Can you believe they were gonna have John murdered by Dean? That Dean showed up to Sam with the excuse of a lost Dad but really he knew where he was. He knew they were looking for something that won't ever be found. I wonder how or even if he was ever gonna tell Sam. And if Sam found out I wonder how he reacted. I wonder what made Dean finally snap and kill John? Maybe he was turned into a monster? Maybe Dean just maybe had enough one day? Maybe it was an accident. On purpose? I just want more of THAT plot.
“I killed him.”
“What?”
“I had enough. I snapped. I shot him.”
“Dean.”
“Don’t look at me like that. Don’t you fucking dare.”
“I’m sorry. I know-”
“You don’t know! You don’t know shit!” Sam waits for Dean to continue, but he doesn’t.
Sam sighs and closes the car door. “How about I stay with you for a bit longer?”
“No.” Dean shakes his head, eyes looking ahead. “No. You got a life here. A future. You…you do that interview.”
“But Dean, you need-”
“I’m fine.” As fine as someone could get after this shit life.
Dean couldn’t make himself tell Sam the reason.
“Just stay close. Okay? Dinner tomorrow? You can meet Jess officially.”
John wanted to kill Sam. He was so fucking crazy, rambling about Sam being evil and needed to stop him before they took him. The night Dean broke in was the night John planned to kill Sam. So Dean couldn’t help but sneak in just to make sure his little brother was okay, and when he saw him, he couldn’t think of an excuse, but he just needed to watch him. Just for a little bit. Keep him close. Just to make sure that John was just a crazy bastard after all.
Sam wasn’t evil. Sam was Sammy.
Everything is gonna be okay now. Sam is gonna go back to his happily ever after and never think of Dean or John ever again.
“Sure, Sammy.”
They said goodbye, and Sam must have noticed something in Dean because he made him promise to come back. To talk to him. Dean lied again, to himself or Sam; he wasn’t sure, but he lied.
Then, while driving away, something in Dean just screams at him to turn around.
And for a second Dean sees anger in Sam. An anger that scared him.
Dean didn't kill john for his sake. Not entirely. No. John could have beat Dean up blue and purple and Dean wouldn't have raised a hand. He could have cut joker scars on his mouth and Dean would have found a way to believe he deserved it. He was used to being left behind. Used to being alone since Sammy left. He was used to the abuse, it was their normal.
So none of that made him snap.
This was about the first person Dean has saved.
Sam.
"I know this sounds insane-"
"Insane! This is past insane! You are talking about ki-you're talking about hurting sam. Your son!"
"That's the thing, Dean. He won't be my son soon. He won't be your brother. He won't be sammy."
Dean stares at him, wondering if he hit his head on the last hunt he was on. How can he be saying this shit to him? After all the years of "protect sammy, boy. That's your job! Look after sammy." And now, this.
"Dad, I think you gotta lie down. Maybe we can go to Uncle Bobby's or-"
"Dean!" John grabbed him by the shoulders, his fingers digging into him. "I know this is hard for you to understand-"
"Hard for me--this is Sam we're talking about! I know you're mad at him about before but I thought you were okay with it now. You said you watched...wait. You were watching him for this?"
John didn't say anything.
"But it's been months." So no sudden hit in the head brought this on. "How long?"
How long did he look at Sam like he was the enemy? How long did he treat him like a threat? Was Dean not watching close enough? He always thought Sam was the favorite but now he is worried of all the things he didn't see.
John pulled away. "Too long. I known since he was a kid. Sometimes...something was off about him."
"Then why didn't you do anything about it before?"
"I tried." Dean tried not to flinch at that. Remembering all those times Dad used to kick Dean out or take Sam alone somewhere. "I couldn't do it then. I kept hoping I was wrong but now...Now I know I'm not." John looks back at Dean, determined. "We have to do it, son. Sam...he'll be unstoppable of we don't do it now."
Dean watched his father, reading his expression for a second too long before he let out a breath.
"Okay."
"Okay?" John patted his shoulders, a proud grin growing on his face. Dean nods once. "Good. Good, I knew you'll do the right thing."
And Dean did.
He pulled the trigger, aiming for John's head. Taking him down as he walked away.
This is getting long but here have more of this au under the cut <3
The fire was growing. Dean saw it from the outside and yet he felt like he was burning right along side everything inside.
The smoke looked like it could choke him, fill his lungs as it burned down his throat but he felt nothing. Nothing but the cold.
All he could do is stand and watch his home burn from the front yard. Watch the flames start from the nursery window and slowly blanket the home with a raging blaze of orange and red that covered the moon with black smoke.
Black smoke that will continue to haunt him throughout his life. He just didn't know it yet.
Right now, black smoke just meant fire.
And for him, fire meant loss. A lost home. A lost childhood. A lost mother. A lost father.
Even a part of him was lost in those flames. Left behind because Dean knew he couldn't be that anymore. He had to grow. He had to make hard decisions. He was now in charge of a life that is not his own.
Lost was the ability to see himself as a person. He was nothing else but Sam's guardian. His keeper.
And yet, Dean was empty handed as he looked up at the home.
He didn't have a crying baby in his arms this time. No, instead of the round face pink cheeked little brother, Dean carried a gun.
He suddenly felt a chill and turned around, aiming his gun, ready to shoot, and then his body went cold.
"Sammy?"
Sam stood before him, nose bleeding and the angry eyes that brought fear into Dean's soul.
"You should have let Dad stop me, Dean. Cause now..." Sam smiled, it was terrifying. "Now nobody can. Not even you."
Dean could feel himself about to pull the trigger. He tried to stop himself because he can't--he won't--hurt Sam.
"Do it!" Sam yelled. "Dean! Dean!"
"No!" Dean woke up, sweat soaked on the motel bed. His breathing was heavy as he sat right up to look around, until his eyes finally land on the familiar face on the other bed.
Sam was drooling again, lack of sleep finally catching up to him and knocking him out apparently because he was still in his jeans and dumb purple tshirt. He looked like his stupid snot faced little brother.
Nothing else.
Nothing evil.
Dean has seen evil and it wasn't in Sam.
He looked at the glowing clock on the nightstand to find it was five in the morning. Sun wasn't even out yet.
Perfect time to get a coffee.
While Dean opened the door to leave, a flash of his dream appeared in his head.
Sam. Bloody nose. Black eyes.
Dean's only fear was not being able to protect Sam from that.
Dean took John's hidden journal and headed to the Impala. Spending the rest of the morning trying to figure out what all the symbols and scribbles meant. Wondering if his Dad really did die in the fire that day. And all Dean and Sam had left was this crazy shell of a man that screamed at them about yellow eyes, demons, and angels.
He sent more pictures out to Bobby and sent him a text that they should be there by this afternoon.
Course the old man texted back right away, never sleeping.
Later that morning he walks in to find Sam at the computer, "hey! Think I found us a case."
"Morning to you too."
"I woke up...well I had a dream I guess, about our old house. I mean I dont remember it at all but it felt like our house but a woman was there."
"Mom?"
"No. No. Not mom just a random woman. I think...she needs our help. I know I sound crazy but the dream felt so real."
Dean didn't mention his dream of their house. Dean didn't mention anything at all. Instead he said, "okay. A little detour down memory lane. Yay."
He promised himself he would never go back to the place he lost it all but all things are pointing there. Pointing back home.
