Disclaimer: Everything you recognize belongs to the wonderful Eric Kripke and the CW. The rest are figments of my imagination.
A/N: Takes place right after Children Shouldn't Play With Dead Things
Dean was sitting up in bed. It was four o'clock in the morning and he was stuck inside another in a long line of crappy motel rooms. He glanced over at his brother, sound asleep in the bed next him. Thanks to the strong painkillers they gave Sam at the hospital, he was able to sleep like a baby. Dean would have been jealous of Sam being able to sleep when he couldn't, if he didn't feel so incredibly guilty.
God why did I have to use Sam as bait? I can't believe that I let him get hurt like that. Once again Dean was taking the blame for something gone wrong. He refused see it was for what it was, an accident. Dean didn't stick Sam in the middle of a clearing wearing a sign that said break my arm please, did he? But he felt like he did.
Dean scrubbed a hand over his face and waited for sleep to come, but with the way his mind was whizzing he knew he wouldn't be falling asleep anytime soon. He couldn't get the image of watching Sam have his broken arm set out of his head. Dean refused to leave Sam's side when they were at the ER. Even though they gave him a painkiller first, Dean could still see how much it hurt his brother when the doctor set his broken bones in place.
I want you to watch out for Sammy, okay. That's what he said to me. And what did I say? Yeah, Dad, you know I will. So many times dad told me to watch out for Sammy. Well was I watching out for Sammy tonight? Huh Dad, was I following through on the one order you gave that was more important than any other order you ever gave me?
Dean suddenly felt a need for some fresh air, so he quietly got out of bed and exited the room. Making sure to lock the door, he walked around the motel until he came to a vacant lot behind the building. He walked until he stood dead center of a small field littered with weeds, trash and broken glass.
His mind couldn't help, but wander to a place where it had gone to so much lately. His dad's sacrifice. Dean knew with every fiber of his being that his dad had made a deal with their worst enemy. Why Dad, why would you do that? Why would you make a deal with that bastard for me? I'm not worth it.
"I'M NOT WORTH IT!" screamed Dean at the top of his lungs. "I'm not worth your life. Not by a long shot," said Dean just before he collapsed to the ground and cut his hand on a jagged piece of glass. Dean didn't feel the pain in his hand. All he felt, at that moment, was the pain in his heart and the pain in his soul.
Somewhere In HellSince making the deal with the demon to save Dean's life, John had been stuck in hell. It was far worse than he ever could have imagined. When John came home from Vietnam, he thought he would never experience anything worse than that again. Then he watched Mary burst into flames above their baby's crib. Now here in hell, he was forced to relive those moments and so many more. Dean being thrown into a wall by angry spirit, Sam tripping and falling down a flight of stairs when he was four, and Dean lying in a hospital bed with all kinds of tubes and wires hooked up to him were just a few of the images he saw on a daily basis. Still John didn't regret it. Not for one single second. Dean's life was worth so more than mine the father thought.
While in hell John had yet to have a visit from the thing that sent him there. That was about to change. Suddenly, the image of eight-year-old Sam falling off a jungle gym disappeared and the yellow-eyed demon stood before him.
"Hello Johnny boy," sneered the demon.
John refused to answer and instead fixed the demon with his nastiest glare. What the hell it that thing doing here he wondered.
"Long time no see," said the demon.
"What the hell do you want?" growled John.
"Oh that was funny. I know I haven't been here to visit you in your new home, but I have been busy. You know so many special children to visit, so little time," hissed the demon.
Sam's face filled John mind, but he pushed it away. He wouldn't give that bastard the satisfaction.
"What do you want?" John repeated.
"I just want to know, after all these months in hell, if you regret your decision to trade your life for your son's?" asked the demon.
"No!" stated John emphatically. He would ever regret trading his life for Dean's. Never.
"I thought you might say that, but there's something I want you to see. It just might make you change your mind," said the demon.
John had no clue what the demon was about to show him. Not in a million years would he be prepared for what he was about to see. His oldest boy's image appeared in front of him. Dean was standing in an empty lot screaming that he wasn't worth it.
"No, Dean, no," It was like a punch to John's stomach.
"See you trade your life for his and he doesn't even appreciate the sacrifice you made." The demon, not waiting for John to respond, disappeared just as quickly as he had appeared. John was left alone with nothing to do, but watch his son break down.
"No, Dean you are worth it. You are worth it," cried John as tears streamed down his face.
oooooOOOOooooo
Eventually exhaustion caught up with Dean and he got up off the ground and headed back to the motel. He stopped at his car and grabbed the first aidkit out of the trunk. Once inside the room, Dean headed straight for the bathroom. Luckily the cut on the palm of his hand wasn't too deep and wouldn't require stitches. One emergency room visit that night was already one too many.
After his hand was bandaged Dean stripped down to his boxers and got in bed. Even though he was exhausted, sleep still alluded him. I'm not worth it was still running, like a broken record, through his mind.
Somewhere in Heaven"Please, isn't there something we can do?" begged the woman.
"I've already told you a hundred times. A deal like that, with a high ranking demon, can't be broken," said the Angel.
"I know, but there must be something you can do. He's hurting so badly. Please." Her eyes silently begging the angel to do anything, no matter how small, to alleviate some of the man's pain.
"Well, maybe there is something I can do. I make no promises," spoke the angel.
"Thank you," cried the woman.
oooooOOOOooooo
Dean was still awake in bed, the same mantra running through his mind. I'm not worth it he thought. You are worth it son. What the hell? Where did that come from thought Dean. You are worth it Dean.
"Dad," whispered Dean.
He got no answer except Sam's soft breathing. Am I losing my mind? Did Dad give up his life for a crazy son, who's not worth it wondered Dean? Dean Winchester you have been worth it since the day the doctor placed you in my arms, barely a few minutes old, but already the most valuable thing in the world to me. My precious boy you are worth it.
Dean didn't understand what had just happened, but he felt so much better. Turning over he finally drifted off to sleep, his father's word drifting through his mind. You are worth it Dean.
oooooOOOOooooo
For a brief moment the unending images of torment in front of John were replaced with the image of Dean sleeping, a smile played out across his face. For the first time in months, John felt his spirit lift.
oooooOOOOooooo
Mary Winchester turned to the angel beside her. She couldn't keep the tears out of her eyes. "Thank you so much."
The End
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