean.”
“It’s just that those four have a language all their own sometimes.”
“Doesn’t surprise me. I’ve been here, what, six months, nearly? And I still can’t keep up with ’em half the time.”
Ellen huffed. Then she blinked. “Oh, here. This is from Ash.”
John frowned and held out his hand.
“He says it’s an external hard drive for your computer,” she said as she handed it over. “Said it can hold all your hunting stuff.”
John’s eyebrows shot up as he took it from her and looked it over-the label proclaimed it was “250GB,” whatever that meant. “Huh. Guess I’ll have to get one of the kids to help me set it up.”
“Dean,” Ellen said. “It’s electronics, so Dean is the one you need.”
“I thought Sam was the one with computer smarts.”
“Once it’s set up, sure. He can make it sing. But Dean’s the one who sets it up.”
John nodded. “Good to know.”
Ellen shook her head. “That boy and my Ash-give ’em anything that runs off of electronics and they can tell you everything about it and how to improve it.”
John chuckled. “How is Ash?”
Ellen smiled. “Doing very well. His therapy is working well, and he claims he can tell when it’s going to rain because his left big toe aches. His right big toe is the snow-predictor.”
John laughed. “And what’s Jo up to these days?”
Ellen ran her fingertips along her hairline just below her ear. “About here.” She grinned, enjoying the old parents’ joke.
John laughed again.
“Seriously, she quit school and is in some serious training with Rufus Turner. She thinks she wants to be a Hunter full-time.”
John’s eyebrows shot up. “She thinks?”
“She thinks it’s all fun and glamour and saving people. She only sees the fairy-tale side of it.”
He sighed. “I don’t deny that’s the part I miss, when I think about it now. But I don’t miss gettin’ thrown around by ghosts or torn up by monsters. Woulda thought Ash could set her straight on the downsides.”
“Ash’s family. So all she sees is her adopted brother trying to dissuade her because he can’t do it himself.” She poured herself a cup of coffee and held out the pot for John. “Which is why I let her go with Rufus. He can show her all the ugly without gettin’ her killed. She wanted to go with Gordon Walker. I nipped that in the bud right away.”
John let her fill his mug. “Gordon got a few more screws loose than the last time I saw him?”
“He’s starting to focus on some rumors goin’ around. No clue what it is, but scuttlebutt says Bobby and Rufus have started the ‘keep away from Cazadore’ wagon up again.”
John scowled. “You don’t think he’d try to come after Sam, do you?”
Ellen put the pot down and looked at him, her head tilting slightly. “Now, that’s real interestin’ that you leave Dean out of that statement.”
John blinked. “Demons don’t mouth off about Dean-not to me, anyway.”
“Just about Sam.” Ellen made a “huh” sound and leaned against the counter, holding her mug in both hands as she sipped.
“Why? You hear somethin’?”
“Not yet. Just that puzzle pieces are startin’ to fall into place and I ain’t likin’ what the picture is.”
“Ellen... tell me everything.”
She put down her mug. “John Winchester. You believed demons about your own son.”
John sighed and studied his own coffee. “It was stupid of me. Longer I live here, the clearer that is. But they do tell the truth if it hurts worse’n a lie.” He shook his head. “Hell, couple of ’em tried to derail my plea deal just to get at Sam.”
“Which tells me they were playing you. They want Sam for some reason. They don’t want Dean. So they had you want Dean and not Sam.”
He frowned. “I never... Ellen, I love both my boys. I always have.”
“Really?”
“Of course I do! I wanted them both with me so I could keep ’em safe, keep Sam away from bad influences... keep other people safe from the things that are gunnin’ for him.”
Ellen nodded. “It must gall you that they took care of themselves for so long.”
John sighed again. “Only ’cause it makes me realize what a lousy job I did myself. I didn’t even remember to celebrate Dean’s birthday, Ellen, and I never realized it until a few hours ago. I still can’t believe I was that obsessed.”
“I can.” She held up a hand. “No, hear me out. You got about as unlucky as a Hunter can get. You saw the attack and you saw her burn. At least I wasn’t with Bill when he was killed. So I never felt that all-consuming need for revenge. But you got about as blessed as a man can get, too-because your boys hated you for an awful long time. But they forgave you and took you back.”
“I sure as hell don’t deserve it.”
“But you got a second chance.” She stepped forward and put her palm on his chest. “Don’t blow it.”
He nodded. “I’m tryin’ not to. Tryin’ hard.” The corner of his mouth twitched up as he added, “Hell, they’re stuck with me for another nine and a half years. I’ve gotta make some effort.”
“There you go. So. Dean’s birthday.”
“I was just about to try to find him a present online. Any ideas?”
“You’re askin’ ’cause I know him better now than you do?”
John rubbed the back of his neck. “Guess you do. I’m learning, but I ain’t caught up yet.”
“Okay. There are several things that Dean loves. Take out the people, and you’ve got several options.”
“Shoot.”
“Languages. All languages spoken with gesture or voice. Sam is huge on written, Dean is on vocal or signed.”
“Last I knew, Dean had Spanish, Latin, and ASL. He learned any more?”
“Bobby’s teaching him Japanese and he’s picking up French and Russian from somewhere.”
John nodded. “He could probably use German, too. I’ll get him some tapes.”
“There you go.” She smiled. “And he loves movies. Westerns and sci-fi especially. Don’t get him anything Star Trek or Star Wars, though - Bobby got him all three seasons of the original series and I’m getting him the Star Wars movies.”
“Okay. How’s he fixed for John Wayne movies? I’m sure he’s got all of Eastwood’s by now.”
“He could always use more. He’s got True Grit and Rooster Cogburn that I know of.”
John nodded and added a few more classic Wayne movies to his mental shopping list. “What else?”
Ellen thought. “He loves classic cars-but you knew that.”
John grinned. “Anything he needs for the Impala?”
“Bobby’s got that covered.”
“Figures.”
She shrugged. “Sorry.”
“No, it’s fine, really. He’s got the salvage yard; he can probably find things quicker’n I can. What else?”
She shook her head.
“He still like classic rock?”
“I’ve never heard what kind of music he listens to.” She smiled. “He does sing to anything and everything on my jukebox at the Roadhouse, though.”
John chuckled. “That does help me. Thanks, Ellen.”
She nodded and curled her hand around the back of his neck. “Any time. You know that.”
John pulled her into a grateful hug. “You’re a good woman, Ellen Harvelle, and a good friend. I know I can’t make up for what happened to Bill, but thank you for giving me another chance.”
She patted his shoulder. “Thanks, John.”
He released her. “So. The kids tell you what the plan is? All I know for sure is that Dean doesn’t want a surprise party but does want pie.”
“Not a clue.”
“All right, then.” He paused. “You stayin’ with me or with one of the boys?”
“I’ve got my van. Figured I’d sleep there.”
“Oh, no, you don’t. Not in this town. Not while I’ve got a couch free.”
“Folks’ll talk.”
“They’ll talk more if you sleep in that van.”
She sighed. “Okay.”
“Go get your gear. I’ll bring down a bedroll for you.”
She nodded and headed outside.
John’s heart felt oddly lighter as he headed up the stairs. Ellen had shown him hospitality many a time over the years; it was good to finally be able to return the favor.
In the morning, he came downstairs to find her tousled hair the only thing visible in the bedroll. She had been awake twice during the night, he knew, and the rare sleeping in was something he was loath to interrupt.
John made breakfast as quietly as he could. As he was setting it on the table, he heard movement. Ellen appeared in the kitchen doorway moments later, looking absolutely wrecked.
“Coffee?”
“Please.” She padded to a chair and sank gratefully into it with a soft groan. “Bad night.”
