Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or its characters. This story is AU and takes place at the beginning of the series.

Dean was tired. He hadn't slept in three days, and it was taking every ounce of his concentration to get out the lengthy Latin exorcism without error. Truth be told, he was struggling. And John was not being very patient.

"I swear, Dean, if you screw this up one more time --"

"You'll what? Thought you wanted me to learn this shit."

"I should have just done this myself," John muttered.

"Done what yourself, this hunt?" Dean scoffed. "I'm sure that would have worked out real well with the concussion."

The demon they were exorcising spoke up. "Fighting again? Well isn't that just typical. Didn't used to be that way… you used to be a good little soldier, Dean, back when Sammy was around."

Dean glared. "Shut up."

The demon grinned. "Ooooh, I think I hit a nerve with that one. I just love doing that." He smiled flirtatiously at John. "Your son's cute when he's angry. Quite a chip off the old block, too -- aaaagh," the demon's taunts were interrupted by John slinging an ice bucket full of holy water at his face.

John glanced moodily across the abandoned warehouse at Dean. "Would you fucking finish it already?"

"I'm going as fast as I can, John," Dean said steadily. He'd stopped calling his father "Dad" a few months back, when their relationship had taken an extreme turn toward the professional and away from the familial. After Sammy had left. Dean silently cursed the demon for bringing up his brother's name.

"Seriously, Dean, fucking finish it already!" The demon mimicked. "Get me back to hell, already." He peered curiously at John. "I'm really surprised you didn't teach your boy all this exorcism crap years ago. We might not have to be sitting through these poor attempts at garbled Latin if Dean had some practice." John shot the demon a menacing look, which was ignored. "Anyway, from what I heard, Dean isn't really the Winchester with the mental gifts." Dean smirked to himself, shaking his head. This demon was working his last nerve. "That was more Sammy's domain… not that he's been very active lately."

That caught Dean's attention. "What?"

John shook his head. "Don't engage it, Dean -- that's what it wants."

Dean hesitated. "Come on, Dean," the demon whispered. "Ask me anything." Dean was silent, the Latin forgotten. "Your father hasn't let you contact Sam in months, is that right? And for what… so you have the privilege of accompanying him on his little revenge road trip?"

"Stay focused, Son," John warned.

"Don't tell me what to do," Dean said quietly, dangerously.

John cocked his head. "Boy, you sure as hell don't want to do this with me, not right now. This demon doesn't know shit, Dean. We're finishing this and moving on to someone who can tell us something worthwhile."

"News about your other son isn't worthwhile?" the demon asked. "You never did like Sammy very much, did you? You'd probably like him better now, actually. He isn't so talkative."

Now even John hesitated. "What the hell are you talking about?" Dean asked.

The demon smiled up at the two men. "Oh, it's nothing. Let's just get this thing over with." He smiled lasciviously at Dean again. "Come a little closer, honey. You've got a nice voice. It matches your ass."

Dean nearly charged the demon. "What the fuck do you know about Sam?"

The demon chuckled. "That's pretty funny, you needing to ask me for information about your brother. Daddy's had you under his thumb a long time, huh? Who can blame him, though, really? I wish I could have you under me…"

"That's enough!" John grunted, grabbing the book of Latin out of Dean's hands. "Exorciamus te…"

The demon looked pointedly at John. "When I get out, I'm looking up your kid, John. This one," he said, motioning to Dean. "We'll have so much fun, Dean. You, me, that pretty face of yours."

"What do you know about Sam?" Dean asked frantically. The demon was writhing in pain, a result of John's exorcism. "John, stop!" The Latin continued to flow. "Dad, please…" Dean looked on, defeated, as black smoke poured from the possessed man's lips.

Dean stormed from the warehouse as John knelt to check the host's vital signs. John shook his head wearily when he could detect no pulse. These recent demons were riding their hosts longer and harder. This one had been a real bastard. Steeling himself for the confrontation he knew would come, John exited the warehouse and went to the Impala to find Dean.

Dean was angrily packing his things in the car when he heard John approach. "I can't believe you just exorcised it like that."

"You were sloppy in there, Dean. I had to clean up your mess."

"My mess…" Dean repeated to himself as he slammed the trunk closed.

"What you did in there was stupid, but it was a good lesson," John said. "You need to learn how to keep your focus, no matter what a creature is saying to you. And demons? Well, they're about the worst, son. They'll bring up any dirt they have on you to get a reaction."

Dean faced his father. "Did you ever think that maybe I wouldn't have had such a strong reaction if we actually talked about Sam?"

John's eyes narrowed. "I don't want to get into this, Dean, not tonight. You need sleep."

Dean was struggling to keep his composure. "I have done everything you've asked of me these past few years." He looked pointedly at John. "Especially the last few months. But right now, I'm telling you -- I'm calling Sam in the morning."

"You don't think that's going to raise suspicions, Dean? Calling your brother after years of no contact?" John's voice had an edge to it. "You and I had an agreement. Don't you want to keep your brother safe?"

"Keep him safe?" Dean asked, incredulous. "Oh yeah, you've always been real concerned about that."

"What are you implying?"

Dean shut down. "Nothing. I'm just saying that a demon threatened Sam, and I think we should give him a heads up."

"You call him, you know what happens." John's statement seemed neutral on the surface, but it stirred up much deeper emotions in Dean.

"You won't walk," Dean said. "You need me now. You may have wanted to do this as a solo act, but it's a two man job now, and I'm in."

John was unmoving. "When you begged me to be a part of this, I had only one condition, and it still stands. If you want to go after the demon with me, you are not to contact Sam. I don't want him to be a part of this, Dean. I don't want him on their radar. And he doesn't want to be involved either. He made that choice when he left us."

"You didn't give him much of a choice."

John rolled his eyes. "I'm gonna pass out if I don't get some sleep. I'll meet you back at the hotel after you get rid of the body."

Dean sighed wearily as he watched his father's truck rumble away. The demon tonight was right -- it had touched a nerve by bringing up Sam. Dean couldn't believe how much time had gone by without a phone call, without a clandestine visit. Not a day went by that he didn't think of Sam in some way.

The worst of it had started about five months ago. Dean was about to go to New Orleans on a solo gig, but Dad had been acting strange -- secretive phone calls, unexplained disappearances. With some intense surveillance, Dean had caught Dad red-handed in the middle of the night, trying to slip a wad of hundred dollar bills into Dean's boot. Dad would never do that, not under normal circumstances. After some major pressure (and a couple of fists all around), Dad's secret came out: he was onto something big. Demon big. Mom's killer big. And Dean had insisted on coming with him.

Dad wasn't pleased. In fact, he'd been pissed. He'd given Dean a choice: Dean could branch out on his own, take the Impala and do some solo stuff, but stay away from John and hunting the demon. Or… Dean could come with John. Put the petty hunts aside and focus on killing the thing that had killed mom. Dad knew it was a demon now, and he actually had some clues as to its whereabouts. If Dean came along, though, John said he had to swear not to have any contact with Sam.

Dean had been torn. He wanted to hunt down the demon, badly. And he hadn't even really spoken to Sam in years. But the fact that his father had made that a part of the deal really burned him. What right did he have to dictate his communication with his own brother?

In the end, John had won out, and Dean had joined him. The resentment hadn't faded, though, and Dean had rebelled in little ways. Like calling Dad "John" or picking fights over minor issues. Tonight, however, Dean's turmoil had reached a breaking point.

"Dad doesn't have to know," Dean whispered to himself as he dialed Sam's number.

Thanksfor reading! Hope you enjoyed it... there's more to come. ----- AE