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Jack didn't quite understand what Eliot had meant when he invited him to hang out at his house, but whatever his somewhat lacking in experience mind imagined... well, it was nowhere near that thing that was actually going on.
He thought they would play video games like they usually did or perhaps watch that TV show that Max was ranting about all the time, but when he asked, Eliot only laughed good-naturedly and said, "Even better." He had a glint in his eye that caused an unpleasant feeling to rise at the pit of Jack's stomach that didn't really go away and as he was knocking on the door to Eliot's house, he felt as though he had eaten some heavy rocks.
But, well, Eliot was his friend, wasn't he? It's not like he would do anything that could result in Jack getting in trouble or some kind of danger. It was perfectly normal and expected even to go over one's friend's place. And Jack couldn't really invite anyone to the bunker, so it would have to do. Besides, he knew only a handful of people, and he was starting to realize that it wasn't like this for most humans. So, socializing it was.
Except Eliot's idea of even better apparently involved smoking some sort of cigarettes.
Jack had never smoked before. In fact, he only ever drank beer, under the watchful eye of Dean before he started hating his guts, and it was just one time because he found out he wasn't overly fond of the taste. So when Eliot asked if he wanted a smoke, at first he refused.
"Aw, come on, man," pouted Stacy half laying on the couch, with her head upside down. "Don’t spoil the fun!"
Jack didn't want to disappoint anyone, so he reluctantly agreed and accepted the joint.
It was weird, he decided eventually, as funny smoke filled his lungs and he choked, much to the amusement of his friends.
"It's alright!" assured Max, when he drew back the cigarette, a faint blush covering his face. "It's always like this at first. You just need some getting used to."
And so they shared the joint, and Jack found that the more he smoked, the easier it was to manage, although he still couldn't find the appeal. He still didn't know why Max and Stacy and Eliot thought it was fun, and he didn’t dare ask. He suspected it was another thing he would just get had he been a human and asking would only cause weird stares to be pointed his way.
Eventually they settled into this almost peaceful manner. Eliot lay on the floor with his eyes closed as he hummed some pop song that was on the radio all the time recently, while the girls chatted in a low voice, but soon they seemed to get bored with conversation and started sharing lazy kisses on their loveseat.
Jack sat on the couch fiddling with his hands in his lap rather nervously and tried to not let his eyes wander, but he couldn't help the stinging in his cheeks as he watched Stacy climb Max's lap as she continued to kiss the daylight off of her girlfriend's lips. It wasn't like them to exchange affections so easily. Jack had only seen them hold hands or share a quick peck on the cheek but not much more, even though they were hanging out for quite a while now. Although he physically didn't feel anything out of the ordinary, he realized that all that smoking must have had some sort of effect on the rest, similar to when people got themselves intoxicated with alcohol.
As he sat there, alone with his thoughts, he felt even more out of place than usual. It was situations like this that never failed to remind him that he was an odd man out, a misfit and an intruder who didn't really belong anywhere. He just wanted to go back home. At least there he didn't have to pretend to get it. But he also didn't want to have to explain himself, so he stayed.
It seemed luck was on his side, though, because as soon as he resigned himself to this uncomfortable boredom, his phone rang loudly, bringing an end to the silence that had overcome the room. He picked up the phone clumsily and looked at the screen. It was Sam.
"Hello," he said, and he had to fight back a smile as relief threatened to overwhelm him and his whole body sagged into the couch.
"Hey, buddy," said Sam warmly, his voice slightly distorted through the phone. "Are you having fun with your friends?"
This time Jack did smile and when he confirmed, it didn’t even feel like a lie.
"Well then, that's good, but I just wanted to let you know that I have a lead on a case, and it looks like it's zombies for real this time. So I think we could go check it out when you get home?"
"Yes! I’ll be there soon!" He heard Sam chuckle at the excitement in his voice and he hung up, ready to bolt from the couch, when he realized his friends looked at him curiously.
"What's up?" asked Stacy, her lips plump and very red.
