Work Text:
Sam looked around the living room. His parents were there, along with his brother and his wife, and his husband. “Okay, anyone else getting flashbacks to my time in college, or is it just me?” It was meant as a joke, but no one so much as cracked a smile. Sam’s stomach dropped, and he held up his hands in a gesture of innocence. “I swear, I have not touched anything stronger than alcohol since the intervention. What’s this about?”
“Sam… you know drugs aren’t the only thing it’s possible to become addicted to, don’t you?” Castiel started. “I’ve expressed my concern several times, as have Dean and your mother, and we’ve all been brushed off. This is our next step before more drastic measures will become necessary.”
Sam frowned, trying to figure out what Castiel was talking about. He couldn’t remember any arguments with Castiel or anyone else. Well, not unless you counted Castiel telling him he was working too hard, but that couldn’t be what they meant. Long hours came with being a popular lawyer. It was just part of the territory. Castiel might not like it, but what was Sam supposed to do?
John rolled his eyes. “Sam, you know damn well what your husband means. Don’t you dare pretend like you never told me off. I was gone for days at a time, which you’re not, but when I was there, I was there. You and Dean got to see me. When’s the last time you saw Jack for something other than kissing him goodnight?”
“I saw him…” Sam trailed off. Having been on a FaceTime call so that he could see Jack’s kindergarten awards ceremony, where he won Best Helper, was probably not going to count. Neither would seeing him for thirty seconds as he rushed out the door late to work. When was the last time he’d spent quality, in-person time with his son? He ran a hand through his hair. “I guess three weeks ago, when his school had… oh, god.” He winced as he remembered. “Career Day.” Sure, he’d been there for Jack, but he’d been there in his professional capacity as well, talking to the kids about being a lawyer. “Shit. Not since Easter.” And it was almost Memorial Day.
“Well, at least you remember that much,” Dean muttered, shooting a glare at John. “Sammy, we know you work hard. We know your work is important, not just to you, but to this community. We know you hate the thought of turning clients away, because of what it might mean to them to not be able to get the best lawyer around. And we’re not saying that’s bad.”
“What we are saying is that I’m scared,” Castiel took over, reaching out for Sam’s hand. “Sam, when I tucked Jack in after that Career Day, he was so proud of you. That, I approved of and encouraged. When he said he wanted to be just like you… it scared me. I never liked it when it was just me, when seeing you meant staying up very late but I would at least get to see you every day. When Jack said he wanted to be just like you… I asked him why. He said he thought that if he were like you, you’d be proud of him and the two of you could spend time together at work.”
Sam wanted to melt into the chair. Castiel had always complained about Sam spending so long at work, but it had gotten so much worse over the last few weeks, and Sam had just kept blowing it off like always. This wasn’t like always. How had he fallen so far? It should never have been like always, Sam saw that now, but that, he couldn’t do anything but change in the future. This was hurting someone who couldn’t fight back or leave if he couldn’t find any other way. Jack was a child. He couldn’t fight back. He couldn’t leave. All he could do was hurt. “I didn’t… I never realized…”
“We know, Sam,” Mary said as gently as she could. “Baby, if we thought you were doing this on purpose, intentionally hurting Jack, we’d be contacting one of your rivals to get representation for Castiel in the divorce with full custody for him. Dean wanted to just kick your ass like brothers always do, but I thought talking or bringing this to you professionally would be a better example for Jack.”
“You’re right.” Sam ducked his head, running ahead through the next couple weeks. “Actually, I may have a solution. You guys remember Kevin?” College student Kevin Tran had done an internship with Sam the summer before his senior year in college, four years earlier. He’d contacted Sam three months ago to let him know he was almost finished with law school and ask Sam to serve as a reference as he looked for a job. “Eileen thinks I should bring him on, have him handle some of the more routine cases until he gains enough experience to be a partner. I’ve been hesitant, but something has to change, and this seems like a good fix. It won’t cure everything, but it should let me offload at least some of the work.”
“It’s definitely a step in the right direction,” John agreed. “Solves the near-term problem. What about long term, though?”
Luckily, Sam had a good answer for that one, too. “Same thing I did with the drugs in college. Yes, I know, it’s more time away from my family, but since I’m going to be freeing up a good deal of that, taking an hour a week for seeing a counselor should help me figure out strategies for changing my mindset. Until I can get that set up, we can kick around some rules.” Sam thought for a bit. Back then, the rules had been things like “break up with Ruby” and “don’t go to parties unless you know for a fact that there will not be anything tempting there” and “not even beer unless you’re with someone responsible like Dean.” Those wouldn’t work, but he could come up with a couple good ones that did apply to this situation. “I don’t work on Sundays unless it’s a true emergency, as defined by Eileen being the one to call me since she’s been trying to get me to do that for over a year now. Home no later than six, even if I have to get on my laptop after Jack goes to bed until we can get Kevin… or someone else, if Kevin has a better job offer somewhere… installed and up to speed.”
“It’s a drastic change, but I think you’ll be happier for it in the long run.” Castiel crossed the room to crouch beside Sam, hugging him tightly. “Thank you for listening. I know it’s not easy.”
“No, but it’s important. I owe you so many apologies, Cas.” Sam kissed his cheek. “Is Jack still awake, do you think?”
“He’s not supposed to be, but…” Dean looked over at the doorway. “Get in here, you little monkey, I think your dad’s got something to say to you.”
Jack came in, arms wrapped around his stuffed duck. “Dad? Are you in trouble?”
“Yes, I am,” Sam said, getting out of his chair to kneel in front of Jack. “I haven’t been listening to the people who care about me and taking care of myself, and I’ve hurt you in a way I swore I never would when I had kids. I’m so sorry, Jack. You should never have thought that you needed to be just like me and work like I do in order for me to be proud of you and spend time with you. I am very proud of you, and I will be proud of you no matter what you choose to do with your life. What I’m not proud of is how I’m never around for you. From now on, I will be.”
Jack thought that over. “I know your work is important, Dad. I don’t want people to suffer because of me.”
“And I don’t want you to suffer because of me. But you are. You’re just as important as any of the work I do, and I need to make you a priority.”
“Pinky promise?” Jack held out a hand, pinky extended.
Sam linked pinkies with his son. “Pinky promise. You know I can’t go back on that, now.”
“Yay!” Jack threw his arms around Sam, accidentally bonking him in the head with the duck. “Does that mean you can come to my baseball game tomorrow?”
Sam caught himself before the usual excuse of needing to work could slip out. He did have a phone call he needed to make, but depending on when the game was, he could call before or after the game. “I’ll be there, kiddo. If you play a good game, why don’t we go get ice cream after? My dad used to do that when I had soccer games.”
Jack pulled back, head tilted in thought. “How do you define a good game? Because I’m not a great hitter or anything.”
“I mean you play your hardest and after the game you can look me in the eye and say you did your best. I don’t care if you strike out every at-bat and drop every ball that comes your way in the field, as long as you’re doing your best.” Sam didn’t say it, but mentally, he was adding commentary about how terrible a dad he was for not having any idea what Jack’s best looked like. It was not useful, nor was it necessary, but it was at least true. With time and getting back into practice, Sam could block those thoughts, but at least he could keep it from coming out of his mouth.
“Yay! Ice cream!” Jack started bouncing, duck flopping adorably beside him.
“But first, you are supposed to be in bed, Jack,” Castiel interrupted. “Sam, perhaps you should take him upstairs and tuck him in?”
“Yep. After all, how are you supposed to play your best baseball if you didn’t get a good night’s sleep?” Sam got to his feet and ruffled Jack’s hair before leading him to bed.