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“You are such a hypocrite.”
Dean glowered at Sam, who was obstructing his way to his room with that same old cross-armed stance of disapproval that the moose of a man always assumed when he thought that Dean had fucked up somehow.
“You done?” Dean said shortly. “Thanks for the talk, Samantha.”
He tried to push past Sam but Sam was faster and grabbed Dean by the bicep.
“Nope,” Sam said, firmly guiding Dean to sit at one of the library tables. He sat down across from Dean, leaning forward and resting his palms on his knees like he was some sort of shrink. In his mind, he probably thought he was Dean’s fucked up therapist. Chuck knew Dean wouldn’t ever see a real one.
“Is this the part where you start preaching about how I need to look past the monster, see the human in him, blah blah?” Dean said, crossing his own arms right back.
“Dean –”
“You know what that kid said to me when he was trying to shish-kebab himself?”
“He what?” Sam’s eyes bulged. Dean couldn’t help but take some small, vindictive satisfaction from that. Sam may have overheard the last bit of their conversation but he hadn’t heard Jack’s Olympic-worthy knife event. “Dean, what do you mean Jack tried to shish-kebab himself?”
“Can’t die, remember?” Dean leaned back in his chair, arms still crossed. “He kept stabbing himself with a butcher’s knife, but he healed every single time. Look, that’s not the point,” he hurried to say before a horrified Sam could interrupt again. “Point is, he told me to my face that he was gonna hurt someone.”
“He’s scared!” Sam said. “You heard what everyone’s been saying! He’s got the power of the universe at his fingertips and he has no idea how to use it!”
Power of the universe can’t bring Cas back, Dean thought bitterly. He quickly shut those thoughts down before his brain could start on him again.
“Which means he’s gonna hurt or kill someone and that’ll be on us, Sam. Us. You know why? ‘Cause we didn’t end him when we had the chance.”
Sam’s face tightened with disapproval.
“I don’t know why he looks up to you, Dean,” he said. “I get it. You’re grieving and lashing out. But all Jack wants is your approval. And no matter how much you kick him down, he keeps coming back for more.”
“Hey, I never asked for the spawn of Satan to pick me as some role model!” Dean snapped. He tried to get up and storm out but one venomous look from Sam had him slumping in his seat sulkily.
“Well, that’s how he sees you. I don’t know why, when I’m the only one being nice to the poor guy, but he does. You saw him back in that motel room. He drank his beer like you.”
“Wow, we drank beer together,” Dean said flatly. “Now we’re best friends forever and we’re gonna sit up and braid each other’s hair.”
He was promptly served an order of Sam Winchester Bitchface.
“Maybe he thinks that by being like you, you’ll accept him,” Sam said. “Which makes sense.”
“How? How does becoming a mini me to make me like him make sense?”
“Because…” Sam paused, clearly trying to find the right words to avoid a knee-jerk angry reaction from Dean. That just pissed Dean off even more. Sam only ever did this when he was about to say something super profound but super annoying. “I think…he has some of Cas’ memories of you, Dean.”
The mention of Cas sent white hot anger coursing through Dean.
“Conversation over,” he snarled, pushing himself to his feet. Not even Sam’s poisonous look could dissuade him. However, Sam leaping up and physically pushing him back in his seat certainly did the trick. “What the fuck, Sam?”
“You’re being a hypocrite, Dean!” Sam practically yelled. “You’re turning into Dad!”
Dean reeled like he’d been slapped.
“Excuse me?” he hissed. “You wanna back the fuck up there, Sam?”
“No, Dean, I don’t! Now I’m going to talk and you are going to listen and shut up!”
Sam towered over Dean. Dean could recognise an assertion of dominance when he saw one and he tried to stand up and counter that, only to be held in place by Sam.
“So help me, Dean, I will tie you to that chair if I have to. Now listen!”
Only the knowledge that Sam was dead serious and would actually tie him up kept Dean in his seat. The look of smug satisfaction he got in return made his blood boil.
“Hurry up or shut up,” he said, his jaw set. Sam sighed, shoulders slumping.