He got out one of the oversized mugs the kids had gotten him for Christmas and filled it with coffee exactly the way he knew she took it. She drank, holding it with both hands. He’d never seen her do that before, and now she’d done it twice in two days.
“Ellen, what’s going on? Is it Jo?”
“What?” she asked, frowning up at him.
“Said you had a bad night, and I’ve never seen you need coffee this bad.”
She sighed, rubbing her eye with the pads of one hand’s fingers. “Yeah-it’s JoannaBeth.”
“Is it just that she wants to hunt, or is there something more to it?”
“She wants to kill what killed her daddy. She wants her daddy back.”
John’s heart sank. “How much have you told her?”
“Relax. She don’t know it was you. She don’t know how badly Bill was hurt.”
“Then she needs to hear it from me. And soon, ’fore some demon mouths off to her.”
“I can have her here this afternoon.”
“Good enough.” John sighed. “Don’t want it to ruin Dean’s birthday, but I have a feeling he’d be happier that the air’s clear than if Jo’s chasin’ something she doesn’t know.”
She smiled and pulled out her phone. And while she called, John finished bringing in the breakfast food.
“She’s coming.”
John nodded. “Need a refill?”
“No, just a shower.”
“Eat first. You can have the shower once I leave for work.”
“Okay.” She watched him punch in his morning code and then head for the shower. She sighed, looking down at her coffee cup like it held all the answers she sought.
When Jo arrived that afternoon, the first words out of her mouth were, “Mama, why aren’t you staying with Sam?”
“Sam’s married now, honey. It would be an imposition.”
Jo stepped inside, noted the blankets folded up on the end table beside the couch, and nodded once in satisfaction. She then gave Ellen a hug and turned to shake John’s hand. “Hi, Mr. Winchester.”
“Jo.” He seemed nervous.
“Mom said you needed to talk to me. What’s going on?”
“Sit down,” John gestured.
Jo sat on the couch, looking at him curiously.
“How much do you know... about the night Bill died?”
“Just that something went wrong with the hunt and the creature got to him.”
“Jo...”John sighed. “The thing didn’t kill your father.”
She blinked. “I... I don’t understand.”
“It was a Wendigo. You know how those are.”
She nodded and shivered a little.
“When I found him... he was just barely alive. He’d managed to kill the beast, but the price....” He shivered. “He asked two things of me. To tell you how very, very much he loved you and your mother and that he was sorry.”
Tears welled up in Jo’s eyes. “And the other thing?”
They clouded John’s as well. “To burn him. I said I would... and he gestured at my gun. I... he was in so much pain...”
Jo gasped in horror. “You... you didn’t....”
“He had to, JoannaBeth,” Ellen said softly.
With a wordless cry of pain and sorrow, Jo fled from the house. Ellen followed.
And John sank down in his recliner and wept.
He didn’t hear Sam and Tricia’s knock or their walking in. He didn’t realize they were there until Sam was lifting him out of the chair.
“Dad?” Sam asked gently as he started to carry John upstairs to the bedroom. “What happened?”
“Told her,” he breathed.
“Told who about what?”
“Jo... ’bout who killed her dad...”
“Oh. Dean said you’d said something about that at Christmas. Kinda bad timing, but I know it’s something you had to do eventually.”
“It was me, Sammy...”
“We figured. And Dean asked Ellen after New Year’s.”
He nodded slowly.
“Ellen says Bill wouldn’t have made it to the hospital even if you’d been able to get him to the car.”
He shook his head. “He was too ripped up.”
Sam tightened his hold on John briefly as he whispered, “I’m glad you’re here, Dad. This way we don’t have to worry about the same thing happening to you.”
John frowned as sleep started to drag him under. “... sounds like... want me ’round... thought you... hated me...”
“Never wanted you dead, Dad. And that was then. This is now.”
His hand clutched tight onto Sam’s strong wrist. “... so strong... proud of you...”
Sam squeezed him again, and John thought he felt the barest brush of a kiss on his forehead. “Love you, Dad.”
And emotional exhaustion took him.
Tricia caught Sam’s eye. Ever tell why you so strong?
Sam nodded as he pulled the covers over John. We talked day after wedding.
He okay with it?
Sam shrugged. Seems to be. Not say anything bad about it since.
She sagged in relief. Afraid he thought you demon since blood left you with that.
So was I. He kissed her. We wait for Ellen?
She nodded. I clean kitchen.
Sam nodded back and started straightening the living room.
Ellen and Jo returned half an hour later.
“Hey, Jo,” Sam said quietly. “You okay?”
“Well, I don’t want to kill ’im anymore, so I’m takin’ that as progress,” she sighed.
“I hear ya. Ellen?”
“Tired but okay.”
Sam nodded. “Dad’s in bed-cried himself out.”
“Over me?” Jo gasped.
Ellen snorted. “Somehow I can’t see big, bad hunter John Winchester crying himself to sleep.”
“He did,” Tricia confirmed. “Sam had to carry him upstairs.”
Jo looked at Ellen. “Remind me not to drink the water round here if things like that keep happening.”
Sam and Tricia snorted in amusement.
Ellen nodded slowly. “He’s still grievin’.”
Sam nodded. “Sounds like it. You know how he is-repress, repress, repress until it boils over into alcoholism or violence-or a major breakdown like this one.”
Ellen smiled. “Dean used to be the same before you two left.”
“Yeah. I remember.”
John came downstairs a few moments later and couldn’t look at Jo.
“Get you some coffee, Papa John?” Tricia offered.
“Yeah, thanks.”
“Gonna be okay, Dad?” Sam asked, going to John’s side. “We can pick up something from Burger Barn if you want.”
“I’d like that, son. Thank you.”
Sam steered him to a chair as Tricia returned from the kitchen with a mug of coffee. “You want your usual?”
“Yeah, thanks.” He pushed at the strong arm holding him. “M’okay now, son.”
“You sure? You still look kinda pale.”
“I’ll be better once I have some food in me.”
Sam nodded. “Ellen, Jo? What’ll y’all have?”
“Not hungry,” Jo mumbled, never taking her eyes off of John.
Sam’s brow crinkled a little in confused worry, and he looked at Ellen again.
Ellen just shook her head.
“All right. C’mon, Trish.” Sam patted John’s shoulder, and Tricia pressed the coffee into John’s hands with a peck on the cheek. Then they left together.
John looked up at Jo. “You know if there had been any other way-” He stopped, closing his eyes against a flashback.
Ellen stepped forward. “John?”
He drew in a shuddering breath, inhaling the scent of the coffee as he did so. “I’m okay,” he murmured and took a quick drink, which brought him back to the present completely. He took another deep breath and let it out again as he opened his eyes. “I’m okay. Sorry.”
“Memory?”
He nodded stiffly and took another drink of coffee, which mercifully did not taste like blood. Sometimes the whisky did with the really bad ones.
“Anything I can do?”
“No. I’m okay now. Thanks.”
None of them said another word until Sam and Tricia returned a few minutes later with a takeout box of chicken fried steak for John. John ate it all and then pled tiredness and escaped back up the stairs. He expected to be plagued with nightmares all night... but when he opened the bedroom door, he was hit with a wave of scent that smelled like a candy store-and that was the last thing he remembered before the alarm went off the next morning.
So it somehow didn’t surprise him when Bill Cooper pulled up to the curb just as he was about to leave for work. “Give you a lift, John?”
“Thanks, Bill.”
Cooper waited until John was safely buckled in and he had pulled away from the curb before saying, “So what was that all about?”
“What was what all about?”
Cooper’s eyes narrowed. “Yesterday. Cute blonde around Sam’s age shows up at your house and runs screaming not five minutes later? I don’t think I’m the only one who noticed.”
