nope

It takes two days for Dean to stop avoiding him . Well, two days for Bobby to finally grab him by the shoulder and tell him to stop his damn sulking already. He gets hit with a 'yes sir' that makes his stomach sour.

The next day he calls up that dance studio and asks if they have openings for a boy under thirteen in any of their classes. They have a few. There’s a hip hop class, a jazz class, a tap class, and a ballet class. They tell him his son can come in for a free trial run before he commits to any particular class (Bobby doesn’t bother correcting them)

It takes another two days for him to finally bring up the idea to Dean. The kid isn’t avoiding as much him but he’s still not making eye contact like he did before and keeps conversations to a minimum. Bobby has to practically corner him with a plastic bag that has two new pairs of sweatpants, two new black shirts, and some new socks that the studio had recommended. He hands it to him and tells him he’s got tap on Thursday at 5 and ballet on Saturday at 11. The studio has rental shoes for him and if he likes it Bobby can scrounge up a new pair for him. Dean tries to deny any interest but Bobby just shoves the bag into his arms and tells him to just try the damn thing and he better not be late.

Bobby doesn’t stick around to watch like some of the other parents do. Dean's already to nervous about this and having him watch will probably make him quit all together. He tires Sam out at the park instead. When he comes back to pick him up an hour and a half later, Dean is beaming and so is the instructor. She tells him Dean is a natural with fast reflexes and solid rhythm that would make a great addition to the class. On the drive home Dean excitedly tells him about the cool moves he learned and how he’s already doing stuff other kids who had been in the class for more than a month can do while Sam naps in the back seat.

Saturday rolls around and Dean’s excited energy is palpable. He’s practically vibrating while he helps Bobby prepare breakfast (Bobby hates that he does this, wanting him to just sit back and be a kid for once but Dean gets jittery when he’s not helping out so he allows it) At 10:30 he’s dressed and ready to go even though they don’t have to leave for another fifteen minutes. When they arrive Dean's enthusiasm seems to fizzle out and Bobby has to damn near shove him through the door. He decides to stick around that time, he’s got a library book, two coloring books, and an action figure to keep Sam busy. Dean stays at the back of the class, looking unsure as he glances around the class of twelve girls and only one other boy. His nervous energy is gone after they go through warm ups and stretches. He finally looks like he’s enjoying himself when they get to the part about feet positions and turns. It almost falters when he makes eye contact with Bobby for the first time but he’s prepared for that and shoots the kid a fast thumbs up and is rewarded with a smile.

His teacher was right. Dean picks up everything fast. He takes corrections better than anyone else in the class and Bobby tries not to think about that too hard. He wants to curse John out more than ever when he thinks about the shooting and sparing practice instructions he had left him, along with asking him to teach Dean how to get out of different knots. This is what kids should be doing, not learning how to kill and avoid being killed.

The instructor (a different one this time, the first had been blonde and young this one was red headed and closer to middle age) approaches Bobby after and all but begs him to enroll Dean. Not only is the class desperate for boys so they can do more lifts (which Dean immediately brightens at) but Dean is spectacular and it would be a waste of talent if he didn’t. He enrolls Dean in the summer courses for both classes that same day. Dean gives him a fierce hug and thanks him a thousand times over. That afternoon he gets Dean a pair of his own tap shoes and a pair of ballet slippers, both in black.

Dean gets anxious about the money that’s being spent but Bobby waves him off. Business is doing fine and it’s not like he’s got any one else to spend it on. He tells him doing his chores is payment enough. From then on, the bathroom is cleaner than ever and Dean never has to be reminded about setting the table or putting dishes away.

They fall into a steady routine that’s almost normal. He still takes Dean shooting and quizzes him on lore, but only enough to keep him sharp. And Dean keeps salt, a small bottle of holy water, and an iron ring in his dance bag. On Mondays, Thursdays, and Saturdays Bobby takes Sam to the park or the library after dropping Dean off unless he asks them to stay. On the drive back Dean recounts everything that happened in class and they pick up a treat, sometimes takeout other times ice cream.