“Look…I get it,” he said. “You loved Cas –”
“Sam, shut the fuck –”
“You loved Cas.” Sam fixed him with a narrow-eyed look of ‘shut the hell up or so help me, Dean’. “You can deny it and hide your feelings under macho manliness all you want, Dean. But you loved Cas. Now, I don’t know if you see Jack as being the reason for Cas’ death or you just look at him and see Cas – don’t give me that look, Dean, you can’t deny that he’s practically a mini Cas –”
Dean’s scowl just deepened. Whatever Sam was getting at, he’d better get to it quick or Dean was actually going to shoot him in the shoulder. Maybe he’d get lucky and get the sasquatch right where Bela got him a decade ago.
“Maybe it’s both. But either way, he reminds you of what you lost. And you hate it.”
“Cas wasn’t a ‘what’, okay?” Dean leaned forward, clenching his fists. Sam held his hands up apologetically.
“Sorry. But you get what I’m saying, Dean. You look at Jack and you see Cas. And you want to hate him and call him a monster –”
“Which he is,” Dean interrupted. Sam gave him a pointed look.
“Okay, so you think he’s a monster. But regardless of that, you see Cas when you look at him. And I get it, Dean. I get that must feel like you’re being stabbed in the chest every time you look at him.”
Dean couldn’t help but be reminded of Jack from earlier, rhythmically plunging a knife into his chest and observing that he couldn’t hurt or kill himself no matter what he did. And hell if that wasn’t an accurate description of how Dean was feeling right now. Inevitably, his mind strayed to the very first time he’d met Cas, when the angel had walked into the barn with his billowing trench coat and sparks literally flying. When he’d thrust the demon-killing knife right into Cas’ chest and Cas had just looked at him with a look of detached amusement, like Dean was a particularly fascinating insect. It had taken years for Dean to fall for Cas but damn, that one moment had certainly set the tone for their relationship. He inwardly cringed at the word ‘relationship’.
“Nice psychoanalysis there, Doctor Samantha,” Dean said, crossing his arms tighter. “But that’s not gonna make me stop hating the kid. So why the hell does he want me to like him so damn much?”
Sam was silent at that, brow furrowed in thought.
“He’s been having these memories of when he was in his mom’s womb, right?” he said. “When Kelly was teaching him things and talking to him. I mean, they’re foggy and he doesn’t seem to know what they really mean, but they’re enough to keep him on the path of good.”
“The path of good,” Dean scoffed.
“Shut the fuck up, Dean. He called us his friends and stopped doing what Asmodeus wanted him to do when he realised he was wrong, didn’t he?”
Dean couldn’t quite find a response for that. Sam smiled triumphantly.
“Look, he bonded with Cas, right?” he said, smile fading. “I mean, he was clearly aware enough to choose Cas as his protector and kill Dagon. And he thinks of Cas as his father, not Lucifer. He said so himself.”
“What’s your point? ‘Cause I’m about two seconds from punching you in the face just to get some peace,” Dean said. Sam didn’t rise to the bait this time.
“Maybe he saw some of Cas’ memories when he gave Cas that power and that premonition,” Sam said. “We know Cas loved you. We know he thought the world of you.”
“Don’t know why,” Dean muttered.
“Quit deflecting with your self-worth issues. Look, maybe – I dunno – Jack saw some of those memories. Maybe he saw you how Cas saw you. And even if he doesn’t consciously remember any of those memories, maybe he still remembers on a subconscious level. So it makes sense that he’d try desperately to get your approval. He knows what a good person you can be and he knows how much you loved the guy he thought was his father.”
Dean opened his mouth, then closed it when nothing would escape. There was no way this was true. The fucking spawn of Satan couldn’t possibly think that about him, could he? And there was absolutely no way that Cas could think that highly of Dean that an unborn kid would pick up on that and internalise that. Nope. Not happening.
“He’s still a monster,” Dean insisted stubbornly. Sam groaned and ran a hand through his mane of hair.
“Jesus Christ, Dean! You’re being Dad right now! And I don’t care how pissed that makes you!” Sam added before Dean could retort furiously. “I get that you’re grieving but you’re acting just like Dad did after Mom died! You’re so determined to see anything that’s not human as the bad guys when we know that’s not the case! There are good non-humans, Dean, and you know that.”
