Work Text:
Dean notices it before anyone else.
The subtle stimming, the unease in large crowds, the panic in Jack's eyes when there's a sudden noise, or when there is too much noise full stop.
Dean hadn't sought out his own diagnosis until he was nearing his fourties. He wants better for Jack; he won't suffer like Dean did.
Sam may have been the one to cover the lore research back in their hunting days, but that doesn't mean that Dean can't — especially when it's simply gathering information on a topic he is already well versed in.
Jack is a curious being. He likes to ask questions, know the ins and outs of all he wonders. Dean, however, does not want to barge into Jack's room and stun him with a label. No, that isn't what this is about.
Besides, if someone had entered Dean's personal space and slapped a label on him, he'd have decked the son of a bitch.
The compromise is a binder. Full of articles and resources from reliable sources only. No 'autism mommy' blogs, or 'autism warriors' shit. Instead, the binder is full of scientific facts, accounts from other autistic people, and various organisations that are helping to debunk myths about autism and those who are autistic. Oh, and a note from Dean telling him they can talk if he wants to. He suspects he will.
And finally, because if Dean is going to do, this he's going to do it right—the binder is arranged alphabetically. Sam would be proud.
It's later on in the afternoon that Dean is proven right. As he brings the groceries in from the car, he notices Jack watching him from the couch. It does not take long for Jack's footsteps to be trailing behind him.
Still, Jack is silent as they go about putting the groceries away. It's only when Dean is opening the cupboard to replace the empty peanut butter jar, that Jack speaks up.
"So, you think that there's something wrong with me?"
Dean freezes.
It pours over him like ice water; the memories.
Nine years old and upset because his socks weren't sitting right. 'Screwing up' a case at nineteen because it was too loud and he was overwhelmed; couldn't focus. Going non-verbal after a heavy hunt at twenty three and being told to 'man up'. The hell is wrong with you? was spat at him each and every time, that last word punctuated with a slap around his head.
"Dean?"
Although the voice is soft, Dean jumps at his name all the same. Rerooting himself in reality once again, he finds Jack in front of him, eyes full of guilt and worry, hand stretched out halfway to his shoulder.
Knowing Jack is soothed by physical affection, Dean takes his hand, lets them drop between them. "I don't think there is anything wrong with you," he says, glad for the relief that washes over Jack's features. "How about you help me with dinner, and we can talk about it?"
"Yeah, I'd like that," Jack says. He eyes the ingredients left out on the counter. "So…" he looks back to Dean with a smile, "cheeseburgers. Are they your safe food?"
Dean finds himself grinning. Gently, he nudges Jack with his elbow. "Now you're getting it."
The conversation starts swiftly after. Jack asks questions as he chops the lettuce, and Dean answers them as he preps the pan.
"Does it feel good?" Jack asks, the two of them now at the table. "Knowing, I mean. Knowing that you're autistic."
"Personally, it was like everything suddenly made sense," Dean explains. "There was some anger, too. Some grief. I wished I'd been able to get my diagnosis sooner, known myself better at a younger age. But John would've never allowed it." Sam and Dean could hunt monsters and live on the road, but being neurodivergent? That was where John Winchester drew the line.
Jack frowns. He raises his hand, and after a beat of hesitation, he rests it on Dean's shoulder. "Thank you. For being better than him, with me."
In a gesture that he usually reserved for Castiel only, Dean pulls Jack into his arms, and holds him close to his chest. He lets it continue for a little longer than he's comfortable with, letting Jack rest his head against him. "Come on," he says eventually, pulling away. He pats Jack's shoulder lightly, "if my safe food gets cold 'cause of you, I'm gonna kick your ass."
Jack grins, sitting down. He gets through one mouthful before an avalanche of questions come from him.
Dean responds with what he was never given; patience, understanding, and an active listening ear.