Chapter Text
“Hey mom. I start school tomorrow… Ninth grade. High school. I know, can you believe it? I… I wish you were here to take cheesy pictures and stuff. Dad said he will but it’s not the same.” A fine mist of rain dusted his hair and eyelashes as Ben stood in front of his mother’s grave. Dean stood a little way back, giving his son what privacy he could. It was a tradition Dean wished he’d never needed to start, visiting Lisa’s tombstone on the last day of summer vacation. Sometimes Dean stood next to Ben, sometimes, like this time, he gave the young man privacy.
His ex-wife’s death had hit their son hardest, of course, but Dean wasn’t immune. The passing of time hadn’t really made it easier, just less immediate. These visits seemed to give Ben closure, though, so Dean certainly wasn’t complaining.
The teenager talked for a few more minutes, telling his mother about his soccer tournament that morning, and how he was looking forward to starting the school team in the fall. When he’d talked himself out, he returned to Dean’s side with shoulders hunched and his head bowed.
“C’mon, sport,” Dean said, giving Ben a big hug. The boy dropped his head on his father’s shoulder for a long moment. Dean hugged him tight, waiting until Ben pulled away before wrapping an arm around his son’s shoulders. “IHOP, yeah?”
That was the other part of their tradition, going to Lisa’s favorite restaurant. Sometimes they talked about her, sometimes they didn’t, but it always made them feel closer to her.
Ben nodded, letting his father guide him to the Impala and open the passenger door. The teen slid inside and hunched against the seat. Dean ached to be able to comfort him, but knew there really wasn’t much he could do. With a sigh, he headed to the driver’s side and slid inside.
It wasn’t far from the cemetery to the IHOP, which Dean thought was a benefit of living in a small town. He didn’t like marinating in dark thoughts too long. Their drive was quiet, as it always was, each of them wrapped up in private memories.
They pulled into IHOP and Dean groaned. “Gonna be a long wait, buddy,” he said, nodding at the “Sioux Falls Fire Department” van sitting in the parking lot. “There’s like, ten of them in line.” He could see them through the doors but he wouldn’t suggest another venue. This was tradition, like it or not.
Dean led the way into the restaurant, and sure enough there was a line of men in SFFD sweatshirts filling the benches inside the door. Ben sidled close, letting Dean put an arm around his shoulders again. Generally he was ‘too old’ for that kind of thing, but days like these always left him a little vulnerable. The noise from the boisterous firemen was enough to make him quiet and contemplative again.
The men were polite, if a bit noisy, and Dean found his eyes drawn to one in particular. A bear of a man, he had a scruffy beard and a creole accent. That in itself was a rarity all the way up in South Dakota. His blue eyes and what seemed to be a wicked sense of humor were just as entrancing. If this were any other day, Dean might have screwed up his courage to talk to him. Today, though, was about his son, and when the waitress came and seated the rowdy bunch of firefighters, Dean put him from his mind.
“Yanno, your mom, health nut that she was sometimes, thought pancakes were the greatest invention ever.” Dean chuckled. Lisa had vacillated between health nut yoga teacher and absolute junk food addict. That had made for some interesting dinners, that was for sure.
“Yeah.” Ben was still looking at his shoes, but his words were more wistful than sad. “She loved the blueberry syrup here.” He glanced up at Dean. “Do you think she would have been excited about me joining soccer this year?”
Dean laughed incredulously. “Excited? Man, she would have gotten herself kicked out of the games because she was shouting too loud.” He grinned, glad to see Ben relaxing a little and nodding along.
“Yeah… You’re probably right.” He looked about to say more, when the hostess spoke up.
“Dean and Ben? I’ve got you right over here.”
Dean released Ben and nodded after her. “Go ahead,” he said.
Ben followed her, weaving between tables and toward a booth by the window. Dean’s attention was all on Ben as they walked, hardly even noticing when they passed the firefighters again.
They sat and each picked up a menu, Dean skimming his quickly and setting it down. It was more of a formality than anything else; he always ordered the chicken fried steak breakfast, over easy eggs with a side of pancakes. Ben was more of a wild card, but by the time the waitress appeared to take their drink orders, he was ready too.
“Hi! I’m Lilah, I’ll be taking care of you folks today, can I get you something to drink?”
“I’ll have a hot chocolate, and a water,” Ben said. “And to eat I’ll have the banana short stack, uh, hold the nuts, please, two eggs over-easy and a side of hash browns and sausage.”
The waitress chuckled. “Teenagers… You eat like my sons.” She shook her head and looked over at Dean. “And for you sir?”
“Ah, coffee, please. Chicken fried steak breakfast, eggs over easy.”
“Alright.” The waitress said, jotting it down quickly. “I’ll be right out with your drinks.”
She scooped up their menus and then headed back toward the kitchen, and Dean leaned back in the booth. “So, soccer season. Did they find a new assistant coach yet?”
Ben shook his head. “No… Miss Freeman said she could help out sometimes but the varsity team has a lot of games. I hope they find somebody soon. They said maybe we wouldn’t get to do as much if they only have one coach, because they have to focus on the varsity team.”
Dean frowned, scrunching his nose. “I’m sorry, buddy. You know if I knew anything about soccer I’d totally do it, right? I’m sure they’ll find somebody though, there’s a couple weeks before the season starts.”
“Yeah, I know. It’s just frustrating.” Ben reached for his placemat, flipping it over to the blank side. Dean fished a pen out of his pocket and passed it across the table to his son who doodled a quick swirl on the paper, then passed pen and paper to his father.
“Oh, a hard one,” Dean said, taking a moment before deftly turning the swirl into a cartoony looking squirrel. He followed it up with another little doodle before passing them back to Ben. A cat, a shark, and a car followed suit before the waitress was back with drinks and food.
“Alright, I’ve got a chicken fried steak, eggs over easy?” She set it down along with the side of pancakes when Dean gestured, and then set Ben’s pancakes down in front of him. “Can I get you boys anything else?”
“No, I think we’re good,” Dean said, shaking his head as she set down his coffee and Ben’s hot chocolate.
“Alright, well just flag me down if you need me,” she said before sauntering away.
Ben cut into his pancakes, his mood a little more thoughtful again. “Thanks, Dad,” he said. “Y’know, for…” He gestured to the room with his fork.
Dean understood, and knocked his boots against Ben’s under the table. “Any time, kiddo. Any time.”