“Very long story. She’s my friend Ellen’s daughter.”
“And you told her something that left you in flashback mode?”
“Yeah.”
“You’re welcome, by the way.”
“That was you?”
“Who else would it have been?”
“I owe you, Bill. Thanks.”
“Yeah, you do, and not just for that-but I doubt I’ll be keeping score for too long.”
“Oh?”
Cooper just grinned deviously and pulled into the garage.
“BILL....”
“Later, John!”
Growling, he got out of the car. And he could see Cooper cackling as he drove away.
“IDIOT!” he yelled at his back.
Leo blinked. “Did I miss something?”
“Bill Cooper.”
“Ah.” Leo just chuckled and shook his head.
And somehow John felt better.
Cooper let him stew for three days before an extra box turned up with the things John had ordered for Dean. John frowned as he brought the extra box in and opened it VERY. Carefully.
It still flew open with a burst of fireworks and a shower of confetti.
“BILL!”
“JoannaBeth!” Ellen called around the corner. “You awake?”
She received a mumbled response that might have been a “Yes, Mom.”
“Get on up, we’re going to Maggie’s!”
“’Kay.” Jo shuffled into the kitchen moments later, dressed but not quite in her right mind yet.
“C’mon, I’m driving.”
Jo nodded sleepily and followed Ellen to the van. The women sleepwalked into Maggie’s.
“Good night,” exclaimed Garnet Petersen. “Looks like you ladies could use some caffeine!”
“It would help,” Ellen grinned. “Garnet, right?”
“Yes, ma’am. Two cups of coffee, comin’ right up. Y’all seat yourselves; I’ll be back in a jiff.”
“Here.” Ellen guided Jo to a table.
Jo nodded her thanks and sat down heavily. Then she propped her elbows on the table and rested her head in her hands.
“You’re okay.”
“Will be. I guess.” Jo didn’t say anything else until Garnet delivered the coffee.
“Anything else I can get you?”
“Two orders of French toast,” Ellen replied.
“Mom,” Jo objected. “I’m not hungry.” But her stomach immediately put the lie to that statement.
Garnet smiled. “Fruit or plain?”
Ellen smiled back. “Plain for me, strawberry for JoannaBeth.”
“JoannaBeth?” Garnet smiled. “That’s a pretty name.”
Jo managed a smile. “Thanks. So’s yours.”
“Thank you. My parents were jewelers.” Garnet nodded to Ellen again. “It’ll be just a few minutes.”
Ellen nodded and watched her move away.
Jo found her silverware very interesting.
“John insisted that he tell you himself,” Ellen finally said quietly.
“How long did you know?”
“Since it happened. He didn’t come back to the Roadhouse for about ten years, thought I’d never want to see him again. Hell, I thought the same thing for almost as long.”
Jo’s face showed betrayal. “And you didn’t tell me.”
“Didn’t think you needed to know. Didn’t want you havin’ nightmares about your daddy sufferin’ that way.”
“He murdered your husband and my father.”
“That’s the way I felt at first. But honey... John didn’t have much of a choice. They were three miles from the car, and Bill couldn’t be moved. John could either put a bullet in Bill’s brain, or he could sit there and watch Bill suffer.”
Jo studied her, then nodded slowly.
“Daddy wouldn’t want us holdin’ grudges. And you saw how hard John’s still takin’ it.”
“Mercy killing.”
“Mercy for Daddy. Wasn’t much mercy in it for John-unless we give it to him.”
“I don’ know, Mama.”
Ellen took her hand and rubbed it. “I know it hurts, honey. That’s not gonna go away by the time John gets home from work. If you don’t want to stay, I don’t think he’ll blame you. Just be sure to stop by the school ’fore you leave, say hello to Dean.”
“Will you blame me?” She sounded so very young.
“Only if you try to shoot John.” The corner of Ellen’s mouth turned upward to show that the comment was a light tease.
Jo smiled slightly. “Okay.”
“But I want you to think about all this on your way back to Rufus. About what happened to Daddy and John, about why you want to hunt. Dean’ll be much happier if you miss part of his life ’cause you’re mad at John than he will if you miss because you get hurt on a hunt.”
She nodded and smiled at Garnet as their food arrived.
Later that morning, Jo rapped on Dean’s classroom door. Dean looked up from his grading, grinned, and came to the door to give her a hug.
Jo hugged him back. In the hug, she whispered, “Can I stay with you and Daphne?”
“Shouldn’t be a problem. I’ll call Daphne and ask. You stickin’ around, then?”
She nodded. “Just... not with John.”
“Yeah, Sam told me about yesterday. I don’t blame you.”
She nodded against his shoulder.
“C’mon in, sit down.” Dean guided her into the classroom before pulling out his cell phone.
Jo wandered around, looking, while Dean called his wife.
Their conversation was quick and sounded like Russian, but Dean was smiling when he hung up. “Daphne says it’s fine.”
“What language was that?”
“Russian. We’re tryin’ to keep in practice-never know when you might need to interview an immigrant for a hunt.”
Jo gaped at him. “My G-D, Dean! How many languages DO you speak now?”
“Aside from English?” Dean did a quick count. “Six. Sammy’s up to eight, I think.”
“The HELL, Dean? Where did this come from?” Awe was in her voice.
Dean shrugged. “ASL was first. Picked up Latin and Spanish from Pastor Jim. And then... well, foreign language pedagogy made more sense than the Deaf Ed stuff, and since I was spending so much time in Modern Foreign Languages anyway....”
Jo was shaking her head. “Wait... what are you talking about?”
“College.”
“I got that... but what’s peda... ped....”
“Pedagogy-’s a fancy way of saying ‘theories on how to teach,’ and believe me, most of it’s a waste of time.”
She smiled at him. “You’re a man of many talents, Dean Winchester.”
Dean grinned and ducked his head, embarrassed.
Friends continued to gather over the next several days, and the plan for Dean’s party slowly took shape. Or at least it was slow from John’s perspective, since he was used to having only a couple of days to plan a hunt before someone else could die. The whole idea of taking an entire week to plan a party felt foreign to him.
His impatience showed once, and Bobby pulled him aside. “What’s your problem?”
John sighed. “It’s a birthday party. People keep talkin’ like it’s a major assault.”
Bobby laughed. “This is Dean’s birthday party. His first with you.”
John rubbed the back of his neck. “Guess you’ve got a point. But still.”
“We’re going to have a typical Tuesday - and then spring it on him.”
“He said he didn’t want a surprise. Said if he shot somebody, it was Sam’s fault.”
“He’s getting one.”
“With my luck, he’ll shoot me,” John grumbled.
Bobby patted his shoulder.
“I dunno if I can do this, Bobby. Having the kids and maybe one or two of their friends come over is one thing.”
“That’s why we’re here.”
“I don’t just mean the planning. It’s... having people. In my house.”
“The backyard.”
“The backyard? Isn’t it a little cold for that by Texas standards?”
“M-hm. And we’re doing it right.”
John blinked. “I think you need to clear a bonfire with Frank. Might be a burn ban on.”
“I’ll work on it.”
But by the time John left for work Tuesday morning, he still wasn’t sure what the final plan was. And it annoyed him, partly because it involved his house and partly on Dean’s behalf because he suspected Dean really only wanted dinner and pie and presents.
Dean arrived at Mercer’s on his lunch. “Dad?”
“Hey, son. Happy birthday.”
“Hey, Dad.” He hugged John quickly. “What’re you working on?”
“Installing a deer guard on this truck. Wish you could be here this afternoon, though-got a call from a guy who’s having trouble with a late-model Dodge, sounds like something’s up with the electronics.”