“Yeah right, Sam. Since when has trusting a monster ever led to anything good?”
“Cas wasn’t human,” Sam said quietly. “He was an angel.”
“He may as well have been human,” Dean snapped back. “Hell, he was at one point.” Not that they talked about that or else Dean would have to remember how thoroughly he fucked Cas over. “Monsters are bad. We kill monsters. Got that?”
“What about Benny?”
Dean’s blood froze in his veins. Oh, shit. What about Benny? The vampire who’d clearly been non-human and yet had earned Dean’s unwavering trust, while Sam had been suspicious the whole time.
“That’s…different,” he said weakly. Sam homed in on his victory like a shark catching a whiff of blood.
“Really? Because Benny was a pretty non-human guy. Fangs, blood-drinking, the whole works. And if he hadn’t gotten you out, you would’ve killed him like any other vamp.”
“He helped me, okay?” Dean said, even though he knew he was fighting a losing battle.
“So did Jack. As soon as he saw Asmodeus threatening us, he realised what he was doing was wrong. He’s half-human, Dean. That has to count for something.”
“He’s also half-angel. And his angel daddy is freaking Lucifer. You said yourself that he’s gonna end up more powerful than Lucifer. Things like him never end well, Sam.”
“What about Jesse?” Sam said.
“Who?” Dean frowned.
“Jesse Turner. The cambion, remember? Everyone was convinced he was evil, even Cas. But he was just a scared kid trying to make sense of the world. How is Jack any different, apart from being way more powerful?”
Dean remained silent. The tenuous thread of logic he’d held onto since Cas’ death – that non-humans were monsters and monsters were evil – was starting to unravel. And Sam, the bitch, could sense it.
“Look, Dean,” Sam said, voice gentle now that he knew he’d won. “I get you’re hurting over Cas. I am too.”
“You don’t know.” Dean’s voice cracked and he stubbornly swiped at his stinging eyes to ensure that no tears fell, hunching over as his chest started to ache. “You don’t know shit, Sam.”
“I do get it. I didn’t love him like you did but…I’ve lost people too, remember? Jess…Eileen.” Sam looked down, his hazel eyes suspiciously wet. “I know I didn’t love them like you loved Cas. But I do have some idea of how you’re feeling. And if you really loved Cas, you need to do what he’d want you to do.”
“What?” Dean said thickly.
“Look after Jack and be his protector. Keep him away from evil. Everyone wants him, Dean. The angels want his power and so do the demons. But he’s not his father. He’s not Lucifer. And he picked us to be his friends.”
“Only ‘cause we got to him first.”
“So what? He still picked us. He did what Asmodeus wanted until he realised that it would be wrong and we’d get hurt. So clearly he’s forming some sort of conscience, right? If you want to make sure he doesn’t end up hurting people, the best way to do that is to teach him how not to do that.”
“Oh come on, Sammy,” Dean said, though his crossed arms were loosening as he recognised that he’d lost this one. “He’s got no idea how to use his powers. All the moral shit we teach him won’t stop him from doing that.”
“No. But we can make sure that he doesn’t want to hurt people. We can figure out how his powers work and help him get control over them. We can teach him right from wrong and make him see that wanting to hurt people is bad, which he’s already starting to see. What if we kick him out, Dean? What if we give him the boot and Asmodeus or someone else finds him? You think they’re going to teach him how to be good?”
Dean’s whole body slumped. Sam reached out and clapped him on the shoulder.
“Just…try and see him as Jack, okay?” Sam said. “Not as a mini Cas. Not as the son of Lucifer. Just Jack Kline, a person who lost his mom and had to grow up in three days. Remember how fast you had to grow up after we lost Mom the first time?”
“Whatever,” Dean mumbled. Sam smiled at him.
“Sorry about pushing you around, Dean, but you needed to hear that. I get that you’re grieving but you can’t take it out on Jack. Who knows? Maybe he’ll be good for you.”
