AN: This is my first Song-fic. And my second fan-fic ever, so please, be kind! I do enjoy criticism but I am still working out all the "in's and out's" of this fan fiction world. I'm curious to see how this turns out. Every time I hear this song, it just screams Dean angst. So with that being said…Enjoy!
Rated T for some cursing and gore.
FYI: I do not, nor have I ever, own/owned Supernatural. Characters included. I do not own the band. This is just a product of an over active imagination! Lyrics in bold and centered, dream descriptions in lowercase and centered
3 Doors Down: Father's Son
In the glare of the neon sign
She laid her body down
The damned walked in beside her
And he laid his money down
Dean awoke in a cold sweat. His heart was racing, the sheets were tangled around his legs, and all the while, Sam was sleeping like a little baby. He was sure he had screamed. Dean swung his legs off the bed, putting his hands on his knees and hanging his head downward. "Deep breath", he told himself. This was totally unusual. Sam was the "visionary" of the duo. Why was this happening to him? Why now? He took a moment to compose himself and then wrote down exactly what he saw in his dream.
"dark room, scraggly looking bed, young and scared looking girl with blood on her wrists, dark shadow standing in the corner"
He put the notepad down and shook his head in hopes of clearing his mind. It was dark outside. The clock on the nightstand showed 03:17. He had only been asleep for three hours. Strangely enough, he was awake and alert when he should have been groggy as hell. Quietly he padded to the bathroom in his bare feet. Maybe a splash of cool water would make him feel better. He stepped inside the dark bathroom before turning on the light, so as to not wake Sam. He flicked on the light. Instead of the aging glow of the fluorescent bulb, and bright white light blinded him. He thought, "Dammit, not again."
He said "Don't try to scream now
But I want this one to hurt
And tonight my pretty one
I'm gonna get my money's worth"
"the young girl was held on the bed by an unseen force, the dark shadow hovered over her, merely inches above her body, her back was arched painfully, her clothes were saturated with a deep crimson color, so much blood, the girl was looking towards him, her eyes were lifeless"
He gasped and shuddered. Sam had noticed that Dean was not in bed. He looked around and noticed the light on in the bathroom. He also heard Dean's ragged breathing. Immediately, Sam knew something was not right. He raced to the door only to be met by Dean. Sam said, "Dean…" Dean held up a hand to quiet him and side stepped his concerned little brother. Sam got in Dean's way and stared into his eyes. That was all it took. In one look, Sam knew exactly what Dean had just experienced. Dean had just had a vision. Or as Dean had so affectionately called them: Sam's "Shining" moments. No pun intended. Sam had so many questions. Dean squeezed past Sam and walked towards the door. He needed fresh air. He needed a moment.
He said they never listen
She said they never understand
I don't do this for pleasure
I just do this cause I can
Later on, Dean walked back into the hotel room with breakfast. He gave Sam a bag and a piece of paper. "What's this supposed to be?" Sam asked. "I don't know. I keep seeing it." Dean replied. "So you are having visions. How long has this been going on?" Sam asked. Dean shrugged. "This is a first for me Sammy." Sam looked down at the drawing. It was of a door with an intricate symbol carved into it. Luckily, Sam remembered where he saw it. "Do you remember that house we passed about five miles out of town?" Sam asked Dean. He nodded. "How do you do that? We were tired as hell and hungry and you remember what you see on a door. I guess that's why I'm the beauty and you're the brains." Dean said. Sam had to laugh at that one. Dean did remember though. He saw its dead trees, over-grown yard, and peeling paint. But he remembered the door looking as though it was brand new. It was very odd and out of place.
I swear I didn't want to
And I swear I didn't know
That things like this could happen
To a seventeen year old
Sam began to get his lap top out, readying himself for the research of the ornate carving. Dean sighed. He decided to tell Sam exactly what he had seen. After the quick, but detailed version, Sam sat there and tried to let the information settle with him. He knew there had to be something to this symbol. It was bugging him to be honest. He scoured the internet. When nothing came up, he turned to their most reliable source. Dad's Journal. Just as Sam found what he was looking for, he heard a dull thud. He looked up to see his brother's eyes roll back into his head and see his body crash into the floor. Sam had never had a vision hit him that hard, but it was a vision none-the-less and Dean would not come out of it until he had seen all he was supposed to see. He was just going to have to sit there and wait it out.