He nodded. “I can be here after four.”
John blinked. “Really? You wouldn’t mind?”
“Absolutely not.” He grinned. Bring my old man into the 21st century kicking and screaming.
John laughed heartily.
Dean’s grin widened. See you four.
John nodded. Thank you.
Dean’s face lit - as it did every time his father used his hands. We make signer of you yet.
John chuckled. “Don’t count on it.”
At 4:02, the Impala pulled up at Mercer’s and Dean got out. He headed right over. Where is it?
“Not here yet. Marcus is having to tow it; apparently things got worse, and now it won’t start at all.”
Model?
“Challenger.”
Dean’s eyes widened and narrowed. Okay.
“Something wrong?”
“Challengers are always doing this.”
“Is it something Chrysler knows about?”
“Yeah, they’re sending out patches for it, but sometimes they’re slow to get here.”
“You know a workaround, though, right?”
Dean smiled slowly. “Of course.”
John grinned. “Glad you’re here, son.”
Dean tilted his head. “I hear the tow truck.”
John nodded. “Come show me what tools I’ll need.”
He did and they picked them out as the truck pulled up in a clear bay. Dean spent the rest of the afternoon showing John not only how to fix that particular problem, but quite a few others that were common on the newer cars. And John saw first hand how good of a teacher his boy was. His pride was clear on his face and in his eyes when he smiled at Dean.
When Mercer finally poked his head out of the office to tell them to take off, John nudged Dean’s arm and said, “Thanks, Teach.”
Dean laughed and rolled his eyes.
“You need to go home, or were you planning to come right over?”
“I need to go home. I’ll be over in an hour.”
“Okay. Thanks for taking time out of your birthday to help me with this. This electronic stuff just baffles me.”
“You’ll get it, Dad. Need a ride home?”
“I do, actually. Ellen was supposed to come get me later, but this way I won’t have to wait for her.”
“Give her a call and we’ll go.”
John nodded and called. Dean drove him home. And John was rather surprised at the lack of cars around his house when they arrived. He didn’t know if Ellen had told the others to high-tail it or what.
They walked into the house and John turned on the light. Nobody jumped out and yelled surprise. That was good; John might be unarmed at work, but he did keep a gun by the front door and might well have shot someone himself even if Dean didn’t.
John punched in his at-home code on his phone, and Dean took his leave, repeating his promise to be back in an hour. Once the door was closed, John sighed. “Okay,” he called. “Where is everybody?”
No answer.
“Ellen?”
Nothing.
Grumbling, John grabbed his sidearm and headed to the backyard. Nobody was there.
“The hell...” John stomped back inside and called Bobby.
“Singer.”
“Bobby, where the hell is everyone?”
“What are you talkin’ about? We’re not supposed to be at your house till six!”
“And what time is it now?”
“Five-thirty.”
John grumbled again and checked his watch; he’d felt sure it was already after 6. “The kids’ll be over in an hour.”
“And we’ll be ready.”
“Half an hour gives you enough time?”
Bobby chuckled. “We’re almost ready.”
John sighed heavily. “Y’know, there’s a reason Mary did all the birthday planning.”
“Which is why all you have to do is be there. First of us will be there in fifteen.”
“Okay. Door’s unlocked.”
“See ya then.”
John sighed again as he hung up and ran a hand through his hair. How the hell did people do this every year?
Fifteen minutes later, his doorbell rang.
“Who’s there?”
“Open up, ya blamed idjit.”
John opened the door. “I told you it was unlocked, dammit.”
Bobby came in and his arms were laden. “And how’m I gonna open it like this?”
“Make two trips. Need help?”
“Yeah.”
John relieved Bobby of part of his load. “Where to?”
“Backyard.”
John headed outside. Together, they got the first round of stuff put together. Ellen arrived five minutes later.
“We’re out back,” John called.
With her taking over, they got it done. Other guests arrived in five- to ten-minute intervals.
And then came Caleb’s call. “They’re coming!”
John dashed inside while everyone else except Ellen and Cooper scurried outside.
Dean walked in. “Wow, that smells good.”
Ellen hugged him first. “Happy birthday, Dean.”
He hugged her back.
“Got something for you out back, Deano,” said Cooper.
“Yeah?” Dean headed that way.
Daphne, Sam, Tricia, and Jo trailed after him, grinning at John.
John shot them a wink.
The second Dean’s body crossed the threshold, everyone yelled “SURPRISE!”
But Dean didn’t jump or curse. Instead he shot a look of fond exasperation at Sam. Did you at least remember the pie?
Sam laughed and nodded.
Dean laughed, too, and slapped his brother on the shoulder. “Well, Dad? You comin’ out with us?”
John just blinked, but he followed them.
The guests were laughing and slapping Dean on the shoulders and back. There was more than enough food for the twenty or so people who’d showed up, and a cherry pie with a candle in it. Dean blew out the candle, and they had a good meal.
The kids had apparently already given Dean their presents that morning, but the other adults hadn’t. Bobby led off with some hard-to-find spare parts for the Impala, which earned him a back-pounding hug. John got the same for his selection of German tapes and John Wayne DVDs.
Ellen gave him a bound journal. “It’s blank now. You can fill it.”
Dean grinned. “Thanks, Ellen. This is a hell of a lot more portable than that database Ash was tryin’ to get me to set up!”
Sam laughed.
Caleb and Rufus had gone together and gotten a trip to Enchanted Rock during Spring Break, complete with reservations at a Gasthaus in Fredericksburg.
“This... this....” Dean shook his head. Too much. Too much.
“You kiddin’?” Rufus chuckled. “We just wanted to give you a chance to see if the rock’s really enchanted!”
Dean laughed and nodded. Thank you.
“And you know it’s a hit when Dean starts talking with his hands,” Ellen laughed.
And so did everyone else, Dean included.
It was a pleasant evening all told, even though Jo was still skittish around John. And Dean gave John another big hug on his way out the door when it was all over.
Maybe, John thought, he actually could get used to this.
Next
Chapter 3
Dean’s Birthday
John knew he was missing something when the kids came over for supper in mid-January, but he just couldn’t put his finger on why Sam and Tricia and Daphne suddenly went silent-even in Sign-when Dean walked in.
Dean noticed it, too, and paused. “... what?”
Nothing. In unison.
You not planning surprise party, are you?
John frowned. Surprise party? For what?
Sam grinned. Maybe.
Dean snorted. I shoot somebody, it your fault.
Noted.
And I want pie this time.
Noted. Sam winked.
And suddenly John remembered. Dean’s birthday was coming up in a week!
John thought back, trying to remember the last birthday of Dean’s they’d celebrated. There was his 16th, when John gave him the car, but before that...
... his fourth.
That was it.
Dammit, John, he raged at himself, how the hell did you get so obsessed with hunting that you couldn’t remember to celebrate your own son’s birthday?!
Dean nudged him. “Thinking too hard.”
John sighed. “Just realizing again what a damned idiot I’ve been.”
“What this time?”
“Your birthday.”
What about?
“The fact we never had a party once after the fire, and I only now realized it. That’s just... inexcusable. Unforgivable. Dean, I am so, so sorry.”
Dean’s face went blank. He shrugged. “That’s just the way it was,” he said softly.
“It shouldn’t have been.”
“No, but it was.”
“His birthday wasn’t forgotten,” Sam smiled. “We had our own traditions.”
John sighed. “I still should have done something. Been a better father. Hell, even in ’Nam, I made sure we did something when a guy in the platoon had a birthday.”
Past is past.
“You’re here now,” Sam added. “You can’t fix what was, but you can do better with what is.”
Dean nodded.
