Title: Better Tomorrow
Fandom/Genre: Supernatural/AU
Pairing (s): Dean/Castiel, background Charlie/Jo
Rating: R
Word Count: ~35, 000
Warnings: violence, mind control and brainwashing, genocide, mention of torture, frottage, blowjob, minor character death, deaf character, implied abuse
Summary:
Dean Winchester is 18 years old and he lost his father a year ago in a car accident, leaving him with only his mother and younger brother. His mother decides that a new town will help them deal with their grief. The people in the town seemed strange until the appearance of the blue-eyed stranger leads Dean to shocking discoveries about US president Dick Roman and his plan to control the mind of every citizen. Dean joins the group of people immune to Roman's vicious project who are trying to find a cure and save the world. Although the world is suffering, Dean gets closer to a mysterious Castiel Novak. But is it possible to find love while everything around them is crumbling down?
Fuck. Damn boxes.
For the third time that morning, Dean tripped over one of many boxes covering the floor of his new room. He let out a frustrated sigh as he looked for his jeans. He couldn't stand the mess in his room, but cleaning it up meant accepting the change and Dean's stubborn mind wasn't ready for that. He had many beautiful memories from Lawrence: playing in the park near their house, his parents by his side; taking walks with Sammy, laughing and teasing each other; his first kiss by an old oak tree behind the school. He understood, though, why his mother wanted to move: sadder, darker memories were haunting the now.
As he walked to the bathroom, Dean heard murmuring from downstairs, telling him that Sam and Mary were already up, so he took his time in the shower, trying to delay seeing his mother and brother.
A year ago, on March 6th, John Winchester died in a car accident. His father worked for the government and his job was dangerous, but Dean never thought he would actually lose him. A wave of guilt knocked him down every time he remembered the last months of John's life and their big fight. Dean tried to be strong and not show it for Sam and Mary's sake.
When he finished showering, the smell of food lured him into the kitchen.
Mary smiled when she noticed him. "Good morning, sweetheart. You hungry?"
"You know it." He grabbed the plate and kissed Mary's cheek. "How are you, mom?"
"I'm fine. Don't worry about me." She smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. It had been a long time since he'd seen her real smile. The ache in his chest tightened. He knew she tried to be strong for them, but he saw her wiping tears away many times.
Dean wanted to comfort her, but Sam entered the room at that moment. His eyes were red and tired, and Dean wondered if he had cried.
"Hey, Sammy. Give me a moment to eat and then we can go."
The only response he got was a short nod as Sam sat down. Dean remembered the cheerful, loud kid that Sam used to be, always jumping around and talking about something. Now he stayed quiet and spent most of his time reading and studying. Sam hadn't gotten along with their father- Dean supposed because they were too much alike, stubborn and ready to argue- but Sam was devastated when John died. Dean wondered if Sam felt guilty too. They'd have to have a serious talk about it later. They had avoided the subject for too long.
After saying goodbye to Mary, they walked toward the Impala, one of the last of John's possessions they still used. Dean had refused to sell it like Mary wanted because his father always told him the Impala would be his one day. Dean dragged a hand over the hood and smiled before getting in.
Lebanon was a small city, so the ride to the school didn't last long, and most of it they spent in silence. They moved a week ago because Mary insisted they needed a change, but Dean knew that the pitying stares from coworkers and neighbors angered her. She had found a new job in a local hospital, so they had packed their stuff and come here. New beginning.
Dean parked the Impala in front of the school and Sam fled out and hurried toward the entrance. He tried to catch up with him, but lost him in a crowd of students. Sam must have figured that he wanted to talk, but he couldn't hide and run forever. Dean would corner him eventually. He sighed as he walked to his locker. Bigger worries loomed over him at that moment, like a new school in the middle of his senior year.
This school was a lot smaller than his old one, so he navigated through the halls without problems, and since they had gotten their locker numbers, schedule and books the day before, he didn't have to worry about that. He expected stares and whispers in his direction for being new, especially because it was a small town, but no one paid attention to him. No one even spoke to him, except teachers who told him where to sit and how to behave. He watched too many movies where a new kid meant attention, but he knew better now and as much as it relieved him that people didn't bother him, he would have appreciated help. He didn't know these people yet, so he didn't approach anyone either. The last thing he wanted was to step on someone's toes.
