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“Oh, thank God. John Gabriel, I thought – you're okay. Thank God.”
“Dean, I told you there was no cause for concern.”
“Sorry, Dad. Sorry, Papa.”
“Thank you both for coming in on such short notice. I hope that you weren't in the middle of anything important.”
“Nothing that won't keep. We, ah, flew right over as soon as we got the call. It sounded real urgent.”
“Ms Pendergast – the secretary didn't really explain what happened?”
“Yeah – why is John in trouble? 'Cause I'm telling you now, he didn't do it. He's a good kid.”
“They are all 'good kids' to their parents, Mr Winchester.”
“Yeah, but – I mean, he's seriously good. Like – white-hat-wearing, save-the-day, hardcore GOOD. He's an angel. Seriously. He really is an angel.”
“He's a troublemaker.”
“Bullshit. Ow! Did you just kick me?”
“No. What Dean is trying to say, Ms Pendergast, is that we find it very difficult to believe that John Gabriel would intentionally cause trouble, or indeed draw attention upon himself. Perhaps you could explain what has occurred, to help us understand?”
“Oh, I'll explain, all right! Where to begin?”
“I believe the beginning is traditional, Madam.”
“John Gabriel is – he is a charming little boy.”
“Damn straight!”
“Dean.”
“Well, he is!”
“Dean. Sorry, Ms Pendergast. Please continue.”
“Thank you. As I was saying – John Gabriel is in many ways a delightful child. And for the most part I believe that he is not malicious. Or I had believed that until today.”
“But, Miss, I told you, I had to...”
“John Gabriel, you will not speak until spoken to! I am explaining this!”
“Yes, miss. Sorry, miss.”
“Ever since he joined us, John Gabriel has been a magnet for trouble. Any time there is a disturbance, any time there is chaos, John Gabriel is always right in the middle of it.”
“...yeah, okay. Maybe. He gets that from me.”
“In fairness, Dean, you have led a fairly sedate existence since our marriage. I do no think you can be accused of setting any kind of bad example. Perhaps I have been a little too open in my recounts of my – ah – my business ventures. Um.”
“...what exactly is it that you do, Mr...?”
“Castiel. I am – I am in security. Of a sort. An, ah, an independent contractor, you might say.”
“Really. Well, regardless of whose example John may think he is following, the fact remains that he is a troublemaker.”
“Aw, c'mon, lady. Isn't that kind of harsh?”
“Let me see. Two weeks ago he reduced half his class to tears when he told them that there is no such person as Santa.”
“Well, it's true!”
“But he assured them that there is, in fact, an 'evil Santa'. Who might drag them up the chimney and make them into blood sacrifices.”
“Hahaha. That little scamp! What a great imagination! Haha! Kids, eh? Where do they come up with all this stuff?”
“Uncle Sammy told me about the time when...”
“Sssh. Come on, now, I'm sure that's not the first time you've had a kid tell his class there's no such person as Santa?”
“If it were only that, Mr Winchester, we would not be having this meeting. Let's see – well, there was the time he broke another child's nose, fighting. That was last week. It was the poor child's first day here, and John Gabriel broke his nose. His father was furious, as you can imagine.”
“John Gabriel!”
“He was hurting Nop and LaShonda! He was a big boy! BIG!”
“Was this an older kid, Ms Pendergast?”
“As it happens, yes, a little older – but nobody saw him lay a hand on Nop or LaShonda.”
“Yes they did, they're just scared!”
“How much older, Ms Pendergast?”
“Well – well, yes, very well, he's ten, but that isn't the point.”
“Ten? Way to go, champ! And you kicked his ass for him!”
“Yeah. He's sorry now. He knows better.”
“That's my boy!”
“Mr Winchester! I did not expect you to reward this kind of behaviour! We have a very strict no fighting policy! John Gabriel has been missing recess ever since.”
“Ms Pendergast, we do appreciate the seriousness of this incident. John Gabriel knows that he should not fight with other children, and that we are disappointed he has resorted to violence, rather than trying to reason with opponents.”
“Papa, I did try to reason with him! But then he kicked Nop in his you-know and made him cry! So I smited him.”
“Smote, John. The past tense is smote.”
“Sorry, Papa. I smote him.”
“There will be no, no smiting in the yard! It is not acceptable!”
“We understand that, Ms Pendergast. And so does John Gabriel, I am sure.”
“Sorry, Miss.”
“Yes, well, that isn't all. What about the fish sticks?”
