#hauntedgrace

Dean remains silent, knowing full well those words were never spoken. Still, that doesn’t mean he’s back down. “ It’s apparent enough, ” he snaps back, throwing unadulterated anger and spite into the biting tone. Dean doesn’t need, nor want, BobbyJohn growing up in this kind of environment – with one father that doesn’t take ownership of his child.

A cracked, humorless smile breaks upon his face. “ Guess I wasn’t clear enough — BobbyJohn and I don’t need you, Castiel. ”

There’s so much protectiveness and unconditional love for BobbyJohn coursing through Dean’s veins that he’s not thinking twice about pushing his anchor away. His one instinct is to shield BobbyJohn, keep him close to Dean because Dean is more terrified of failing BobbyJohn once than losing Castiel for the umpteenth time.

Dean feels . . . anger? No, that’s not quite right. It’s a deep seeded, burning red emotion tearing through his psyche. The possible chance BobbyJohn was awakened – after four good hours of trying to get him asleep – just added to the rising tide.

“ What is there to talk about? ” Dean growled, fists folding into an iron clench. “ If he’s nothing to you, why do you care? ”

He’s aware Castiel never actually said those words, but it’s the impressions given; the impression that BobbyJohn is not his son so he should not bother. Dean cocked his head, rolled his shoulders, anything to stave off the accumulating urge to sucker punch the angel.

Dean’s not in the mood — at all. To say BobbyJohn was being difficult was more than underrated. The moment all doors and window slammed shut, Dean’s eyes hardened dangerously, a slight accusing glare focused on Castiel.