On lunch break, Dean entered the cafeteria and it surprised him how quietly people talked- in Lawrence you couldn't hear your thoughts over the shouting- and how stiff everyone looked, sitting properly in an almost identical way. It weirded him out, but he shrugged it off when he remembered the principal.
Zachariah Adler was a serious and strict man. When they'd talked to him for enrolling at the school, he'd combed through every detail in their documents and acted like an army general and not the high school principal he was. Dean had never felt more creeped out.
One of his rules probably caused the weird behavior and would explain why no one looked relaxed. Dean would have to follow it too, because he didn't want trouble.
He found an empty table in a corner of the room with only one scrawny boy sitting there, engrossed in a thick book. As he sat he greeted the boy who either didn't notice him or ignored him.
Dean cleared his throat. "Hey, you don't mind me sitting here, right? I'm Dean."
"You can sit wherever you want. This is a free country." The boy spoke and when he finally looked at Dean, he added, "I'm Garth. Welcome to Lebanon."
"Uh, yeah, thanks. So what are you reading?"
"A biology book. I wanna be a dentist."
Dean's eyebrows shot up, but Garth looked so proud he decided not to comment on his career choice.
Garth asked him about his experience so far and Dean gave him a vague answer, not wanting to complain. They ate and talked until slowly their conversation turned into comfortable silence which filled the rest of the lunch break.
Meeting Garth sparked hope in Dean about the new school. Maybe it wouldn't be bad and he would actually enjoy the last three months of his high school life.
The rest of the day passed quickly. He listened in classes and it didn't take him long to adjust to the new teachers.
He waited for Sam by the Impala as his brother walked out of the building, chatting up a dark-haired girl. He seemed more animated than in the morning and Dean was glad to see him in a better mood.
"Hey, Sammy. New friend?" He asked when Sam finally joined him.
"Yeah. Her name is Sarah and she's a freshman like me. She helped me get around."
They got into the car and Dean started to drive. For a few minutes they remained silent, but after a while Sam spoke, "Have you met anyone today?"
"Mhm. Garth. Dude wants to be a dentist which is weird, but he's okay."
Sam chuckled and Dean's eyes flicked toward him. He hadn't heard that sound in a while.
"Are you hungry? Mom said we should order pizza."
"Not really," Sam said and turned his head towards the window, finishing their chat.
They entered the house where darkness and silence greeted them. Sam immediately ran to his room. And it was said Dean avoided talking about feelings. Still, Dean knew better than pressure him- when he was ready, Sam would come to him and Dean would listen to him and do his best to comfort him.
After ordering pizza, he texted Mary and asked her when she would be coming home. He knew she probably spent the whole day dealing with the few documents about their move they didn't already have. Something about garbage control and furniture validity. The new government had strict rules about documentation. A move to another city required at least ten documents approving it, and a move across state needed ten more.
It all started when Richard Roman had become president in November a little over a year ago. At first, Dean had thought he was funny and cool, because he insisted that people call him Dick and he was always cracking jokes, but after a while he became creepy. Whenever he was on TV he looked directly at the camera and talked with a flat voice. Besides, since he'd become president other politicians had changed. The government listened only to Roman and they approved every law he introduced.
Dean didn't understand why it was necessary to dictate how much garbage a week one household could make or why they needed approval for their furniture, car or every redecoration they made in their home, but no one was complaining or even talking about it, so he tried not to be bothered.
Dean rubbed his eyes and frowned at his phone. It looked like Mary wouldn't return any time soon. When the pizza came, he took it in the living room and turned on the TV. He called Sam, but his brother ignored him so he saved some pizza for him. He ate while the low sound from the TV kept him company.
He must have fallen asleep soon after, because the next thing he knew was Mary shaking him awake.
"Mom, hey," he said, rubbing his eyes and yawning.
