Wayward Son

Author: Edie Zee

Summary: As the end of Dean's year draws near, he starts to fall apart while Sam and others look for a way to save him.

Rating:

Disclaimer: I don't own anything except the characters I made up.

Author's Note: If you haven't ready my story "You Can't Go Home Again," you won't know who some of the characters are.

Chapter One - Once I rose above the noise and confusion

Sam let out a shout of fear, watching helplessly as Dean and the Shapeshifter went over the edge of the roof. The younger Winchester raced over, afraid to look but also desperate to do so. He let out a sigh of relief and clutched his chest to calm his pounding heart. The Shapeshifter had landed on a parked car, and Dean had landed on the Shapeshifer. Dean was picking himself up slowly and painfully – but at least he was picking himself up.

Sam ran back to the staircase to take the safe way down to the street. By the time he reached his brother, Dean had already stabbed the Shapeshifter with a silver knife, and was inspecting his leather coat for any damage.

"What the hell, Dean?" Sam yelled, upset and angry. "There was no need to tackle him! Especially with where he was standing."

"Hey," Dean smiled cockily, "Got the job done, didn't it?"

"You could have been killed, Dean."

"Nah…my year's not up yet, Sammy."

Sam stared speechless after his brother, who had already begun the walk back to the other side of the building, where the Impala was waiting for them.

Following him, Sam shook his head but knew better than to say anything else. The closer the year's end came, the more reckless Dean was becoming and the less he wanted to discuss it. His brother had admitted a while ago that he didn't want to die, but since then Sam couldn't really get him to do anything about it. He kept reminding Sam that he couldn't do anything about it – if he did, the deal was void and Sam would die.

Sam, meanwhile, kept telling Dean that that didn't mean he couldn't do anything about it. But Dean wouldn't even talk about that anymore either.

Now…it was less than two months away, and instead of allowing time for Sam to research ways out of the deal, Dean was making them go after the supernatural at a relentless rate. They hadn't taken a break in two months – not since they had taken the time to visit Maia and Sam's other friends. Sam didn't know if Dean's single-mindedness was a way to ignore what was coming, or to make sure he took as many of the bad guys with him as he could – or if he was trying to get his death over with already. Sam knew the waiting was driving Dean nuts, if his pacing at night instead of sleeping was any indication.

Sam just wished Dean would talk to him, let him help…

Twenty minutes later, Sam was in their hotel room, and Dean was at the nearby bar. Sam had begged off going with him, not wanting to waste time he could be using to save Dean's life.

Dean sat at the bar, nursing his beer and pretending his body didn't ache from the fall earlier. He was on his third drink, but it wasn't doing much to drown out the thoughts that were pretty much constantly with him these days. Lately, alcohol was the only thing that could help him with the fears, dread and hopelessness – and now even alcohol was failing him.

A tiny little blonde pressed up against him to order her drink. The bar wasn't crowded enough to necessitate that, so Dean took it as his cue to turn to her with his patented, charming smile. Maybe she'll help…

Dean pounded into the girl, closing his eyes and trying to ignore the fact that it bothered him that her hair wasn't silky smooth auburn. That her gasps didn't sound quite right. That her body didn't feel quite right. She was the latest attempt to forget about a certain person who did look, sound, and feel right. Dean would never admit to Sam – or himself – that he was trying to forget her…or admit that these girls weren't quite as satisfying as they used to be.

The girl – Lisa? Kelly? – screamed out his name, clawing at his back. Also finishing, Dean rolled off her and immediately began to get dressed to leave, not even pretending that she meant more to him than a soft body with which to find his own release.

The girl looked offended, but Dean couldn't bring himself to feel guilty. Lately, he couldn't bring himself to feel anything…

Two Months Ago…

Dean couldn't help smiling at how happy Sam looked at the sight of Maia running out of the house the second she saw the Impala pull up to the curb. Sam launched himself out of the car just in time to be tackled with a hug and a kiss.