"I have to get home," Jack explained, getting up and heading towards the door.
"Whoa, wait a sec, this soon?" Eliot stood up and blocked his way. "Who called you?"
Jack faltered in his steps as he realized he'd never explained his living conditions or the whereabouts of his family to his friends. Up until this point he was always glad they never asked, because, really, what was he supposed to say? Oh, my dad's the devil and we're no contact and my human mom is dead, but before she died she made an angel promise he would take care of me and so now I live in a bunker with his two friends who hunt supernatural creatures and are considered outlaws, but overall they're good people . Yeah, that was bound to end well.
"My dad," he blurted suddenly, before he got a chance to think it through and immediately felt stupid, because, well, Sam wasn’t his dad.
He hoped his face wasn’t giving away the lie. He was glad Sam wasn’t there to hear it, because, while admittedly it was an easy excuse, Jack got a feeling the man wouldn't be happy about his choice of words.
And that's how it started.
***
It wasn’t how it started.
Jack thought about it for a long time, and he came to the conclusion that it wasn’t his fault. It wouldn’t have happened, had it not been for the old Mrs Jonas who thought she needed only the hearing aids, but she obviously required glasses as well.
The lady owned a flower shop just down the other street, but Jack came across her most often in the grocery store, and it was in the very same setting when the incident happened.
Jack was walking around the store, looking for something he might like, when he stumbled upon Mrs Jonas in the dairy aisle. She didn't see him at first, so Jack thought about sneaking behind her back unnoticed, because she had this weird habit of gushing over him every single time she saw him, and, frankly, it was creeping Jack out. Unfortunately, she chose that exact moment to turn around. Her eyes widened at the sight of him and a crooked smile blossomed on her wrinkled face.
"Jack, darling!" she exclaimed, raising her arms as if she wanted to embrace him, but she didn't follow through. "You're just exactly what I needed. Come help a lady and pick up that yogurt from the high shelf, would you?"
Jack complied, mostly because he had no reason not to and refusing to help her would be pointlessly rude. Mrs Jonas in turn declared him the kindest and strongest boy she'd ever seen, and Jack was very glad they were the only people in the alley.
It was then that Sam came around the corner, pushing a half full trolley in front of him.
"Hey, Jack, you got everything you need?" he asked, but before Jack could answer, Mrs Jonas interrupted with glee.
"My, my, you must be the young lad's father!" If possible, the smile on her face only grew. "Let me tell you, sir, what a lovely boy you have!"
Sam opened his mouth abruptly and closed it again, tilting his head. Jack averted his eyes and looked at the products on the shelves, trying to see how far he could read the labels.
What a stupid thing to say! Everyone and their mother could very well see that he and Sam weren't related, much less that Sam was his father! Maybe Mrs Jonas was so old that her brain wasn’t functioning properly anymore. Jack heard that it was very common amongst old people.
"W-well, tha-ank you, ma'am," stuttered Sam, making it sound almost like a question.
As they were walking out of the store, Jack was about to ask Sam why he didn't tell Mrs Jonas she was wrong, but he noticed that Sam had a frown upon his face and kept looking behind his back rather accusingly, as if he didn't quite understand it himself, so Jack shut up.
It probably wasn’t that big of a deal anyway, and he absolutely never thought about it again.
But, yeah, he blamed Mrs Jonas for everything.
***
He wasn't going to let it become a thing.
But as he walked into a motel to get a room for himself and Sam, and the receptionist asked whether he was alone, it kind of rolled off his tongue.
"N-no, no!" He looked over his shoulder, where Sam, still outside, was picking their bags from the trunk. "I'm with my dad."
It still didn't mean it was a thing.
***
Castiel said Jack ought to learn what it was like to be a real human. He called it 'gaining real life experience' and insisted it was crucial for his development. Jack was really excited at the beginning, but lost all of his enthusiasm when it turned out Cas mostly meant learning useless and boring stuff. When Jack expressed his disappointment, Cas claimed that it was basic knowledge and that most people knew it all before they became adults, and when Jack reminded him that he was only two, he pretended he didn't hear him.