Sam stood up and headed for the direction of their bedrooms. Dean couldn’t move for a few minutes, rooted to the spot by everything whirling through his head. As much as he hated to admit it, everything Sam said was true. He’d noticed how much like a lost little kid Jack was – which he essentially was, considering that he was only three days old. And he’d definitely noticed Jack trying to emulate him, from how he drank his beer to how he sat. He’d thought that was just Jack learning how to act like a human but…what if Sam was right and Jack was actively trying to be like him because of Cas? And if Sam was right, the kid didn’t even realise why he was doing it.
“Son of a bitch,” he muttered, rubbing his eyelids in exhaustion. He’d have to go and talk to Jack now. Just one little chat, so that he could prove to himself that Jack was really a satanic little monster. Then he’d be right and Sam would be wrong and he wouldn’t have to be nice to Lucifer’s kid. Set, he stood up and strode down the hall to Jack’s room, where the faint sound of voices could be heard.
“What the fuck?” he said to himself, turning the knob and pushing the door open. A smiling Jack was curled up on the bed, still in the clothes he’d gotten from that sheriff and balancing Sam’s laptop on his knees. He looked up as Dean entered and his smile – which, admittedly, was cute in a childish way – slowly faded.
“Hello, Dean,” he said. Dean forced himself to ignore how Cas’ words said by his killer’s son were a knife to the gut. “Is something the matter?”
Dean didn’t answer, instead crossing over to see what Jack was watching. He had to refrain from rolling his eyes when he saw Shaggy and Scooby Doo pedalling in mid-air before running for dear life.
“The hell are you doing?” Dean said. Jack frowned up at him innocently.
“I’m watching Scooby Doo,” he said. “I asked Sam if there was a television here so that I could watch it, so I wouldn’t have to think about what I am and how I scare you. He gave me this and showed me how to find what I wanted to watch.” He looked back at the screen and chuckled softly when Shaggy crashed into the monster. “I like Shaggy. He makes me laugh. Can you really eat a sandwich with twenty layers?”
“What? No, that’s cartoon logic,” Dean said. “Look, shut that off, will ya?”
Jack frowned but obeyed. Dean sighed and sat down on the bed, forehead resting on his hand.
“Dean –”
“Zip it.” Dean held up a finger. “Give me a minute.”
Jack obediently fell silent. After a short pause, Dean sighed.
“We need to talk, okay?” he said. Jack just stared back in response. “Well? Yea, nay, do I have to get this over with or not?”
“You said you needed a minute,” Jack said. “It has only been thirty eight seconds. A minute is sixty seconds long, isn’t it?”
The Cas-like response punched Dean in the gut and left him winded. Jack just continued to watch him, brow furrowed.
“I don’t…hate you,” Dean started.
“But you’re scared of me,” Jack said. “Sam told me so. He said that you were scared that I would hurt the people you feel you need to protect.”
“It’s not just that, okay?” Dean said. “I just…you’re not the first hybrid kid we’ve met. Years ago, there was this kid. Jesse Turner, his name was. He was kinda like you.”
“A nephil?” Jack said. “There was another nephil?”
“No! I mean, yeah, but that was another – look, he wasn’t a nephil. He was a cambion. Human mother, demon father.”
Jack tilted his head, the mannerism so Cas-like that Dean couldn’t breathe for a second.
“And what happened to Jesse Turner?” Jack said. “Did he hurt people? Did you kill him?”
“No. We…tried to get him to come with us and not the demons. But he disappeared. We haven’t seen him since. But if he was hurting people, we’d hear about it.”
“I’m not sure I see your point,” Jack said slowly.
“Look, Sam talked to me, alright?” Dean said shortly. “Jesse couldn’t control his powers either. He killed some people and hurt others. But he couldn’t help that. And…neither can you.”
“But I could still hurt people,” Jack argued.
“But you haven’t, alright?” Dean groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. “You haven’t. And…not all monsters are bad. I had a friend once. Benny. He was a vampire. A monster.”
“And he hurt people?”
“I – no. He lived off blood bags so he wasn’t biting anyone. And he…well, Cas and I ended up in a shitty situation for a year and Benny helped us out of that.” Dean copied Sam and ran a hand through his hair. “Look, my point is that maybe you’re not as bad as I thought you were. Maybe I need to stop thinking of you as the Devil’s kid.”