John nodded as well. “I’ll try.”
All we ask, Dad.
John managed to smile a little at that. Dean clapped him on the shoulder and went on about whatever he was doing.
All too soon, though, it was time for his kids to leave and John was alone again. And he thought long and hard about Dean and about his upcoming birthday. Boy was about to turn 27... that was a lot of missed birthdays. They were right; he couldn’t make up for the past. But maybe he could make the present better.
Christmas had given him both a better idea of the boys’ tastes and the confidence to order things online... so he fired up the computer and headed to Amazon.com.
And was interrupted by a knock on his door.
Frowning, John went to answer it. A second later he was sent flying backwards by a slap that he would later swear broke the sound barrier.
“What was that for?!”
“For Bill.” And Ellen Harvelle was walking into his house like she owned the place.
“Ellen, what... why....”
“Owed you that. Payment’s delivered. How the hell are you, John?”
John had to swallow hard a couple of times before he could answer. “I’m all right, Ellen. Thanks.”
“Good.” She left and then returned with a double armful of groceries.
“You movin’ in with me?”
“In your dreams.”
“Then what....” He gestured toward her load.
“Supplies, John.”
“Supplies? Supplies for... wait, for Dean’s birthday?”
She smiled. “Took you long enough.”
John snorted and rubbed the back of his neck. “Guess I’m just generally slow on the uptake today. Good thing I’m not on a hunt.”
“Today?” She tossed her head slightly, sending her hair back over her shoulder. “What’s going on?”
“Oh, the kids were making plans and it took me a lot longer than it should have to remember why.”
Ellen rolled her eyes. “Were they being cryptic again?”
John blinked. “It was all in Sign, if that’s what you mean.”
“It’s just that those four have a language all their own sometimes.”
“Doesn’t surprise me. I’ve been here, what, six months, nearly? And I still can’t keep up with ’em half the time.”
Ellen huffed. Then she blinked. “Oh, here. This is from Ash.”
John frowned and held out his hand.
“He says it’s an external hard drive for your computer,” she said as she handed it over. “Said it can hold all your hunting stuff.”
John’s eyebrows shot up as he took it from her and looked it over-the label proclaimed it was “250GB,” whatever that meant. “Huh. Guess I’ll have to get one of the kids to help me set it up.”
“Dean,” Ellen said. “It’s electronics, so Dean is the one you need.”
“I thought Sam was the one with computer smarts.”
“Once it’s set up, sure. He can make it sing. But Dean’s the one who sets it up.”
John nodded. “Good to know.”
Ellen shook her head. “That boy and my Ash-give ’em anything that runs off of electronics and they can tell you everything about it and how to improve it.”
John chuckled. “How is Ash?”
Ellen smiled. “Doing very well. His therapy is working well, and he claims he can tell when it’s going to rain because his left big toe aches. His right big toe is the snow-predictor.”
John laughed. “And what’s Jo up to these days?”
Ellen ran her fingertips along her hairline just below her ear. “About here.” She grinned, enjoying the old parents’ joke.
John laughed again.
“Seriously, she quit school and is in some serious training with Rufus Turner. She thinks she wants to be a Hunter full-time.”
John’s eyebrows shot up. “She thinks?”
“She thinks it’s all fun and glamour and saving people. She only sees the fairy-tale side of it.”
He sighed. “I don’t deny that’s the part I miss, when I think about it now. But I don’t miss gettin’ thrown around by ghosts or torn up by monsters. Woulda thought Ash could set her straight on the downsides.”
“Ash’s family. So all she sees is her adopted brother trying to dissuade her because he can’t do it himself.” She poured herself a cup of coffee and held out the pot for John. “Which is why I let her go with Rufus. He can show her all the ugly without gettin’ her killed. She wanted to go with Gordon Walker. I nipped that in the bud right away.”
John let her fill his mug. “Gordon got a few more screws loose than the last time I saw him?”
“He’s starting to focus on some rumors goin’ around. No clue what it is, but scuttlebutt says Bobby and Rufus have started the ‘keep away from Cazadore’ wagon up again.”
John scowled. “You don’t think he’d try to come after Sam, do you?”
Ellen put the pot down and looked at him, her head tilting slightly. “Now, that’s real interestin’ that you leave Dean out of that statement.”
John blinked. “Demons don’t mouth off about Dean-not to me, anyway.”
“Just about Sam.” Ellen made a “huh” sound and leaned against the counter, holding her mug in both hands as she sipped.
“Why? You hear somethin’?”
“Not yet. Just that puzzle pieces are startin’ to fall into place and I ain’t likin’ what the picture is.”
“Ellen... tell me everything.”
She put down her mug. “John Winchester. You believed demons about your own son.”
John sighed and studied his own coffee. “It was stupid of me. Longer I live here, the clearer that is. But they do tell the truth if it hurts worse’n a lie.” He shook his head. “Hell, couple of ’em tried to derail my plea deal just to get at Sam.”
“Which tells me they were playing you. They want Sam for some reason. They don’t want Dean. So they had you want Dean and not Sam.”
He frowned. “I never... Ellen, I love both my boys. I always have.”
“Really?”
“Of course I do! I wanted them both with me so I could keep ’em safe, keep Sam away from bad influences... keep other people safe from the things that are gunnin’ for him.”
Ellen nodded. “It must gall you that they took care of themselves for so long.”
John sighed again. “Only ’cause it makes me realize what a lousy job I did myself. I didn’t even remember to celebrate Dean’s birthday, Ellen, and I never realized it until a few hours ago. I still can’t believe I was that obsessed.”
“I can.” She held up a hand. “No, hear me out. You got about as unlucky as a Hunter can get. You saw the attack and you saw her burn. At least I wasn’t with Bill when he was killed. So I never felt that all-consuming need for revenge. But you got about as blessed as a man can get, too-because your boys hated you for an awful long time. But they forgave you and took you back.”
“I sure as hell don’t deserve it.”
“But you got a second chance.” She stepped forward and put her palm on his chest. “Don’t blow it.”
He nodded. “I’m tryin’ not to. Tryin’ hard.” The corner of his mouth twitched up as he added, “Hell, they’re stuck with me for another nine and a half years. I’ve gotta make some effort.”
“There you go. So. Dean’s birthday.”
“I was just about to try to find him a present online. Any ideas?”
“You’re askin’ ’cause I know him better now than you do?”
John rubbed the back of his neck. “Guess you do. I’m learning, but I ain’t caught up yet.”
“Okay. There are several things that Dean loves. Take out the people, and you’ve got several options.”
“Shoot.”
“Languages. All languages spoken with gesture or voice. Sam is huge on written, Dean is on vocal or signed.”
“Last I knew, Dean had Spanish, Latin, and ASL. He learned any more?”
“Bobby’s teaching him Japanese and he’s picking up French and Russian from somewhere.”
John nodded. “He could probably use German, too. I’ll get him some tapes.”
“There you go.” She smiled. “And he loves movies. Westerns and sci-fi especially. Don’t get him anything Star Trek or Star Wars, though - Bobby got him all three seasons of the original series and I’m getting him the Star Wars movies.”
“Okay. How’s he fixed for John Wayne movies? I’m sure he’s got all of Eastwood’s by now.”
“He could always use more. He’s got True Grit and Rooster Cogburn that I know of.”
John nodded and added a few more classic Wayne movies to his mental shopping list. “What else?”
Ellen thought. “He loves classic cars-but you knew that.”
John grinned. “Anything he needs for the Impala?”
“Bobby’s got that covered.”
“Figures.”
She shrugged. “Sorry.”
“No, it’s fine, really. He’s got the salvage yard; he can probably find things quicker’n I can. What else?”
