Dean's stomach turned as they entered the house. While Clark helped Mrs. Kent work on breakfast, Mr. Kent brought the other three boys into the living room. They sat on the couch while Mr. Kent stood before them.
Dean was the first to speak, "Sir, I take full responsibility—"
"Do you boys have any idea how worried we were?"
Dean hung his head. "About Clark."
"About all of you, Dean." Mr. Kent looked right at Sam. "Sam, you lied to us."
"Dean told me to," Sam muttered.
"You know lying is wrong."
"Yes, but—"
"You're thirteen. You're old enough to know not to go along with everything your brother says."
"Yes, sir." Sam hung his head.
"Come here."
Sam's face filled with fear, and he glanced over at Dean, who didn't know what to make of any of this. Sam stood on shaky legs and went over to Mr. Kent.
Mr. Kent put his hands on Sam's shoulders. "Are you okay, son?"
Sam's eyes shone. "I was really scared."
"I know you were." He pulled the trembling boy into his arms.
Dean felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. He hadn't seen his own father do that for Sam in a long time, and only now did he realize how much Sam had needed it. He looked down at his hands while Mr. Kent sent Sam into the kitchen to help set the table for breakfast, then Mr. Kent knelt down to the coffee table to take out a first aid kit out of a drawer.
"Nice to see you two getting along, by the way," Mr. Kent said as he sat down beside Lex.
Dean breathed in to deny it, but his voice caught. He couldn't. He didn't even really want to.
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Mr. Kent began working on disinfecting and bandaging the cut on Lex's arm. It was quiet other than a couple of soft hisses from Lex, then Mr. Kent moved to the other side of the couch and set to work on Dean's leg. Dean clenched his teeth, determined to be even more silent than Lex had been.
"I know what you boys were trying to do last night," Mr. Kent said. "It was very brave. It also wasn't your job."
Neither of them said anything.
"You're not used to being able to ask a parent for help, are you?"
"No, sir," they said in unison.
"New house rule. If you find yourself in real trouble—someone gets lost or hurt—you tell us."
"You'll give us immunity?" Lex asked.
"You won't be in trouble if you're honest," Mr. Kent confirmed, then he stood. "Okay. Let's go eat."
"Um, about our . . . punishment . . ." Dean's voice trailed off.
"What do you mean?"
"You didn't tell us what it was."
"You don't think you've been through enough?"
Dean's jaw dropped. "What, you'd yell at us for fighting, and ground us the next day, but if we run off late at night, and tell Sam to lie to you, and lose your son, you let us off with a tap on the back of the head?"
"You also found our son. Don't get me wrong, boys, I'm not letting you out of my sight for a little while, but I don't need to yell at you. I suspect your conscience is doing that for me."
"Well, yeah, but—"
"You were trying to do the right thing. It was wrong, but I think you learned your lesson when you got hurt. Martha and I don't feel the need to add to the natural consequences. We know how sorry you are."
Dean felt awful, but he didn't want to say that in front of Lex, even though he was sure Lex felt the same way.
"You're forgiven. Both of you." Mr. Kent placed a gentle hand on Dean's shoulder. "If you want to talk more after breakfast, we can, but I'm not going to scold you. Not this time. Of course, if it ever happens again—"
"It won't!" Dean blurted out, while Lex said, "Never!"
Mr. Kent nodded. "Are you hungry?"
"Uh, yeah. Starved," Dean said.
"Let's go eat."
That kind of mercy was foreign to Dean, and it was uncomfortable, but he kept his mouth shut and took it. All three of them went to the breakfast table to meet the others, who were already dishing up, and Dean had to swallow against the tightness in his throat.
They spent the late morning resting in their rooms and the afternoon doing a few easy chores and playing games. Dean had been planning on picking up where he left off the day before, yelling at Sam for taking Clark on a recon mission, but after what Mr. Kent had said, he didn't have the heart. More than that, he didn't feel like he had the right.
Mrs. Kent outdid herself at dinnertime, frying up two chickens and making two whole pies. To Dean's astonishment, Clark was the one who ate the most. They all settled down for a movie after dinner. Clark fell asleep with his head on Lex's shoulder, and Sam fell asleep curled up against Dean on the couch, and Dean and Lex exchanged a look that might have been seen as a smile.
That night, Dean slept better on the floor of the Kents' guest room than he had ever slept in a bed in a motel or cabin. He found himself wishing he could stay here for the whole summer, or even longer.