“My real father was bad, wasn’t he?” Jack said. “Sam called him ‘rough around the edges’.”
A pained noise escaped Dean when Jack used literal air quotes. Jack frowned at him, puzzled.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Dean said roughly. “Your dad was bad, okay? He did shit. He got one of his demons to kill our mom and infect Sammy with demon blood. Then I went to Hell and Sam got hooked on demon blood by another demon and we started the freaking Apocalypse and let Lucifer out of his cage. And then he got out again a few years back – after he spent a year torturing my brother in Hell and made him and Cas go crazy, mind you – and…he possessed Cas.” Dean’s jaw clenched. “He took Cas from me and used him like a fucking puppet. Cas didn’t think he was worth shit thanks to me.”
Jack looked enraptured by the tale, his blue eyes wide. They weren’t the same shade of blue as Cas’ but the colour left Dean off-balance anyway.
“He was a kid throwing a temper tantrum because Daddy got new favourites after making us humans. So he got to talk to God –”
“My grandfather,” Jack interrupted. Dean nodded.
“Yeah, him. But he was still a spoilt brat. He jumped around, possessing people and killing others for the hell of it because he was bitter that God left him again. Then he sexed up your mom and had you, and that was sleazy as all hell because I know she wouldn’t have slept with him if she knew he was Lucifer.”
“But my mother still loved me,” Jack said, frowning. “I…think she told me she loved me.”
“She did.” Dean smiled bitterly, thinking of Mary. Just because he’d made his peace didn’t mean he was suddenly okay with what she’d done. “We tried to get her to not have you. But she did everything she could to make sure you’d be born, even when she learned she was gonna die. So yeah, your dad’s a piece of shit. He’s the reason Sammy and I’ve had such fucked-up lives. But…you’re not him, okay? And if Sam and I can keep you away from that shit and show you what’s good…well, I reckon that’ll piss him off way more than just killing you.”
“You don’t like me,” Jack said. “Is it because I’m a monster? Or did I do something that made you hate me?”
“You’re not a monster, okay?” Dean said. “I’m just…look, I –” He swallowed. “I loved Cas, alright? And I couldn’t stop blaming you for him being killed, even though you couldn’t help being born. I mean, he wouldn’t have died if – you just remind me of him, okay? You act like him and you look a bit like him and every fucking time I look at you, all I can think about is how he’s gone and I’m never getting him back.”
“Oh.” Jack looked down. “I’m sorry for causing you this distress. If you really want me to leave, I can –”
“Not happening. Not when everyone and their mother wants to get their paws on you.” Dean sighed and crossed his arms. “Just…I’ll try, alright? For Cas. I’ll try to stop hating you and I’ll protect you like he wanted. But it ain’t gonna happen overnight.”
“You’re grieving,” Jack said. “Sam told me that too. I understand that such a loss would cause you immense pain. I – I think I felt Castiel’s love for you when we bonded and he became my father. I don’t quite know how to make sense of these memories yet.”
Dean eyed Jack for a moment, taking in the kid’s stiff posture and downcast eyes. He sighed.
“Like I said, I don’t hate you,” he said. “I just don’t like you either. But if you give me a reason, that could change. Prove to me that you’re not Lucifer Jr. and maybe I’ll quit harassing you.”
He was floored when Jack looked up and gave him a wide, gummy smile. Okay, how much of him genuinely liked Dean and how much of it was Cas’ influence?
“I don’t want to be bad, Dean,” Jack said. “I want to be good and help people, like you do. I want to be good like my mother and Castiel said I would be.”
Despite himself, as much as he tried to hold it back, Dean couldn’t help but give Jack a small smile. It didn’t hurt any less, losing Cas. Making peace with Jack hadn’t miraculously made all of that go away. But maybe looking out for the kid like Cas had wanted would help. Maybe he could do one last thing for Cas even though his angel was gone.
“It’s a start, kid.” Dean reached out and clapped Jack on the shoulder. “It’s a start.”