Work Text:
- Campfire
“Do you remember when Dad taught us how to start a campfire, Bear Grylls style?” Sam asked his brother. They were in the woods sitting by the fire, drinking beer. It was their father’s birthday, and the brothers decided to celebrate by remembering the old days.
Then…
Sam was holding the fireboard while Dean was working the spindle with the bow he had fashioned from a stick and his shoelace. They had been at it for a while, and Dean wasn’t sure how much longer his arms would hold out when they finally got a coal.
Sam whooped excitedly before helping his brother transfer it to a nest of dry grass and twigs. Before long they had a full-fledged campfire going and they were high-fiving each other.
They turned to their dad who was watching them, face impassive. The boys calmed down, worried that he would criticize either their method or the length of time it took them to complete the task. Dean was ready to take full responsibility in order to protect Sam from whatever harsh thing their father might have to say. But then, much to their delight, a smile broke out on John’s face, which in turn made the boys smile again.
“That’s a great job boys. I'm very proud of you.”
“Really dad?” Sam asked earnestly.
John’s smile drooped somewhat. It hurt him that his children would actually question the validity of his pride in them. He was a hard man, he knew, but not because he wanted to be—or could even help being.
“I know I’m rough on you boys, but it’s not because I’m a just a mean dad. I have to be. And one day maybe you’ll understand. But you need to know that no matter how much I yell or push, nothing you boys could do would ever take away my pride in you. I love you boys more than anything. I would kill for you; I would die for you. Never forget that. Never forget that your father loves you.”
The boys tackled John with hugs. John Winchester wasn’t big on sharing his feelings. He told them he loved them, praised them when they did well and corrected them...well often. They knew they were loved, but it was nice when their old dad peeked out from beneath the hard man who had replaced him. Sam and Dean reveled in it, then they got to make s’mores.
Now...
“I know that dad and I butted heads more often than not, but I know now that he was hard because he had to be. Maybe things would be different if I had understood that sooner—”
“Sam, don’t do that to yourself,” Dean said insistently. He didn’t want his brother to beat himself up over things that could not be changed.
Sam only nodded, “I just meant that, no matter what he said or did that I didn’t understand or agree with, I get now why he raised us the way he did. And I will never again doubt his love for us.”
“What do you want from me Sam?” Dean grumbled.
“I just don’t want you to hate him because he made mistakes. And I know it sounds ridiculous coming from me. But I get it now. Dad did the best he could and maybe his best could have been better, but it also could have been worse. And now whenever I see or make a campfire I will be reminded of how much dad loved us.”
Sam placed a comforting hand on Dean’s shoulder, squeezing gently. Dean just rested his hand over Sam’s and continued to stare into the fire.
Sam was right. If their father hadn’t raised them to hunt, they wouldn’t have been prepared when Azazel came for Sam. Teaching them to hunt and fight is what had saved the world on more than one occasion, but more importantly it’s what had saved Sam. Because Dean could survive many things, death, hell, purgatory, but the one thing he couldn’t survive was life without Sam.
So Dean could also look at a campfire and remember their father with perhaps not fondness, but love, respect, and gratitude.