She shook her head.
“He still like classic rock?”
“I’ve never heard what kind of music he listens to.” She smiled. “He does sing to anything and everything on my jukebox at the Roadhouse, though.”
John chuckled. “That does help me. Thanks, Ellen.”
She nodded and curled her hand around the back of his neck. “Any time. You know that.”
John pulled her into a grateful hug. “You’re a good woman, Ellen Harvelle, and a good friend. I know I can’t make up for what happened to Bill, but thank you for giving me another chance.”
She patted his shoulder. “Thanks, John.”
He released her. “So. The kids tell you what the plan is? All I know for sure is that Dean doesn’t want a surprise party but does want pie.”
“Not a clue.”
“All right, then.” He paused. “You stayin’ with me or with one of the boys?”
“I’ve got my van. Figured I’d sleep there.”
“Oh, no, you don’t. Not in this town. Not while I’ve got a couch free.”
“Folks’ll talk.”
“They’ll talk more if you sleep in that van.”
She sighed. “Okay.”
“Go get your gear. I’ll bring down a bedroll for you.”
She nodded and headed outside.
John’s heart felt oddly lighter as he headed up the stairs. Ellen had shown him hospitality many a time over the years; it was good to finally be able to return the favor.
In the morning, he came downstairs to find her tousled hair the only thing visible in the bedroll. She had been awake twice during the night, he knew, and the rare sleeping in was something he was loath to interrupt.
John made breakfast as quietly as he could. As he was setting it on the table, he heard movement. Ellen appeared in the kitchen doorway moments later, looking absolutely wrecked.
“Coffee?”
“Please.” She padded to a chair and sank gratefully into it with a soft groan. “Bad night.”
He got out one of the oversized mugs the kids had gotten him for Christmas and filled it with coffee exactly the way he knew she took it. She drank, holding it with both hands. He’d never seen her do that before, and now she’d done it twice in two days.
“Ellen, what’s going on? Is it Jo?”
“What?” she asked, frowning up at him.
“Said you had a bad night, and I’ve never seen you need coffee this bad.”
She sighed, rubbing her eye with the pads of one hand’s fingers. “Yeah-it’s JoannaBeth.”
“Is it just that she wants to hunt, or is there something more to it?”
“She wants to kill what killed her daddy. She wants her daddy back.”
John’s heart sank. “How much have you told her?”
“Relax. She don’t know it was you. She don’t know how badly Bill was hurt.”
“Then she needs to hear it from me. And soon, ’fore some demon mouths off to her.”
“I can have her here this afternoon.”
“Good enough.” John sighed. “Don’t want it to ruin Dean’s birthday, but I have a feeling he’d be happier that the air’s clear than if Jo’s chasin’ something she doesn’t know.”
She smiled and pulled out her phone. And while she called, John finished bringing in the breakfast food.
“She’s coming.”
John nodded. “Need a refill?”
“No, just a shower.”
“Eat first. You can have the shower once I leave for work.”
“Okay.” She watched him punch in his morning code and then head for the shower. She sighed, looking down at her coffee cup like it held all the answers she sought.
When Jo arrived that afternoon, the first words out of her mouth were, “Mama, why aren’t you staying with Sam?”
“Sam’s married now, honey. It would be an imposition.”
Jo stepped inside, noted the blankets folded up on the end table beside the couch, and nodded once in satisfaction. She then gave Ellen a hug and turned to shake John’s hand. “Hi, Mr. Winchester.”
“Jo.” He seemed nervous.
“Mom said you needed to talk to me. What’s going on?”
“Sit down,” John gestured.
Jo sat on the couch, looking at him curiously.
“How much do you know... about the night Bill died?”
“Just that something went wrong with the hunt and the creature got to him.”
“Jo...”John sighed. “The thing didn’t kill your father.”
She blinked. “I... I don’t understand.”
“It was a Wendigo. You know how those are.”
She nodded and shivered a little.
“When I found him... he was just barely alive. He’d managed to kill the beast, but the price....” He shivered. “He asked two things of me. To tell you how very, very much he loved you and your mother and that he was sorry.”
Tears welled up in Jo’s eyes. “And the other thing?”
They clouded John’s as well. “To burn him. I said I would... and he gestured at my gun. I... he was in so much pain...”
Jo gasped in horror. “You... you didn’t....”
“He had to, JoannaBeth,” Ellen said softly.
With a wordless cry of pain and sorrow, Jo fled from the house. Ellen followed.
And John sank down in his recliner and wept.
He didn’t hear Sam and Tricia’s knock or their walking in. He didn’t realize they were there until Sam was lifting him out of the chair.
“Dad?” Sam asked gently as he started to carry John upstairs to the bedroom. “What happened?”
“Told her,” he breathed.
“Told who about what?”
“Jo... ’bout who killed her dad...”
“Oh. Dean said you’d said something about that at Christmas. Kinda bad timing, but I know it’s something you had to do eventually.”
“It was me, Sammy...”
“We figured. And Dean asked Ellen after New Year’s.”
He nodded slowly.
“Ellen says Bill wouldn’t have made it to the hospital even if you’d been able to get him to the car.”
He shook his head. “He was too ripped up.”
Sam tightened his hold on John briefly as he whispered, “I’m glad you’re here, Dad. This way we don’t have to worry about the same thing happening to you.”
John frowned as sleep started to drag him under. “... sounds like... want me ’round... thought you... hated me...”
“Never wanted you dead, Dad. And that was then. This is now.”
His hand clutched tight onto Sam’s strong wrist. “... so strong... proud of you...”
Sam squeezed him again, and John thought he felt the barest brush of a kiss on his forehead. “Love you, Dad.”
And emotional exhaustion took him.
Tricia caught Sam’s eye. Ever tell why you so strong?
Sam nodded as he pulled the covers over John. We talked day after wedding.
He okay with it?
Sam shrugged. Seems to be. Not say anything bad about it since.
She sagged in relief. Afraid he thought you demon since blood left you with that.
So was I. He kissed her. We wait for Ellen?
She nodded. I clean kitchen.
Sam nodded back and started straightening the living room.
Ellen and Jo returned half an hour later.
“Hey, Jo,” Sam said quietly. “You okay?”
“Well, I don’t want to kill ’im anymore, so I’m takin’ that as progress,” she sighed.
“I hear ya. Ellen?”
“Tired but okay.”
Sam nodded. “Dad’s in bed-cried himself out.”
“Over me?” Jo gasped.
Ellen snorted. “Somehow I can’t see big, bad hunter John Winchester crying himself to sleep.”
“He did,” Tricia confirmed. “Sam had to carry him upstairs.”
Jo looked at Ellen. “Remind me not to drink the water round here if things like that keep happening.”
Sam and Tricia snorted in amusement.
Ellen nodded slowly. “He’s still grievin’.”
Sam nodded. “Sounds like it. You know how he is-repress, repress, repress until it boils over into alcoholism or violence-or a major breakdown like this one.”
Ellen smiled. “Dean used to be the same before you two left.”
“Yeah. I remember.”
John came downstairs a few moments later and couldn’t look at Jo.
“Get you some coffee, Papa John?” Tricia offered.
“Yeah, thanks.”
“Gonna be okay, Dad?” Sam asked, going to John’s side. “We can pick up something from Burger Barn if you want.”
“I’d like that, son. Thank you.”
Sam steered him to a chair as Tricia returned from the kitchen with a mug of coffee. “You want your usual?”
“Yeah, thanks.” He pushed at the strong arm holding him. “M’okay now, son.”
“You sure? You still look kinda pale.”
“I’ll be better once I have some food in me.”
Sam nodded. “Ellen, Jo? What’ll y’all have?”