“Fish sticks?”
“I don't know how he did it, but I know it was him!”
“Sorry, Ms Pendergast – what happened with the fish sticks?”
“The miracle of the fish sticks, they're calling it!”
“John Gabriel?”
“I was nowhere near the kitchen!”
“John Gabriel?”
“I have alibis!”
“What happened with the fish sticks?”
“On Fridays we always have fish sticks.”
“They're icky! They're all wet and icky!”
“John Gabriel does not like fish sticks, as you will gather. And last Friday he informed us all that he wanted pepperoni pizza instead.”
“What, there's suddenly a rule against liking pizza? 'Cause if liking pizza's wrong, I don't wanna be right!”
“If it were simply a case of liking pizza, we would not be having this conversation, Mr Winchester. No, the problem is that all the fish sticks mysteriously vanished. And then twenty pizza delivery guys all showed up with prepaid pepperoni pizzas. And so we had pizza instead.”
“...”
“I have LOTS of alibis.”
“I don't know where the fishsticks went, but I will find out.”
“So he's in trouble because he stood up for his friends against a bully, and because somebody bought all the kids free pizza? Seriously? Because, I gotta tell you, we were busy with – with Castiel's security work, when we got your phone call. We figured something serious must've gone down.”
“Oh, I'm just getting to the good part, Mr Winchester.”
“...oh?”
“Yes. Are you aware that we had, until this afternoon, a truly excellent custodian by the name of Mr Eliot?”
“Er. No?”
“Is this entirely relevant, Ms Pendergast?”
“Oh, yes, it's relevant, Mr Castiel. You see, this afternoon Mr Eliot went into John Gabriel's room to fix the air conditioning unit, and John Gabriel started to curse, and announced that Mr Eliot was possessed by a demon.”
“What? Possessed by a...?”
“I didn't curse. I said 'Christo'. I already knew, but I was checking.”
“Oh, yes, you may well ask! 'Possessed by a demon', he said, and then he threw a bag of salt at the poor old man as he was balancing on a step ladder. Hit him in the face!”
“Threw a...”
“Bag of salt. Yes. Nobody seems quite clear on where the salt came from, but Poor Mr Eliot was in agony! His eyes were so bloodshot that the very irises looked red!”
“...did they?”
“And then John Gabriel started shouting nonsense words at him, hysterically!”
“...”
“I was exorcising him. 'Cause he was bad.”
“You see? How am I supposed to deal with this kind of nonsense? I don't know what you've been letting him watch on television, Mr Winchester, but it is clearly TOTALLY unsuitable. Demons!”
“...”
“Everyone was very distressed. And then, as if this wasn't bad enough, John Gabriel started a fire!”
“...started a fire? In a classroom full of kids? John Gabriel?”
“I didn't! I told you, miss, it was the demon! That's how they look, when you smite 'em!”
“Everyone agrees that they saw a billowing column of black smoke; luckily one of the classroom assistants had the presence of mind to hit the fire alarm, and we swiftly evacuated the building, but it could have been a disaster!”
“Of course you did. I'm guessing that the fire mysteriously put itself out, and you can't even find any scorch marks. Right? And that Mr Eliot can't remember any of this?”
“Well, yes, but how did you...?”
“Call it a hunch.”
“The fact remains that John Gabriel is a menace, and trouble follows him everywhere.”
“Now, look, just because you idiots don't know a de- ow!”
“...”
“So help me, if you kick me again, Cas, I'm going to hide all your Carpenters CDs.”
“I will find them.”
“Not if I hide them with a hex bag.”
“I will create new ones.”
“I'll hide those too.”
“Then I will create new new ones!”
“Then you'll find yourself sleeping on the couch.”
“I have no need of sleep.”
“Cas, so help me...”
“You know, I think that this is what Ruby meant when she said you are cute when you're angry.”
“...I can cut you.”
“No you can't.”
“TIME OUT!”
“...um. Sorry?”
“I apologise, Ms Pendergast.”
“You are not taking this seriously!”
“I assure you that we do understand the importance of John Gabriel learning to fit in with his peer group.”
“Exactly! Especially a boy in his – special – circumstances! The last thing he should be doing is drawing attention to himself!”
“In his ...what do you know about his special circumstances?
“Well, it's hardly a secret, is it? You two are going around flaunting your relationship in public, and letting this poor child watch heaven knows what rubbish on television – is there any wonder that he's acting out? He must be so confused!”