Being around Sam's friends and girlfriend was something they tried to do as often as they could since the truth came out about a year ago. Dean usually had ulterior motives for driving in that direction – ever since Sam had died and Dean had made the deal, being around them was the only time Sam truly relaxed. Dean liked to see that. Not to mention, he knew Sam's friends would play an important part in helping Sam deal with …things…in a couple weeks.

While Sam's friends always welcomed Dean too, he still felt slightly uncomfortable in their world. Fortunately, they felt pretty much the same way – so no one noticed when he slipped out of the house to give them time to catch up. Sitting down on the front steps, Dean enjoyed the night's perfect California weather.

He pulled out his phone, temptation racing through his veins. He had almost called her several times this year and now, being in California, being so close, the urge to hear her voice was even stronger.

He just didn't understand the need for her when – technically – he had only known her at most a week. Not to mention that she would probably hang up on him if he did call, given the way he ended things.

The need for her was too strong tonight, but the fear of rejection (Me…afraid of rejection!) was just as strong, so he did the next best thing and dialed Bill's number before he could stop himself.

"Dean?" Bill's voice was confused and concerned – not knowing why the hunter was calling him for the first time in about a year.

"Hey, Bill."

"Is anything wrong?"

"No…no. We're in Palo Alto, so I just thought I'd call and see how things were going with you. Any more troubles?"

"No. Things are pretty quiet around here."

"That's good." The men made small talk for a while, with Dean giving some of the details of their most recent cases. The conversation was coming to a close before Dean gathered enough courage to ask, as nonchalantly as possible, how "Viola" Dawson was doing.

"Viola? God, she left at the end of last school year. I haven't heard from her since."

"Oh," Dean's heart clenched, wondering where she was, what she was doing, how she was doing…who she was doing… And he had no way of knowing without actually calling her.

Dean hung up a short while later, not really paying attention to the rest of the conversation. Snapping his phone shut, he tossed it from hand to hand.

Should I call her? Dean sighed, shaking his head. Even if she did forgive him, what would be the point? It would just be one more person that would have to watch him die…

Present time

Music was playing softly in the background, allowing Dean to sleep while Sam drove. That had been happening too much lately for Sam's comfort. He didn't know if he should be more worried that Dean regularly stumbled into the hotel room late, smelling of alcohol and sex, or if he should be more worried that Dean didn't seem to be concerned anymore about who drove his "baby."

Sam shook his head, at his wit's end for how to get through to Dean. His brother was spiraling out of control, and –

The sharp pain in his head caused Sam to gasp.

Dean, in a church, sitting in the front pew…

Lights flashing…

Dean on his knees, screaming in agony…

Coming back to himself, Sam opened his eyes to see that he was missing a turn and speeding straight toward a tree. Shouting in alarm, he slammed on the brakes, twisted the wheel, and braced for impact. Dean jerked awake, saw what was happening and reached out to grab onto any handhold he could find. The Impala missed the tree by an inch, but it still hit the side of the road going too fast. It flipped twice in a sickening crunch of metal and glass, and landed on its roof.

A couple more Author's Notes:

1) I know that for a Dean-focused story, I spent an awful lot of time on Sam's thoughts in this first chapter. It's not always going to be like this, but it might be sometimes. I'm doing that because obviously Sam is going to dwell on things and feelings more than Dean's going to. So I think that fits.

2) Much how in the last story I didn't write about the crossroads deal, I'm not going to deal much in this story with Sam's visions, Lillith and the coming war – basically the vision in this chapter and its aftermath will be the only times it's dealt with.

3) Some of you may have noticed that the mention of sex above isn't the "fade to black" approach I took in the last story. This also serves a purpose – I'm going to use sex in this story much like Dean does: as a way to try to deal with or avoid his problems. Hence the rating, and I'm sorry if anyone is offended (for those who might be offended, I'm not going to ever be too "descriptive" with things.)

4) I may be a little slower or less regular in my posting of this story. I am motivated to write it, but I really do have a lot of stuff to do as this semester winds to a close. I'd appreciate it if you stick with me through it, and I'll certainly do my best to post as much/ often as I can!