Come Back

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*Trigger Warnings: some parental abuse, a large amount of homophobic slurs.

"You know what, son?"

Dan Wicket felt the pulling of the papers he'd been working on from beneath him and then the thud of them being dropped a top his head.

He reached up and grabbed the stack, pulling it close to his chest. The voice that roared came from that of Joe Wickett, the drunken father of the boy sitting cross legged on the wooden floor.

"I read that little story you got there, last night. You think that shits funny?" The gruff man enquired.

Silence in reply.

"Look at me, boy." Joe was leaning down, the smell of whiskey was permanently etched into his pores. It made Dan want to hide. He looked at the man.

"You think that shits funny?" This time even harsher than before.

"No, sir." the boy whispered.

A slap across the face.

"Speak up. My son does not write whatever fruity shit this is."

In a sweeping motion the man grabs the papers held close to the boys chest. He chuckles, almost evilly.

"You think you're smooth, you little fairy? You thought I wouldn't find this shit? You thought I wouldn't be able to figure out the name changes? John? Really, Dan? Or wait, should I call you Dean? How fuckin' dare you bring Samantha into this. And make her a dude? And the little Cas character you got. The Angel? That's who? That kid, the Uh...Novak! That's right. The Novak kid you've been hanging out with. I knew it was more than friends with you and him. I fucking knew it. My own son. A fruity little bitch."

Another slap. Dan felt tears form at the corner of his eyes.

"You wrote a whole little story about your undying love for him. Pathetic. And the monster shit? What the fuck is wrong with you? I didn't raise you like this."

He slurred his words as he rifled through the pages, his back turned to Dan.

"I raise two gays in one lifetime. What are the fucking probabilities."

Dan felt the anger in his throat rise to his mouth.

"Maybe you'll kill me, too" he said it under his breath. It did not escape the man. He turned around grabbing the front of the boy's shirt, pulling him up.

"She killed herself. End of story. Speak of your sister again, I will kill you."

Setting the boy down, he turned once more to the fire. The electricity had been turned off, the money to pay the bill instead being used to poison the man's veins with alcohol. All they had was a fire tonight, to keep the ramshackle house warm and lit. Joe thumbed through the pages once more, and turned to his son.

"I didn't raise no writer fag."

With that, he gently set the pages aflame in the fire that kept them warm. The boy was silent. At first, he just lit the corner, so he could still hold it up and show it to the boy, who watched it shrivel and blacken. He saw the ink begin to distort and fade. He saw the words he had poured his heart into become ash. A tear he couldn't hold back rolled down the boy's face.

The man laughed. Tossing the remains of the pages into the flame. He began stumbling his way to his room.

"Say goodbye to your little precious." He called out as he reached his bedroom door.

Dan still sat silently. More tears ran down his face. There was no need to hold them back any longer. He stared at the blue flame, unblinkingly.

"Come back."

***Notes: THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING OMFG I can't even believe you made it all the way through. You're amazing for that. This was my first go at writing fanfic (as you might've been able to tell lmao) and I'm so pleased that you were able to bare with me as I tried figuring out what the hell I was doing. Just thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

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