Chapter Text
Dean was woken up to the sound of John shuffling around the house. He yawned, looking at the alarm clock. 7am. He groaned and pulled the pillow over his face, not wanting to be awake yet. He felt himself drifting off again right as John walked up to the spare room and knocked on the door. John never knocked when Dean was actually a kid. He raised an eyebrow. “Uh.. come in?”
“You’re up! Are you ready for breakfast?” John leaned against the wall and watched Dean rub at his eyes, barely even being conscious for longer than 5 minutes. “I’ll take that as a no.” John chuckled and threw a small bag towards Dean. He was impressed when the boy caught it with ease. His motor skills still haven’t rusted after all these years. Well, it could be that they did rust, his 14 year old body likely just revived them.
“What’s this?” Dean yawned and stared at the little bag, puzzled.
“Open it and find out.” John made a mental note on how Dean waited for a command. He didn’t know what to do unless he was told to do it.
Dean shrugged and unzipped the bag. Inside laid a new toothbrush and some other simple toiletries. Most of them were… a little bit childish. The toothbrush was fine, but John had gotten him flavored toothpaste. The bubblegum kind. There wasn’t even a razor in there for shaving. “Thanks..” Dean looked unamused. “I can use regular toothpaste, I’m not 4.” Dean wrinkled his nose and zipped the bag back up.
“Yeah, I guess you can. But bubblegum tastes better.” John dismissed the concern.
“Alright, get out. I need to change.” Dean hopped up out of bed and placed the bag on the nightstand. John blinked, staring at him with faux confused eyes.
“You don’t need help?” He teased. Dean fake laughed and pointed towards the door.
“I can dress myself fine, thank you very much.” He spoke sarcastically. The door shut with a giggling John on the opposite end.
Rummaging through his duffel bag he pulled out a simple flannel, black t-shirt and some blue jeans. Casual wear. This wasn’t exactly a fancy get together. He quickly undressed and pulled the t-shirt over himself, soon followed by him pulling the flannel on top of it. He squinted and looked down at himself, immediately noticing something was wrong. The sleeves on the flannel were so much bigger then he remembered, and the t-shirt was almost down to his mid thigh. he silently cursed. “Go to hell, witches.” He spoke out loud, gritting his teeth. A wave of emotions started to fill him, something he hadn’t experienced since he was actually a teen. It felt harder to control them, he felt unregulated. He was frustrated, angry, and inpatient all at once. Not to mention how humiliating it is for your clothes to look like they don’t even belong to you, appearing to be 3 sizes too big.
The door creaked open and Dean sluggishly made his way out. “Dad!” He called down the hall.
John peeked around the corner. “..did you actually need help?” He made his way over to the room.
“No! I— ugh,” Dean was more frustrated now. He understood that John was just messing with him but he didn’t want to laugh right now. He just wanted clothes that fit.
“What’s up?” John stood in front of his boy and immediately recognized the issue. However, in his eyes, this was the cutest issue that Dean could have possibly had. The oversized clothes really seem to put an emphasis on how small Dean was now. He was pushed out of his thoughts when Dean spoke.
“None of my damn clothes fit me anymore,” he huffed out, and John noticed how frustrated the poor kid was.
“Alright. Breathe, kid. This isn’t the end of the world. I’m sure I still have some of your old clothes laying around somewhere.” John reassured, but this only seemed to upset the kid more.
“Oh yeah, I'm sure I can fit into one of my old Sesame Street shirts from when I was 3.” Dean felt his face getting hot. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. He repeated to himself.
“No, bud. I’m sure I have some of the clothes you used to wear when you were 16. Take a deep breath, okay?” John seemed to feel bad for Dean, and this shocked the teen down to his core.
Dean wasn’t used to this. He wasn’t used to his dad being this nice to him. He wasn’t used to his dad sympathizing with him. And even worse, his dad was trying to comfort him. It was all so overwhelming, but he refused to cry. He sucked it up as much as he could, not wanting a single tear to fall. “Okay,” he squeaked out.
——————-
A couple minutes passed before John walked back over with a large bin in his arms. Dean perked up upon seeing it. “Is that all my stuff?”
