John Winchester (![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} _dadsjournal) wrote, |
Dean starts talking again - “Okay. You're back. You got the food, then? Great” - and tries to move past to Sam's side of the room (and that's the terms the engagement is being discussed in now, make no mistake; lines being drawn, territory decided, both sides bracing themselves for a protracted campaign of attrition. It's a battle, because it never ends up as anything else) but John's there first, blocking his path and stopping him in his tracks with a glare, turning slowly to face Sam, and Dean trails off with something about him getting back sooner than expected, which is good, right? which dissolves into a low mumble as he buries his hands hopelessly in his pockets, dropping his gaze to the one remaining neutral zone (the floor) and bracing for impact.
John doesn't start by shouting, though. He's from the old school, after all, the one where you didn't need to yell to make your kids respect you, where just the correct application of The Tone was enough. “Sam” he says, measured and weary and disappointed, fixing him with the same Look he used to give him when he wasn't quick enough around an obstacle course or precise enough with a ward, the look that says he's wise to the boy's game and knows full well he's just being awkward to make things more difficult for his father despite said father not needing anything else on his plate right now. “Did I or did I not tell you to Stay. In. The. Motel?”