And Dean is thriving. He dances any chance he gets. Around the house (although his tap shoes are limited to the kitchen or outside on an old piece of plywood so he doesn’t fuck up the wood flooring), through the aisles when they grocery shop. He even dances with Sammy, using him to practice the minor lifts he’s been taught while Sam giggles up a storm. There’s a recital at the end of August and Bobby’s already got a blank tape set aside with “Dean’s Dance 1990” written in black sharpie on the label. Dean makes friends with the kids in his class. He trades comics with the other boy there and argues with him about who the best superhero is. The girls adore him and not because he’s pulling his typical playground Casanova routine. Bobby can tell it’s different from the way they slug his arm at pick up and he pretends it hurts or how they sneak clips into his hair when he’s not looking and fall over laughing when he snatches them out. (There’s three butterfly clips in the truck’s cup holder from times Dean didn’t notice until they had already driven off) Bobby overhears the girls trying to convince Dean to learn how to french braid which he vehemently says no to but Bobby later finds him practicing on Sam. He's got four different types of braided friendship bracelets tied to the handle of his duffle and he actually gets calls on the main phone line asking if Dean is available to play or go to birthday parties.

For the first time in a long time he looks at Dean and sees an actual kid instead of a soldier shoved inside a too small body.

It’s all perfect. Until John shows up two weeks earlier than he said he would be. A true rarity from the eldest Winchester. Dean and Sam both run into their father’s arms and Dean only lets his face fall for half a second when John announces they’re heading to the east coast and to pack their bags for tomorrow. Bobby tries to argue that they should stay for the time they were promised but John waves him off. He’s already got them enrolled at a school in Maryland that starts on August 30th, the same day as Dean’s would-be recital.

Dean plays it cool, telling all about John how he can shoot down ten cans with ten bullets in under five seconds now and redirecting to how Sammy’s starting on chapter books already when Sam tries to talk about “Dee’s special classes”. But that night, when Bobby does his nightly check ins, he finds Dean face down in his pillow doing his best to muffle his sobs.

Bobby says nothing. There’s nothing he could say that would make Dean feel any better. He can’t tell him it’ll be alright, because it won’t. He can’t tell him he’ll figure something out, because he can’t. He has no real claim to the kids. He can’t tell John to fuck off and leave them be. He certainly can’t tell him why Dean should stay since it would only piss him off and Dean would have to face all the repercussions on his own. The whole situations sucks and Bobby wants to kick himself for leading Dean into something that could cause him so much grief and disappointment.

So he just sits there, perched on the edge of the mattress, rubbing soothing circles into Dean’s shuddering back as he mourns yet another aspect of his childhood lost. Another part of himself he has to push to the side for the sake of his father’s moronic revenge quest.

As the Impala kicks up dust with the Winchesters in tow, Bobby finds Dean’s dance shoes messily shoved far under the bed. He takes them and tucks them into his own closet. By the time the boys stay again, Dean has out grown the shoes by at least two sizes. Not like it matters, Dean doesn’t mention dance again. He acts like a demon splashed with holy water every time Bobby tries to bring it up. He straight up leaves and goes for a two hour walk when he mentions the dance instructors have been asking about him. Bobby has a feeling Dean hid out in one of the abandoned cars but he gives him his space. When they go into town he walks with hunched shoulders and fully ignores the girls that squeal "omg Dean is that you?!" It's like he's erased any part of that summer from his mind, completely scrubbed clean.

He still catches glimpses of it in Dean sometimes. Small fleeting moments. In the way he finds his balance after taking a hard hit. Or how he stretches out his sore muscles, same way he was taught to do for 2 and a half months. He sees it in the spark that flashes in his eyes for only a moment when a tv commercial invites viewers to the South Dakota Performing Arts Center for a rendition of The Nutcracker, before it’s stamped out with a snort and Dean calling it gay as he changes the channel with a forced nonchalance. Bobby takes a swig of his beer to ignore the tightness in his chest when he thinks about how Dean could be on that stage, had he fought a bit harder for him. How he’d be icing sore feet right now instead of a dislocated shoulder and three broken fingers he won’t ever get properly set.

Bobby can never find the will to throw out the dance shoes. He doesn’t even donate them. Because although he’ll never wear them again and he’d probably deny their existence if it was ever brought up, they're still Dean's and he can’t bear to toss away the memories of that last sliver of lost childhood. So they stay in that closet, collecting dust for decades, until the fateful day the house itself gets turned to dust.

Bobby dies never knowing Dean still holds that love for dance deep in his heart. That he’s gone off on his own to watch ballets on stage and movies about it in secret. That it’s still so deep, a pair of cursed pointe shoes that targets dedicated ballerinas calls out to him like a siren song. That when he’s knocked out on laughing gas, he dreams of a tap routine he learned three decades ago that never got to see the stage, etched in his brain like the day he learned it.