“...”
“Cas, chill.”
“Ms Pendergast, I'm not sure I understand what you are implying.”
“I am not prejudiced, Mr Castiel. What two consenting people choose to do in the privacy of their bedroom is their business, but when you choose to take on the responsibility of adopting a...”
“John Gabriel is not adopted.”
“Well, obviously...”
“John Gabriel is our son.”
“Well, yes, yes, in the eyes of the law, clearly – but in the eyes of God...”
“I think that is a subject upon which both Dean and I are much better qualified to comment than you, Madam, and I can assure you that in the eyes of God, John Gabriel is our son, and nobody else's.”
“You see! This is the kind of talk that is confusing the poor boy! Why, only last week he told his teacher that his uncle was the anti-Christ! And that he wasn't born like other children – Winnie's mother is eight months pregnant, and when he saw her come to pick Winnie up he said he knew all about where babies come from, and that you gave birth to him, Mr Winchester, of all the idiotic ideas! I mean, fine, in this day and age there is nothing to stop you people from adopting innocent children, but can't you see how you are warping his poor young mind?”
“Seriously, Cas, cool it. It's okay.”
“It is not okay.”
“Look, you may not be happy to have this discussed in his presence, but sooner or later he's going to realise that he must have had a mother, and he's going to want to know about his real family!”
“He already knows all about his real family. We are his real family.”
“I do not believe that you two are taking your parenting seriously at all! Letting him believe in evil Santas and, and demons, and rewarding him for beating up children in the yard! Warping his delicate sensibilities by flaunting your relationship in front of him! It's shameful!”
“YOU SHOULD SHOW OUR SON SOME RESPECT, WOMAN! HE IS THE MESSIAH, WHOSE COMING WAS FORETOLD BY THE PROPHET CHUCK, AND HE IS YOUR SAVIOUR, NOT "A TROUBLEMAKER"! I WILL TAKE NO MORE OF YOUR COMPLAINING, NOR WILL I TOLERATE THESE INSULTS TO DEAN WINCHESTER! SHAME ON YOU!”
“...”
“...”
“Papa, I think she fainted!”
“He's right, Cas.”
“...I thought you said we weren't supposed to play with our wings in public?”
“I do not like this woman.”
“Cas, she's the principal. You can't smite the principal. Even if she's being a dick. I don't wanna move to a new town! Unless – do you wanna move, champ? I thought you liked it here.”
“I do! I like it here a lot!”
“Okay then. And – holy crap, a demon? Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
“And you took him out on your own? C'mere!”
“Mmmff!”
“That's my boy!”
“Sorry it wasn't very disc...dis... very secret.”
“Are you kidding? You rock!”
“We are both very proud of your courage and your presence of mind in the face of danger, John Gabriel. However, the miracle of the fishsticks was most unwise. We do not wish to draw attention upon ourselves.”
“What – by getting all Angel of the Lord on some poor dumb woman and flashing great and terrible wings at her, you mean? That kind of thing?”
“She deserved it.”
“Well, yeah. True. But, Cas – you gotta fix it. You can do that, right?”
“I think that, just this once, I can fix it.”
“Memory wipe?”
“It would be awkward if everyone remembered the details of the exorcism, so we shall make that a little vague for them. And Ms Pendergast will remember a very satisfying meeting with us. And will start to think very seriously about retiring.”
“I love it when you get all badass.”
“...”
“...”
“See, this is what she was talking about. You're flaunting your relationship in front of me.”
“Shame on me, going around being all loved up and happy, just because I've got the best kid ever, and my very own angel of the Lord. Whatever was I thinking?”
“Ew! Kissing is icky!”
“As icky as fishsticks?”
“Nothing is as icky as fishsticks. Can we have pizza?”
“Have you been good?”
“I smited a demon, Dad! On my own!”
“Smote, John. 'Now I smite, then I smote.'”
“I smote a demon.”
“Smote, smited, smitten – who died and made you the grammar technician, Cas?”
“Yesterday I was smitten. Today I am smitten. Tomorrow I will still be smitten.”
“...”
“...”
“I think you're warping my delicate sens'bilities. I need pizza to recover. Lots of pizza. And maybe ice-cream.”
“Fine! Okay, great and terrible slayer of demons, you can have ice-cream.”
“And can we fly home?”
“Well, the Chevy's back at the cemetery – we were in kind of a hurry when we got the call. So, sure, what the hell. Let's fly the friendly skies.”
“Yay!”