"Go to bed, sweetie. It's been a hard day for all of us."
"Yeah. Sam ran away from me when I wanted to talk with him."
"Don't worry about that. I'll take care of Sam," Mary said fondly.
"And who will take care of you?"
Mary looked surprised, but then her eyes softened and she gently patted his cheek, "We take care of each other. We are strongest together."
Dean nodded and went to his room. Walking towards his bed, he stumbled over a box. When he looked inside it, he saw a picture of his family- all four of them standing by the Grand Canyon. It had been a surprise trip: one morning John had announced that they were going on a 'journey of life', as he had called it. They sat in the Impala and drove. It took them a day, but it was worth it; they were together, laughing and singing and Dean still remembered it as the best day of his life. His lips turned upwards into a nostalgic smile.
"We're gonna be okay, dad. I promise."
A week passed and Dean slowly got used to the new routine. He didn't talk with many of his classmates and when he did it related to school, but he had his lunch buddy to entertain him. He and Garth shared only small conversations, but it felt like friendship. Sam busied himself with schoolwork; he and Sarah studied together every day in the library. He didn't want Dean waiting for him, so he walked from school every day, but their house wasn't too far from school and Sam always did like physical activity more than him. Dean was worried about his brother, but he believed that Sam would talk to him if something was seriously troubling him.
Dean was strolling towards his car and whistling some catchy song he had heard that morning, when one of the jocks bumped into him and knocked him down.
"Hey, watch where you're going, dude," Dean stood up and mentally prepared himself for a possible fight, but the other guy's eyes widened while he repeated apologizes. Dean shrugged him off and walked away. It still surprised him how nice people were here. In his old school, someone would have started a fight for sure.
Once he was in his car, he realized his arm stung. He lifted his sleeve to look at his vaccine mark. It was red with a few yellow spots around it. When he touched it, the pain shot through his whole arm. Dean grunted and threw his head back against the seat. He'd hoped his mark had finally healed, but apparently not. Four months had passed since the vaccination and it hadn't stopped hurting.
In November, Dick Roman and his team of world-class scientists had released a new vaccine which was free for all people and worked against all virus diseases. A special team of medics traveled all over the US administering the vaccine. In a week the whole country was inoculated except children younger than fifteen because it wasn't safe for them, so Sam, who would be fifteen in two months, would have to get it then.
Dean couldn't believe his luck. The red, ugly mark was staring at him and Dean could almost hear it laughing. Soon it would be too hot for long sleeves and then there wouldn't be a way to hide the mark. Hopefully his mother would know what to do; after all, she was a nurse.
He drove slower and sloppier than usual because his hand hurt when he moved it. He hoped that Mary was home because the pain was unbearable.
"Mom, you home?" He shouted when he entered the house. The smell of pie enveloped him and he grinned. Sometimes you had to look forward to the little things.
"Hey, honey. How are you?" Mary asked him after he came into the kitchen to greet her.
"My arm hurts again. I fell and hit it. It looks pretty bad too."
He rolled his sleeve up and showed his arm to Mary, who gently touched the flaming skin. Dean flinched at the touch and gritted his teeth.
"Don't worry, Dean. It's not that bad. It will heal in a few days."
"But, mom, it's been hurting me since I got vaccinated. Shouldn't it have gotten better already?"
"Some people are more sensitive than the others and you have always been more sensitive," Mary said and went back to her cooking.
"That's stupid. People were supposed to be healthier thanks to the vaccine, but I'm going to lose my arm 'cause of it." Dean raised his voice, "This whole thing is stupid. Why should all people take the vaccine, especially if they are 'sensitive', huh? People were practically forced into doing it. What the fu- hell is Dick Roman doing? Don't you see that something is off?" He didn't mean to yell, but the words flew out of his mouth. He hadn't realized before how angry he actually was.
Mary had her back turned towards Dean and when Dean started ranting, she froze in the middle of her chore and stared at the wall. After Dean finished, he was flushed and his breathing was fast and shallow. Mary slowly turned around to look at him. Her face was drawn and her hands were pressed into a loose fist.
