Kissing the top of the child’s forehead, John watched his baby boy slowly drift in his crib. It wasn’t a huge surprise to him that Sam’s first word was “daddy”. Whispering his I love you, he then turned back, out of the room and into the main area where he sat down on the couch, pulling out his journal to continue writing. It had been six months since Mary died. Dean still wouldn’t utter a word.
As weeks past, they continued to wander the country. John’s ambition seemed to become more prominent with every case he finished. It had been eight months since Mary died. Dean still wouldn’t utter a word.
They found their way back to Lawrence, Kansas. John had decided to take his children to visit Mary’s grave. Sammy was walking, able to form a few sentences even. As he waddled up to the grave, he immediately looked over it in curiosity. “I miss mommy.” he pouted and John sighed, closing his eyes as he picked up his baby boy. “I know, Sammy, I miss her too.”
Dean slowly approached the grave, a single rose at hand as he laid it down against the tombstone. Tears in his eyes, he fell to his knees. “I miss mommy,” his voice trembled as he started to sob. It had been one year, and Dean had spoken for the first time.
"Don’t cry like a child, Dean!" John immediately snapped. "Be a man. You’re too old to cry and say mommy. Get up and don’t be a baby."
Dean stumbled to his feet, fear in his eyes as he immediately turned to his father, nodding with a quivering lip as he wiped his tears away. “Yes, sir.”