“Not hungry,” Jo mumbled, never taking her eyes off of John.
Sam’s brow crinkled a little in confused worry, and he looked at Ellen again.
Ellen just shook her head.
“All right. C’mon, Trish.” Sam patted John’s shoulder, and Tricia pressed the coffee into John’s hands with a peck on the cheek. Then they left together.
John looked up at Jo. “You know if there had been any other way-” He stopped, closing his eyes against a flashback.
Ellen stepped forward. “John?”
He drew in a shuddering breath, inhaling the scent of the coffee as he did so. “I’m okay,” he murmured and took a quick drink, which brought him back to the present completely. He took another deep breath and let it out again as he opened his eyes. “I’m okay. Sorry.”
“Memory?”
He nodded stiffly and took another drink of coffee, which mercifully did not taste like blood. Sometimes the whisky did with the really bad ones.
“Anything I can do?”
“No. I’m okay now. Thanks.”
None of them said another word until Sam and Tricia returned a few minutes later with a takeout box of chicken fried steak for John. John ate it all and then pled tiredness and escaped back up the stairs. He expected to be plagued with nightmares all night... but when he opened the bedroom door, he was hit with a wave of scent that smelled like a candy store-and that was the last thing he remembered before the alarm went off the next morning.
So it somehow didn’t surprise him when Bill Cooper pulled up to the curb just as he was about to leave for work. “Give you a lift, John?”
“Thanks, Bill.”
Cooper waited until John was safely buckled in and he had pulled away from the curb before saying, “So what was that all about?”
“What was what all about?”
Cooper’s eyes narrowed. “Yesterday. Cute blonde around Sam’s age shows up at your house and runs screaming not five minutes later? I don’t think I’m the only one who noticed.”
“Very long story. She’s my friend Ellen’s daughter.”
“And you told her something that left you in flashback mode?”
“Yeah.”
“You’re welcome, by the way.”
“That was you?”
“Who else would it have been?”
“I owe you, Bill. Thanks.”
“Yeah, you do, and not just for that-but I doubt I’ll be keeping score for too long.”
“Oh?”
Cooper just grinned deviously and pulled into the garage.
“BILL....”
“Later, John!”
Growling, he got out of the car. And he could see Cooper cackling as he drove away.
“IDIOT!” he yelled at his back.
Leo blinked. “Did I miss something?”
“Bill Cooper.”
“Ah.” Leo just chuckled and shook his head.
And somehow John felt better.
Cooper let him stew for three days before an extra box turned up with the things John had ordered for Dean. John frowned as he brought the extra box in and opened it VERY. Carefully.
It still flew open with a burst of fireworks and a shower of confetti.
“BILL!”
“JoannaBeth!” Ellen called around the corner. “You awake?”
She received a mumbled response that might have been a “Yes, Mom.”
“Get on up, we’re going to Maggie’s!”
“’Kay.” Jo shuffled into the kitchen moments later, dressed but not quite in her right mind yet.
“C’mon, I’m driving.”
Jo nodded sleepily and followed Ellen to the van. The women sleepwalked into Maggie’s.
“Good night,” exclaimed Garnet Petersen. “Looks like you ladies could use some caffeine!”
“It would help,” Ellen grinned. “Garnet, right?”
“Yes, ma’am. Two cups of coffee, comin’ right up. Y’all seat yourselves; I’ll be back in a jiff.”
“Here.” Ellen guided Jo to a table.
Jo nodded her thanks and sat down heavily. Then she propped her elbows on the table and rested her head in her hands.
“You’re okay.”
“Will be. I guess.” Jo didn’t say anything else until Garnet delivered the coffee.
“Anything else I can get you?”
“Two orders of French toast,” Ellen replied.
“Mom,” Jo objected. “I’m not hungry.” But her stomach immediately put the lie to that statement.
Garnet smiled. “Fruit or plain?”
Ellen smiled back. “Plain for me, strawberry for JoannaBeth.”
“JoannaBeth?” Garnet smiled. “That’s a pretty name.”
Jo managed a smile. “Thanks. So’s yours.”
“Thank you. My parents were jewelers.” Garnet nodded to Ellen again. “It’ll be just a few minutes.”
Ellen nodded and watched her move away.
Jo found her silverware very interesting.
“John insisted that he tell you himself,” Ellen finally said quietly.
“How long did you know?”
“Since it happened. He didn’t come back to the Roadhouse for about ten years, thought I’d never want to see him again. Hell, I thought the same thing for almost as long.”
Jo’s face showed betrayal. “And you didn’t tell me.”
“Didn’t think you needed to know. Didn’t want you havin’ nightmares about your daddy sufferin’ that way.”
“He murdered your husband and my father.”
“That’s the way I felt at first. But honey... John didn’t have much of a choice. They were three miles from the car, and Bill couldn’t be moved. John could either put a bullet in Bill’s brain, or he could sit there and watch Bill suffer.”
Jo studied her, then nodded slowly.
“Daddy wouldn’t want us holdin’ grudges. And you saw how hard John’s still takin’ it.”
“Mercy killing.”
“Mercy for Daddy. Wasn’t much mercy in it for John-unless we give it to him.”
“I don’ know, Mama.”
Ellen took her hand and rubbed it. “I know it hurts, honey. That’s not gonna go away by the time John gets home from work. If you don’t want to stay, I don’t think he’ll blame you. Just be sure to stop by the school ’fore you leave, say hello to Dean.”
“Will you blame me?” She sounded so very young.
“Only if you try to shoot John.” The corner of Ellen’s mouth turned upward to show that the comment was a light tease.
Jo smiled slightly. “Okay.”
“But I want you to think about all this on your way back to Rufus. About what happened to Daddy and John, about why you want to hunt. Dean’ll be much happier if you miss part of his life ’cause you’re mad at John than he will if you miss because you get hurt on a hunt.”
She nodded and smiled at Garnet as their food arrived.
Later that morning, Jo rapped on Dean’s classroom door. Dean looked up from his grading, grinned, and came to the door to give her a hug.
Jo hugged him back. In the hug, she whispered, “Can I stay with you and Daphne?”
“Shouldn’t be a problem. I’ll call Daphne and ask. You stickin’ around, then?”
She nodded. “Just... not with John.”
“Yeah, Sam told me about yesterday. I don’t blame you.”
She nodded against his shoulder.
“C’mon in, sit down.” Dean guided her into the classroom before pulling out his cell phone.
Jo wandered around, looking, while Dean called his wife.
Their conversation was quick and sounded like Russian, but Dean was smiling when he hung up. “Daphne says it’s fine.”
“What language was that?”
“Russian. We’re tryin’ to keep in practice-never know when you might need to interview an immigrant for a hunt.”
Jo gaped at him. “My G-D, Dean! How many languages DO you speak now?”
“Aside from English?” Dean did a quick count. “Six. Sammy’s up to eight, I think.”
“The HELL, Dean? Where did this come from?” Awe was in her voice.
Dean shrugged. “ASL was first. Picked up Latin and Spanish from Pastor Jim. And then... well, foreign language pedagogy made more sense than the Deaf Ed stuff, and since I was spending so much time in Modern Foreign Languages anyway....”
Jo was shaking her head. “Wait... what are you talking about?”
“College.”
“I got that... but what’s peda... ped....”
“Pedagogy-’s a fancy way of saying ‘theories on how to teach,’ and believe me, most of it’s a waste of time.”
She smiled at him. “You’re a man of many talents, Dean Winchester.”
Dean grinned and ducked his head, embarrassed.
