A/N: Just a little idea I had this morning. Everybody writes stories where Dean goes to the edge of humanity to save Sam... What if it was the other way around?
Dean was thirteen when it happened the first time, and fourteen when it happened the last time. He didn't know why Mr. Egan, the gym teacher, chose him. Didn't know why he didn't say anything. Didn't know what people would say if he had said anything. Didn't know what he would say.
He didn't know a lot of things right then.
It continued the whole year the Winchesters stayed in New London, Wisconsin. John liked the area, and the hunting (actual hunting, deer, elk, bear...) was great, along with the occasional spook or wendigo, and he figured it wouldn't hurt the boys to get one solid year of schooling.
Of course, the one time Dean wanted to haul ass outta town, was the one time his dad was gonna try to be domesticated.
The last time was so bad that it tore Dean apart, worse than ever before. Dean had heard rumors that Egan's wife had left him, but to be honest, by the time Egan was done, Dean was beyond caring why. Beyond feeling, at that point.
"Come on, get outta here!" Egan snapped, kicking Dean across the tiled floor of the showers. "Move it, Trumble! If you ain't outta here by the time I lock up, you're staying back here!"
Dean hurriedly tried putting his jeans on. But his eyes wouldn't focus enough for him to even find the leg holes. Egan had slammed his head off the floor, and, if he had been capable of rational thought at that moment, Dean would have known he probably had a concussion.
Somehow -for the life of him, he'd never remember how- he'd gotten himself dressed (although his pants were unbuttoned, his shoes on the wrong feet, his shirt inside out, and his jacket half-hanging off of him), but he had, and he managed to make it outside the school doors, where Sammy was waiting.
Ten year old Sam jumped up from the steps. "Dean, what the hell man? You look like shit. What happened to your face?"
Dean absently reached his hand up to slowly trace over the new bruises and cuts. It seemed to him like the whole world was moving in slow motion. "I... don't know... Maybe... basketball... Maybe I tripped... and fell..." He said thickly.
" 'Maybe'? You don't know whether you tripped or not? Dean, what the hell is wrong?" Sam asked, his voice worried as he slowly helped Dean down the steps. His eyes grew hard when he seen blood on the back of Dean's pants.
"Dean... Dean, who did this? What happened?"
Dean shook his head. "I... don't know... can't think... It hurts, Sammy." Dean let out a small yelp as Egan speed past them in his new F150, and a small, grim smile came to Sam's face.
"Dean... Hey, listen to me, man. I'm gonna go call dad to pick you up, okay? You sit right there and wait for him. Don't move. Understand?"
Dean looked at Sam in confusion. "Wait... You can't... don't tell me... what to do..." Dean said, his voice unsure. But when he seen the look on Sam's face, he nodded. "Okay... yeah... wait here for dad..."
Sam nodded, satisfied, and headed off down the street. He followed Mr. Egan through town, running for the pay phone when he stopped at the 7-11.
John picked up on the first ring. "Dean? Where the hell are you two?"
"It's Sam, dad. Dean needs you to pick him up. He's waiting at the school for you. He's probably gonna need some doctoring up."
"What the hell is going on, Samuel?"
"Just go get Dean, dad. I gotta go," Sam said quickly, hanging the phone up, and taking off at a jog, following Egan's truck again.
Thomas Egan slammed the door closed on his truck, just barely remembering to punch the button to close the garage door before he went inside.
Who the hell did Cassie think she was to leave him? Especially over sex. Dammit, she was his wife, and he had the right to demand any type of sex he wanted from her.
He still couldn't believe she'd went to the hospital the last time, the little bitch. She did it just for attention, it wasn't like-
"Hello, Mr. Egan."
Tom spun around quickly. His heart slowed down a bit when he seen the boy sitting at his dining room table, and a smile came to his face. The Trumble boy had been great, but Tom was always up for another round. And it looked like one of his friends had sent him just that.