Fortunately, Cas included acquiring practical skills in his course as well, otherwise Jack might be forced to just pluck his eyes out, had he been shown another depressing video about math.
So the way things were, Jack stood alone in front of some building with a check-list in hand. He already learned how to ride a bike (he hoped he'd never have to see Cas with a bike again), he could make coffee, and he knew how to use a washing machine. The next step was to go to a doctor's appointment.
He could pick a doctor of his own choosing, and he was surprised when he learned just how many different kinds there were, but he eventually settled for a dentist because he quite liked his teeth and would very much like it if they didn’t fall out.
Since it was his first visit there, he was required to fill out some papers. It was then that he realized what exactly this exercise was meant to test – his ability to lie.
Well, if that was the case, Jack mused, Cas should've gotten an appointment himself. After all, he was so exceptionally awful at lying, it made even Jack cringe.
Jack wrote down his name (he said the truth), his date of birth (he lied, but only about the year), his ID number (he panicked, reaching for the fake card in his pocket) and insurance number (he made it up, feeling lightheaded; he didn't even know how many numbers it was supposed to have). Then the form asked about his mother's name, which was easy, and his father's name, which made him stop.
For all the trouble Cas had put him into, he should write his name along with his phone number, so someone would come calling and give him a piece of their mind, but it seemed so complicated. Cas didn't even have a surname.
Putting down Sam Winchester was easy at this point.
***
He realized he might have an issue when he noticed he started mentioning Sam as his dad without prompting.
Once, Dean sent him to fetch coffee while he and Sam waited in the car, and as Jack was placing the order, he said, "One hot chocolate, a double espresso and a flat white for my dad."
When he met Marcie, Eliot's cousin, and she told him she lived with just her dad since her mom had left, he couldn't help himself and murmured, "I live with my dad, too, but my mom died."
It was getting ridiculous. He didn't know where it was coming from. It wasn't like he wanted Sam to be his dad.
***
Sam, Jack decided, would never want to be his dad.
After all, Jack only lived in the bunker because he had nowhere else to go, and he was too dangerous for his own good. Sam and Dean were too responsible to just let him go, but Jack was no fool; had he been a regular human, they wouldn't think twice about him. Sure, Cas might have made a promise to his mother, but Cas was an adult and Sam and Dean didn't have to deal with his messes.
And then there was the matter of his real father, Lucifer, who also happened to be the father of all evil. No one had ever told him the details, but Jack knew that Lucifer tried to cause an apocalypse, but Sam and Dean stopped him, and Sam paid for it with his own life. Jack was smart enough to realize that if there ever was a human who earned the title of Lucifer's No.1 Hater, it was Sam. Sam was the last person to have any love whatsoever for Lucifer's child.
Besides, if Sam wanted to have kids, he would have found himself a wife, and he would start a family with her.
Sam simply didn't want any kids, much less Jack. And Jack understood, really.
It didn’t explain, though, why the very thought stung.
***
It was a wonder that Sam hadn’t noticed.
Jack called Sam his dad out loud so often that it was bound to reach back to him any time now. Of course, Sam was never there when Jack did it, and he also made sure that neither Dean nor Cas were in the hearing range when it happened, but the more he said the words 'my dad', the more his stomach churned at the possibility that this time, Sam might know.
The situation, bad as it was, certainly wasn't improved by the fact that Jack kept calling Sam 'dad' in his thoughts almost all the time.
What was even worse, if possible, was that Jack wasn't so sure anymore whether he wanted Sam to find out or not.
***
Sam was always kind to him, always listened to what he had to say, always knew what to say to make him feel better and never judged him for anything, no matter how bizarre it was. Sam always made sure that Jack was included but never pressured, was there when he needed him to be, but left him alone when Jack required solitude. In short, Sam had, as Jack imagined since it wasn't like he had any real way of knowing, any and all qualities to be a good father.
