likely_evil | Father and Son Outting

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Father and Son Outting

When word had come along that there was a werewolf terrorizing local folks in a small Nebraskan town, Sam realized he had still yet to teach Michael about hunting werewolves. Michael had wanted his training to come from his father, and Sam actually enjoyed the outings.

Now that Michael was older, it was a bit harder to find things in which there both connected. It wasn't like how Sam had been with his own father, it was just that Michael was making his own path in the world, and Sam had chosen to take a step back and let his son make the choice on inviting his father into certain parts of his life.

Sam hoped it was the right choice. Fatherhood didn't come with an instruction manual, after all.

He just treated Michael how he had wanted to be treated growing up. It was the best option, and really the only thing he could think of as being the fairest way to do it.

So when the werewolf case came across his desk, Sam went up to their suite level and knocked on Michael's door, offering him a chance to do a bit of training. Michael had jumped at it, so they made plans to head out that night.

As Sam was packing, his eyes fell on the weapons safe. He remembered Dean and him talking about passing down the guns, and Sam remembered that he still had a box of silver bullets for them. It was probably the best time to do this and have it mean something more than just a gift.

He packed the guns and the rounds in his bag, then packed it all into the car to go.

Nebraska wasn't that far away, but it would involve them having to get a place to stay and setting up a post. Sam found it amusing that 200 years later, the crappy motels still existed with their bad designs, ugly wallpaper, and questionable sheets.

But it was familiar, and unless Michael had an objection, it was where they would end up staying while tracking this werewolf.

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"He seems to be fully in control. It could lead to understanding how the mind works in that form and help others..."

Sam was thinking beyond just caring for the kid. Of what it could mean to the Initiative.

Michael looked at his father out of the corner of his eye. "He's not a guinea pig, Dad."

Sam gave his son a look. "I know. I'm just saying that Kale might end up helping a lot of people who probably feel just as lost and alone as he did when this first happened."

"Just checking," Michael sighed, pushing himself up on his feet and dusting himself off. "You can be a little out of touch sometimes." He didn't mean it to offend, he was just stating a fact.

"I can be out of touch a lot of times, if you listen to your mother enough," Sam smirked. "He's a little boy, and he actually looks cute in that fuzzy way."

He looked at Michael. "You do realize that you're probably going to end up having a little brother at the end of the day..."

He shrugged. "I don't mind. He's not all that bad a kid."

Sam thought for a moment, then smirked. "Though I wouldn't mind have a grandson..."

Michael paused for a minute, before looking back at his father. "Shut up."

Sam laughed and walked up behind his son, patting him gently on the back. "Not that I'm rushing you. You're lucky in knowing that Mom and Dad will live long enough to see them."

"I'm ready!" Kale came back out with his shirt turned up. There were a few cars, a baseball, some toy soldiers and the fox tail in the shirt.

Michael grinned at Kale, before starting to head towards the car. "I think we might have a bag for that."

Kale looked up at Michael confused. "Why do I need a bag? My shirt works just fine."

Sam chuckled, opening the door. "Climb on into the back."

Looking in, Kale tilted his head. "I get the whole back seat?"

"Yup," Michael nodded, before moving to slide in the front. "Make yourself at home."

Kale climbed in, dropping his toys in the footwell. Insantly, his claws started to shread the seats. He stopped, then looked at Sam before casting his eyes down. "I'm sorry."

"It's alright," Sam said. "I was thinking of getting new seats anyway."

Kale smiled a bit, then settled in the center of the seat so he could watch out the front window.

Michael settled in to the front seat, leaning back and taking a deep breath as he relaxed for the drive.

It wasn't that long until they got to the motel. However, before he pulled into the parking lot, he turned around. "You hungry, Kale?"

"Uh huh. I'm starving." There was a low growl in his voice.

Sam looked at Michael. "You take him inside, and I'll go get us something to eat at the diner."

"Burgers!" Kale said brightly.

"Extra pickles," Michael said with a grin, before hopping out of the car and opening the back for Kale.

"I don't know where you get your food habits," Sam stated, looking at his son. "At least we won't have to fight for our fries this time."

Kale gathered his things and climbed out after Michael, looking around the parking lot. "You live here?"

"Nope," Michael shook his head slightly, making his way towards the door of the motel room. "We live in New York City."

"Is that where Batman lives?" Kale followed behind. The motel manager happened to look out the window and was staring at them. Kale saw him and whimpered, getting closer to Michael.

"I'm not supposed to be in town..."

"Don't worry about it," Michael replied, leveling a look back at the manager with a bit of an eyebrow raise, before ushering Kale inside. "We're not gonna be here that long anyway."

He started dropping off some of his stuff before after closing the door behind them. "And Batman lives in Gotham, not New York. But they're supposed to be a lot alike."

The manager scowled, then went back inside.

"Spiderman then?" Kale walked into the room, then saw the TV. "Oh wow! Can we watch? I've never had a TV that I could watch before!"

"Absolutely," Michael said with a nod, tossing him the remote as he went to head into the bathroom.

Kale caught it, fighting to get a good grip on it with the claw fingers. There might be some really bad scratches in it now before he just held it flat in one hand.

"How do I use it?"

"The big red button at the top turns it on," Michael said with a nod. "And the arrows pointing up and down change the channels."

His fang bit his lower lip again as he tried to get his finger to push the button, and not the claw. It was hard.

Finally he got it on, and then started to flip through the stations. He stopped at CNN and was watching scenes from a war.

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