"Don't talk like that Dean," she said quietly but firmly. "This vaccine was a revolutionary discovery. It has helped and will continue to help a lot of people. Dick Roman is probably the best president this country ever had." Mary stopped for a moment before relaxing her posture and continuing, "And watch your language."
"So what, I can't disagree with you? I'm 18. I can vote so I have every right to complain."
"Dean, don't. Keep this to yourself. You don't want to get into a fight because of politics. You're too young for that," she tried to laugh, but gave up when Dean didn't join her.
"Sure, whatever," Dean pressed his lips together and stormed out of the room.
Once he reached his room and his stomach grumbled he realized that he hadn't eaten anything. His muscles were tense and he punched a pillow with his healthy arm. His mother's reaction confused him- he hadn't said anything bad, just expressed his doubt and concern.
But maybe his mother was right- she usually was- and he had overreacted. Yet, his guts told him something fishy was happening. He lay on his bed and stared at the ceiling.
What the hell is going on, he wondered.
—
His arm still hurt for a few days, but the pain killers and ice packs helped and it stopped looking like he carved a hole into it. Dean listened to Mary and kept his opinions to himself, but it didn't stop him from researching. The first place he looked: the Internet. He was surprised when he found almost no complaints about the vaccine or Roman and his politics. One of the websites he did find was led by two guys who called themselves The AlienFacers and they claimed that Dick Roman was an alien monster that could control minds. And eat people. He huffed a laugh and closed his laptop- people could be ridiculous.
But something was still nagging at him. He remembered that when Roman was elected, former president Dale had moved to the house he had in the country and his dad was selected to guard him. But after president Dale was killed a month later, John was moved to Washington. He'd worked in the White House, but not in direct contact with Roman. A month before he died, he'd come back home. He had said he'd taken a vacation. Dean didn't know what had happened to him, but John was alert and guarded constantly. At the time they'd suspected he was sick, maybe, but now Dean had a feeling something else had been bothering him.
Later that day, Dean finally managed to have a talk with Sam. In some way.
"Hey, Sammy, you okay? Wanna talk about something, anything?"
"Dean," Sam sighed. "Yes, I am sad about dad. No, I still don't want to talk about it."
With that Sam left. If that was what he wanted, Dean would leave him alone and wait for Sam to come to him when he was ready.
On Friday, Dean stayed in the library after school, writing an essay. Sam and Sarah left earlier than usual to get a frozen yogurt and Dean sent a wink in Sam's direction and, in return, got a glare and tightly pressed lips.
After finishing, he walked through the long, deserted hallway ready to leave when he heard loud yelling and pounding. He walked towards the noise and realized it was coming from Zachariah's office. The doors of the office were cracked open and he peeked inside.
Zachariah stood in front of Chuck Shurley, Dean's English teacher, who was sobbing. Chuck's upper lip was bloody, his body was shaking and he kept mumbling I'm sorry repeatedly. Zachariah was yelling something about missing files and greater punishment.
Dean didn't understand what was happening, but when Zachariah raised his hand to throw a punch at Chuck, Dean couldn't help himself. He jumped into the room and hurried to stand between the two men.
"Stop," Dean yelled.
"Go away, kid. We are having a meeting," Zachariah said calmly like he hadn't been about to hit another man just few seconds before.
"Yeah, your fist was meeting his face. Um, I don't know what Mr. Shurley did, but I'm sure it's not okay to punch him for it," Dean was still shielding Chuck, but with less confidence than before. His principal could really pull an intimidating look.
Zachariah stepped forward and grabbed the collar of Dean's jacket. He started shaking Dean and was about to push him on the ground when Dean came to his senses and shoved Zachariah away. The principal stumbled backwards and hit his desk.
Dean realized what he'd done and started to apologize, but he was stopped with Zachariah's impatient growl.
"What's your name, boy? You got a month of detention starting now. Consider yourself lucky that I didn't expel you."
"Dean Winchester. I'm really sorry, sir. Thank you, sir."