“Sure is.” John placed it down on the ground with a huff and pulled back the lid, revealing piles of old clothes and some random childhood trinkets. Dean pretended not to notice the porn magazines stashed at the bottom. Jeez, John really kept everything. Probably to make fun of him when he was older.
“Jesus, you let me wear this?” Dean pulled out an old shirt that read ‘ Milf Magnet’. John only shrugged.
“Not like I could’ve stopped you. I was never home.” John said it mindlessly, and it took Dean by surprise. He wasn’t expecting the subtle accountability.
Dean rummaged through the bin until he found something that didn’t look too much like he was a feral rogue teenager that didn’t have parents. A simple white band t-shirt with a brown flannel. He was pleased with the outfit, even thinking that he pulled it off really well. John smiled at him.
“Oh, forgot to tell ya. Sam wants to talk to you later. Told me to tell you to give him a call after breakfast.” John closed up the bin and started to carry it back off to the closet.
——————-
They arrived at the diner and Dean immediately asked for the dessert menu. All he wanted was pie right now. He hadn’t had such a bad sweet tooth in a long time. Being 14 was really changing him in dumb ways. John chuckled and took the dessert menu, handing him the main one instead. “You can order pie after you eat, kid.”
Dean squinted but listened nonetheless. He skimmed over the menu and decided on a stack of pancakes with a side of bacon. The waitress came over and took their order and Dean of course attempted to flirt with her, forgetting that he was in the body of a teenager. She blinked and ignored him. He frowned.
Their food arrived and Dean housed it down as if he hadn’t eaten in years. John was simple, all he ordered was a black coffee and some scrambled eggs. He really only came here for Dean, anyway. Watching his boy enjoy a warm meal made him happy.
“Pie?” Dean asked with a stuffed mouth, crumbs falling off his chin.
“Jesus Dean, chew.” John handed the kid a napkin. “Yeah, I’ll get you a pie. They have some nice options here. Apple, blueberry, chocolate—“ Dean cut him off.
“Blueberry.” He was full of excitement. He waited almost an hour for this and he was expecting it to be the best pie he would ever have in his life.
A hot plate was placed in front of him and his face lit up. “Oh my god,” He spoke eagerly. “This looks delicious.”
“Yeah? Well, eat it, tell me how it is. I’ve had their apple pie, it’s really..—“ Dean was already wolfing down the pie. “..good.” John smirked.
——————
They arrived back home and John left the house to give Dean full privacy. He suspected they wouldn’t be on the phone too long so he decided to go grocery shopping to pass the time. Dean held the phone up to his ear and listened as Sam breathed into the mic.
“Hey, Dean. How’s it over there? Is dad driving you crazy?” He joked.
“Actually, no. Dude, dad is like… weirdly different. I mean, he left the house. To give me privacy. Privacy, Sam.” He sounded mind blown.
“What? Wow, man.” Sam sounded genuinely shocked by that. He didn’t think John was actually capable of being an okay-dad. Not good, not great. Just okay. He didn’t know any further details to make an impression just yet.
“Listen, Dean, I’m working hard on finding a reversal spell, Rowena is trying her best, too. Closest we’ve got so far is a spell that’ll age you up a few years.” Sam offered.
For some reasons, Dean felt compelled to say ‘no’. He wasn’t sure why, all he wanted was to be an adult again. He bit his lip, every bone inside him telling him to say ‘yes’. He breathed shakily. “Nah. I’m good. I don’t want it unless it’s the full thing. What good will I be at 18 anyway? Can’t even buy alcohol at that age.”
Sam raised an eyebrow at that. “Uh, you sure, man? I mean, it would be better than nothing.” Sam offered again.
Dean stood his ground. “I’m good, Sammy.” He fiddled around with his flannel sleeve and waited in anticipation for Sam to call him weird, or make fun of him somehow. However, that didn’t happen.
“Alright, man. If you say so.” Sam shrugged it off, not thinking much else about it. Dean sighed from relief.
The call ended and Dean sat in the living room, awaiting John’s return.