And maybe, just maybe, Jack wanted Sam to see him as his son.
***
It was terrible. Jack hated being human. He was so clumsy, it was like he didn't know how to use his body. And he got hurt.
"This might sting," said Sam, holding some gauze in front of his knee, where his skin was torn and blood was dripping lightly.
It stung alright, but Jack only clenched his teeth harder, refusing to flinch. He was sitting on a stool in the kitchen with Sam in front of him as he tended to his wound after Jack tripped and fell on bare concrete. He still felt humiliated, but at least Sam didn’t make fun of him.
"There you go, buddy." Sam patted lightly against the bandage on his knee and smiled up warmly at him.
"Thanks, dad," said Jack softly and froze.
No. No, no, no. It didn’t just happen. He absolutely did not just say that. Maybe Sam didn’t hear him. Maybe Sam…
But Sam stilled and his smile fell.
"What… what did you just say?" he asked quietly, with bewilderment.
"I said, thanks, Sam ," insisted Jack and pressed his eyes shut tightly, unable to watch a frown form on Sam's face, very similar to when old Mrs Jonas called Sam his father.
His hands started sweating, and his heart was pounding erratically in his chest. What now? What was Sam going to do? Was he going to be mad? Would he… throw him out? Jack swallowed heavily at the thought, feeling the panic sweep through him.
"No… No, you said…" Please, don’t say it, please, don’t say it. "You called me dad."
The way he said it was final. There would be no persuading him.
"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to…" Jack stumbled on his words, but he had to do everything to convince Sam it wouldn’t happen again. "It was an accident, I swear!"
"I didn't know you could call people dad by accident," said Sam, his tone unreadable, and Jack rubbed his hand against his still closed eyed, feeling the wetness underneath the eyelids.
He said nothing and Sam didn’t add anything either, and soon enough the tears he was so effortfully holding in fell down his cheeks.
"I'm sorry," he choked, not bothering to cover his sniffles anymore. The cat was out of the bag anyway. There was nothing he could do, except maybe rouse pity and beg for mercy.
"Hey, hey!" Jack felt strong hands on the sides of his face, but he didn't dare open his eyes. "No, buddy, it's alright… Hey, look at me. C'mon."
Sam's hands and voice were gentle, but Jack still couldn't bring himself to comply. He didn't think he could bear to see the rejection in Sam’s eyes, but when his sobs didn't falter, Sam didn’t force his eyes open. Instead, he pulled Jack closer to himself and held him tightly while rubbing soothing circles on his back. Jack's head fell against his shoulder.
"Shh… It’s alright, now, I've got you," murmured Sam and pressed a kiss on the crown of his head. "I'm not angry with you, I promise."
Jack's only response was to cry harder. He clung onto Sam, clutching his shirt with his hands and refusing to let go.
"No, I’m not mad," repeated Sam with more conviction. "I don’t mind it if you want to call me dad," he hesitated, "In fact, I would be honored."
This caused Jack's breath to catch in his throat. He pulled his head back and blinked at Sam.
"Really?" he asked in a small voice.
"Yeah, really," confirmed Sam and smiled a little.
"But why?"
"Because I care for you," he said, wiping Jack's face with a handkerchief he pulled out of somewhere. "And I love you. And I already think of you like you are my son."
Jack blinked. And blinked again.
"Yes? But… I thought…"
"I've never thought it would happen either… and yet it did. So does it really matter? Unless you’re not fine with it…?"
"I am!"
This time Sam smiled for real; it was a big, broad smile that Jack rarely ever saw on his face.
"That's good. Now, you must be tired." Sam chuckled when he yawned. "C'mon, let's get you to bed."
"Sam?" Jack asked later, when he was under the duvet and Sam was standing in the doorway.
"Yeah?", he replied, turning around to face him.
"I love you, too…"
So what if Jack wanted Sam to be his dad? Sam seemed to want it just as much, after all.