And I've bundled up all of this fear inside
And I've bottled up all of this pain
And no one or nothing can take this away
But I won't let it happen again, Never again
Dean's eyes fluttered. He tried to jump up but found he could not. Sam's strong but gentle hand was keeping him on the floor. "Dude, take a moment. You were out of it for like 2 minutes." "No, Sam, we have to go now." Dean all but yelled. Sam stayed put long enough to see that Dean knew something was up and he knew to always trust his big brother. The two got up and quickly changed clothes and dashed to the car. Once inside and racing out of town, Sam decided to ask. "You have to tell me. What did you see?" Dean stayed quiet. "Dean! Tell me now. I'm not going in there blind." Sam yelled. Dean replied, "Man, we have to. I don't know what we're facing and frankly I don't give a damn. I just watched that girl die. If I have the chance, I'm gonna do what ever the hell I have to so I can save her. Sammy, I think it's the yellow-eyed demon. I can't be sure but I swear I saw the flash of yellow." Sam sat there slack jawed. They had pulled up at the house. "Dean, did you recognize the girl?" Sam asked. Dean shook his head no. "Man, I really need you to think now. You know the yellow-eyed demon only goes after people we've dealt with in the past." "Sam I don't know. Just grab the flashlight and let's go." The dynamic duo stepped on the porch and could instantly feel that something evil was inside the house.
In the haze of that smoky room
He chokes that bottle down
It's been a month since he saw that face
Underneath the blood stained gown
Dean felt Sam standing beside him and he reared back to kick the door in. It flew open with ease. He heard Sam gasp. There was so much blood. Dean kept his shotgun at the ready, not knowing what or who he was going to face. He sure as hell wasn't going to take any chances. "Sam, you go left, I'll go right. We meet back here in 10 minutes. Got that?" Dean asked. Sam nodded and took off. Slowly, Dean took in each room. The smell was horrible. The blood was everywhere. If there was this much, he hoped that it was from more than one person. Then he heard Sam. "DEAN! DEAN, hurry up." Dean dashed from the parlor and back tracked his steps. He found Sam standing over the body of the girl in his visions. Sam's face was pale and his eyes were terrified. Dean slumped down to the carpet. "No. I saw it, I was supposed to stop it" he said defeatedly. Sam checked the body for any sign of a pulse. He whispered, "I'm sorry Dean." He sat there on the floor of the creaking house. Sam came up behind him and put a comforting hand on Dean's shoulder. "Dean, we need to go. Come on." Dean nodded and walked to the front door.
He thinks about that little girl
And the one he has at home
And wonders, "what if that was my little girl,
Walking down that road alone."
Dean could feel himself walking to the Impala. He felt himself start the car and pull out of the driveway. He felt himself pull up to the motel. But his mind was still in that house, looking at the girl he couldn't save. Her body was almost mutilated. He closed his eyes and sighed. Sam looked at him and said, "Come on, let's go get a drink." Dean nodded and followed his brother across the street to a bar. They entered the bar and noticed the low-key atmosphere. Nothing major. Sam walked to the bar and came back with two beers. They picked a booth in the back and just watched as people walked in. Sam was torn apart, seeing his brother look as dejected as he did. Dean sat there and wondered what had gone wrong. Sam's visions were before the incident happened. Why not his? Just as he went to take a sip of his drink, he looked to the door and saw a young girl come in and walk behind the counter. "Sam, look at that girl behind the counter. The cute brunette with the athletic body. Does she look familiar?" Sam shook his head no and walked off to the bathroom. Dean swore she looked like the girl from the house. The girl who had more than likely bled to death. What in the hell had just happened. The girl smiled sweetly at Dean and walked over with another two beers. "Refill hon?" She asked. Dean just stared. She leaned down where she could whisper in his ear. "Dean, darling, you should know by now, we are all watching you, waiting to see what you do. I'm hoping I can get to you before anyone else." She stood up right and Dean saw her eyes. They were as yellow as yellow can be. It was the yellow eyed demon. Standing right in front of him. "You know that was just a test right? You failed miserably. I think I will stick to Sam for future vision missions." She closed her eyes and they returned to their beautiful blue hue from once before. She walked off and Sam came back. "Dean, what's wrong?" he asked. "We have to go now." Without asking questions, Sam promptly dropped a few bills on the table and followed his big brother out the front door. Ready for the next fight.
And I've bundled up all of this fear inside
And I've bottled up all of this pain
And nothing or no one can take this away
But I won't let it happen again.
Maybe I'm just crazy, or the devil got inside
But either way my soul is gone and I'm living this all a lie
One hand throws the whiskey and the other throws the gun
And he cries out to the heavens, I am not my fathers son
AN: I hope this flowed smooth like it did in my head. PEACE, LOVE AND MANY REVIEWS!