Friends continued to gather over the next several days, and the plan for Dean’s party slowly took shape. Or at least it was slow from John’s perspective, since he was used to having only a couple of days to plan a hunt before someone else could die. The whole idea of taking an entire week to plan a party felt foreign to him.
His impatience showed once, and Bobby pulled him aside. “What’s your problem?”
John sighed. “It’s a birthday party. People keep talkin’ like it’s a major assault.”
Bobby laughed. “This is Dean’s birthday party. His first with you.”
John rubbed the back of his neck. “Guess you’ve got a point. But still.”
“We’re going to have a typical Tuesday - and then spring it on him.”
“He said he didn’t want a surprise. Said if he shot somebody, it was Sam’s fault.”
“He’s getting one.”
“With my luck, he’ll shoot me,” John grumbled.
Bobby patted his shoulder.
“I dunno if I can do this, Bobby. Having the kids and maybe one or two of their friends come over is one thing.”
“That’s why we’re here.”
“I don’t just mean the planning. It’s... having people. In my house.”
“The backyard.”
“The backyard? Isn’t it a little cold for that by Texas standards?”
“M-hm. And we’re doing it right.”
John blinked. “I think you need to clear a bonfire with Frank. Might be a burn ban on.”
“I’ll work on it.”
But by the time John left for work Tuesday morning, he still wasn’t sure what the final plan was. And it annoyed him, partly because it involved his house and partly on Dean’s behalf because he suspected Dean really only wanted dinner and pie and presents.
Dean arrived at Mercer’s on his lunch. “Dad?”
“Hey, son. Happy birthday.”
“Hey, Dad.” He hugged John quickly. “What’re you working on?”
“Installing a deer guard on this truck. Wish you could be here this afternoon, though-got a call from a guy who’s having trouble with a late-model Dodge, sounds like something’s up with the electronics.”
He nodded. “I can be here after four.”
John blinked. “Really? You wouldn’t mind?”
“Absolutely not.” He grinned. Bring my old man into the 21st century kicking and screaming.
John laughed heartily.
Dean’s grin widened. See you four.
John nodded. Thank you.
Dean’s face lit - as it did every time his father used his hands. We make signer of you yet.
John chuckled. “Don’t count on it.”
At 4:02, the Impala pulled up at Mercer’s and Dean got out. He headed right over. Where is it?
“Not here yet. Marcus is having to tow it; apparently things got worse, and now it won’t start at all.”
Model?
“Challenger.”
Dean’s eyes widened and narrowed. Okay.
“Something wrong?”
“Challengers are always doing this.”
“Is it something Chrysler knows about?”
“Yeah, they’re sending out patches for it, but sometimes they’re slow to get here.”
“You know a workaround, though, right?”
Dean smiled slowly. “Of course.”
John grinned. “Glad you’re here, son.”
Dean tilted his head. “I hear the tow truck.”
John nodded. “Come show me what tools I’ll need.”
He did and they picked them out as the truck pulled up in a clear bay. Dean spent the rest of the afternoon showing John not only how to fix that particular problem, but quite a few others that were common on the newer cars. And John saw first hand how good of a teacher his boy was. His pride was clear on his face and in his eyes when he smiled at Dean.
When Mercer finally poked his head out of the office to tell them to take off, John nudged Dean’s arm and said, “Thanks, Teach.”
Dean laughed and rolled his eyes.
“You need to go home, or were you planning to come right over?”
“I need to go home. I’ll be over in an hour.”
“Okay. Thanks for taking time out of your birthday to help me with this. This electronic stuff just baffles me.”
“You’ll get it, Dad. Need a ride home?”
“I do, actually. Ellen was supposed to come get me later, but this way I won’t have to wait for her.”
“Give her a call and we’ll go.”
John nodded and called. Dean drove him home. And John was rather surprised at the lack of cars around his house when they arrived. He didn’t know if Ellen had told the others to high-tail it or what.
They walked into the house and John turned on the light. Nobody jumped out and yelled surprise. That was good; John might be unarmed at work, but he did keep a gun by the front door and might well have shot someone himself even if Dean didn’t.
John punched in his at-home code on his phone, and Dean took his leave, repeating his promise to be back in an hour. Once the door was closed, John sighed. “Okay,” he called. “Where is everybody?”
No answer.
“Ellen?”
Nothing.
Grumbling, John grabbed his sidearm and headed to the backyard. Nobody was there.
“The hell...” John stomped back inside and called Bobby.
“Singer.”
“Bobby, where the hell is everyone?”
“What are you talkin’ about? We’re not supposed to be at your house till six!”
“And what time is it now?”
“Five-thirty.”
John grumbled again and checked his watch; he’d felt sure it was already after 6. “The kids’ll be over in an hour.”
“And we’ll be ready.”
“Half an hour gives you enough time?”
Bobby chuckled. “We’re almost ready.”
John sighed heavily. “Y’know, there’s a reason Mary did all the birthday planning.”
“Which is why all you have to do is be there. First of us will be there in fifteen.”
“Okay. Door’s unlocked.”
“See ya then.”
John sighed again as he hung up and ran a hand through his hair. How the hell did people do this every year?
Fifteen minutes later, his doorbell rang.
“Who’s there?”
“Open up, ya blamed idjit.”
John opened the door. “I told you it was unlocked, dammit.”
Bobby came in and his arms were laden. “And how’m I gonna open it like this?”
“Make two trips. Need help?”
“Yeah.”
John relieved Bobby of part of his load. “Where to?”
“Backyard.”
John headed outside. Together, they got the first round of stuff put together. Ellen arrived five minutes later.
“We’re out back,” John called.
With her taking over, they got it done. Other guests arrived in five- to ten-minute intervals.
And then came Caleb’s call. “They’re coming!”
John dashed inside while everyone else except Ellen and Cooper scurried outside.
Dean walked in. “Wow, that smells good.”
Ellen hugged him first. “Happy birthday, Dean.”
He hugged her back.
“Got something for you out back, Deano,” said Cooper.
“Yeah?” Dean headed that way.
Daphne, Sam, Tricia, and Jo trailed after him, grinning at John.
John shot them a wink.
The second Dean’s body crossed the threshold, everyone yelled “SURPRISE!”
But Dean didn’t jump or curse. Instead he shot a look of fond exasperation at Sam. Did you at least remember the pie?
Sam laughed and nodded.
Dean laughed, too, and slapped his brother on the shoulder. “Well, Dad? You comin’ out with us?”
John just blinked, but he followed them.
The guests were laughing and slapping Dean on the shoulders and back. There was more than enough food for the twenty or so people who’d showed up, and a cherry pie with a candle in it. Dean blew out the candle, and they had a good meal.
The kids had apparently already given Dean their presents that morning, but the other adults hadn’t. Bobby led off with some hard-to-find spare parts for the Impala, which earned him a back-pounding hug. John got the same for his selection of German tapes and John Wayne DVDs.
Ellen gave him a bound journal. “It’s blank now. You can fill it.”
Dean grinned. “Thanks, Ellen. This is a hell of a lot more portable than that database Ash was tryin’ to get me to set up!”
Sam laughed.
Caleb and Rufus had gone together and gotten a trip to Enchanted Rock during Spring Break, complete with reservations at a Gasthaus in Fredericksburg.
“This... this....” Dean shook his head. Too much. Too much.
“You kiddin’?” Rufus chuckled. “We just wanted to give you a chance to see if the rock’s really enchanted!”
Dean laughed and nodded. Thank you.
“And you know it’s a hit when Dean starts talking with his hands,” Ellen laughed.
And so did everyone else, Dean included.
It was a pleasant evening all told, even though Jo was still skittish around John. And Dean gave John another big hug on his way out the door when it was all over.
Maybe, John thought, he actually could get used to this.
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