"Hi, there sonny. What's your name?"
The boy smiled, and Tom took a step back. That smile was evil, demonic, not right on the face of such a small boy.
"My name's Samuel. But you can call me Sam. I believe you know my brother, Dean?"
Tom could feel the blood draining from his face. "Look, I don't know what you're doing here kid, But I think you should leave now."
"Oh... Mr. Egan, I can't do that..."
Quicker than the older man could follow, the boy was up, and bashed him on the head with the butt of a gun.
"Then the fun would be over, much to quick..."
Sam smiled to himself as he busied himself tying the man to the dining room chair.
Oh boy... this would be fun.
John Winchester frowned as he heard the front door open. "Samuel? You better have a damn good-" He stopped abruptly when he seen his youngest son.
His hands, face, and chest were covered in blood. Tiny speckles of it dotted his hair. But despite all that, all John could focus on was the smile on Sam's face.
"Hi, dad. I think I should go get cleaned up, don't you? Then we might wanna hit the road tomorrow night."
John stood where he had stopped, half standing half sitting in the recliner.
He'd thought Sam was doing better. It was a foolish hope, he'd known that all along. Because there was something evil inside his youngest son. It very rarely came out, but when Dean was in danger, it reared it's ugly head, taking over Sam's body fully, allowing the boy to do thing no human should be able to do.
John had tried an exorcism one night when Sam was six. It was late, long after both boys had gone to sleep in their separate bedrooms.
John had barely finished the exorcism, when Sam looked up with those eyes that weren't Sam's kind, gentle eyes, and laughed quietly.
"I'm not a demon, Johnny. Try as you might, I'm here to stay in your little baby boy. We'll get along better if you don't try."
John had quietly left.
It had been a long time, almost two years since the last time he'd seen... whatever it was that lived in his son.
John's reverie was cut short as Sam came back downstairs, drying his hair. John only had to take once glance at the face, and know that it was still in the driver's seat of Sam's body.
"Do I have to worry about whoever did that to Dean?"
Sam's body laughed, but it was it's laugh. "Mr. Thomas Egan? Oh no, no worries there. Although there might be a problem when they find what's left of him."
"What happened?" John asked quietly.
"He raped Dean," Was the sharp, tight response. "I don't know for how long, I don't pick up on things all that great anymore. But he raped him, sure as shit." The evil grin was back. "But don't worry. The thing that was Mr. Egan is spread all around his dining room. It was slow and messy, just the way I like it, uh huh uh huh uh huh," It said, singing the stupid rap song.
"What are you?" John demanded quietly. "What are you doing inside my son?"
"Oh, Johnny boy... I am your son. I'm just another part of him. He's in here-" It pointed at Sam's head. "-hiding away. Your boy created me. He was to soft, to gentle to deal with what you were teaching him. So he made me. I'm the one who does all the evil things that Sammy only imagines. I'm the one who makes sure he doesn't see or do anything that would bother him. I'm the one who looks out for Dean, like Dean looks out for Sammy.
"But don't worry, John. We'll go upstairs, go to sleep, and in the morning, it'll be Sam again. And he can feel proud of himself, knowing that he -with a little bit of help from moi- took care of the big bad monster, and helped save his brother.
"Well... good night, daddy dearest."
It got up, and headed towards the stairs. But it paused for a moment, then looked back at John.
"You know, I've never thought of it... Your training, and 'hunting' made Sammy come up with me. So did Sam make me... or did you?"
With that, it turned and went back upstairs.
It seems what's left of my human side is slowly changing in me
Looking at my own reflection
When suddenly it changes
Violently it changes
There is no turning back now,
you've woken up the demon in me.
I can see inside you the sickness is rising
Don't try to deny what you feel.
It seems that all that was good has died
and is decaying in me.
It seems you're having some trouble
In dealing with these changes
Living with these changes.
Oh, no. The world is a scary place
Now that you've woken up the demon in me.