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Summary
Dean let his dad pull him inside the motel room, and then he saw him, a man whom he had only seen in photographs, a man whose photograph had never left Dad’s night table.
“Dean,” Dad said, smiling, “this is your uncle Dean.”
Uncle’s eyes widened. A big, wide smile broke his expression, and he shot up like an arrow.
“Damn, he’s got your puppy dog eyes.” Uncle cooed and moved closer.
“Dean,” Dad whined. And it was his name, but somehow it wasn’t. Not the way he said it. Not the way he called him.
“Sorry, sorry.” Uncle chuckled and grabbed Dean’s shoulder. He pulled him in a one-armed hug. “Heya, nephew.”
Series
- Part 2 of Sam and Dean in Heaven
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