"Both of you, out, now." Zachariah growled and gave Dean a note for detention.
Dean and Chuck hurried outside.
"Are you okay?" He asked once they were far enough from Zachariah's office.
"Yes, I'm fine. But, you shouldn't have done that, Dean. I deserved punishment for my mistake."
Dean couldn't believe what he was hearing. Since he first saw him, Chuck seemed clumsy with low self-confidence, but Dean didn't think he'd let someone abuse him.
"I think you are wrong, sir," Dean said, "You should report him."
"Boy, you are crazy. Why would I report him?" Chuck looked at him with disbelief in his wide eyes. Dean furrowed his eyebrows and stared at his teacher who shook his head and left, muttering something about crazy teenagers.
Dean pinched himself and winced in pain. Not a dream, then, he thought.
He walked towards the classroom where detention was held. It was late and he wasn't sure if anyone was still there, but he decided to check. He quickly texted Mary to let her know that he was staying longer, but he maybe forgot to mention the part about detention. His mother didn't have to know yet, or ever.
The classroom was empty; only his geography teacher sat at the desk.
"Hello, is detention here? Principal Adler sent me."
The teacher looked at him and gestured towards the room.
"We don't have students in detention often. But you just sit here and be quiet. No cell phones, please. You have twenty minutes left today."
"Why are you here, then, if no one is staying behind?"
"It's my job, silly," and once again Dean was given that look, the 'are you crazy' look, like he was crazy for asking why someone would sit in an empty classroom doing nothing.
They stopped talking and Dean took his books out. At least he could do something useful.
He looked through the window and noticed a guy standing beside the trees near the school parking lot. He had a messy dark hair and black outfit. He didn't look much older than Dean, so Dean regarded him as another student. It seemed like he was looking right at him so Dean lowered his gaze. After a few moments he couldn't resist looking up again, but the guy was nowhere to be found. He looked around, but he couldn't see him anywhere.
Dean sighed and went back to his work. Maybe it really was him that was going crazy and not the rest of the world.
Twenty minutes later Dean was free to go. He gathered his books and rushed to the school's exit. When he was about to step outside the building, he felt another body colliding with him. Dean lost his balance, but before he fell, strong arms grabbed him and steadied him. When he looked up, he noticed blue eyes squinting at him. The guy was still gripping his shoulders, so Dean slowly squirmed out of his hold.
"Hey, sorry about that," he said, but the other guy just nodded. The guy was staring at him, and after Dean looked him up and down, he realized that it was the same guy he'd seen through the window.
"I know I'm pretty, but you should really control your staring, dude."
The guy flushed and started fidgeting, but he finally looked away.
"I'm sorry, Dean. It's really nice to finally meet you." The guy smiled shyly.
"How do you know my name?" Dean took a step back and crossed his arms.
"You are famous in the place I come from."
"Yeah, and where's that? The nut house?"
The guy ignored him and continued talking, gazing somewhere in the distance, "Dean, I know what you did to your principal."
Dean knew he was screwed. He had hoped he would be able to keep that to himself. "It was an accident, okay? I'm not looking for trouble."
"You stood up to him. No one does that, not anymore," the guy suddenly looked at Dean. "Unless they are immune."
"Immune to what? I think you had one too many, buddy. You should go home," Dean began walking towards the parking lot. It was late and he was tired and not in the mood to chat with weird, crazy guys. Not even if they were hot. Which this guy was not.
The guy grabbed his shoulder again. "You have to come with me, Dean."
"I only do that after the second date," Dean winked and bolted, but the guy followed him. "Besides, I don't even know your name."
"Dean, please. I have to ask you some questions. What do you know about Dick Roman?"
That made Dean stop. He gave him a cautious once-over.
"He's the best president this country ever had," Dean answered after some time.
"It doesn't sound like you believe it." The guy smirked.
"Do I have to believe it?"
"No, I suppose you don't. But, I need you to come with me."
"Dude, no means no."
Dean turned around and tried to walk away, but suddenly he felt a throbbing pain on the back of his head and everything turned dark.