Sorry for the delay in posting. My computer is in the shop so I am now sharing a computer with a gaming addict. Anyway, here is the last chapter in this story. The next installment has already been started. As you know, most of my fics are somewhat AU. I mainly just write what my friends request. I hope this story was everything you wanted. If not tune into the nest story in the series.
John started awake and glanced around; looking for what had pulled him out of what passed for deep sleep for hunters. Nothing seemed out of place. Except for the light under the bathroom door. Moving closer, he heard it. The retching. Turning the knob, he saw his eldest son sitting back against the tub, reaching for mouthwash.
"You ok in here?"
Dean started at the unexpected voice.
"Sure. Sorry I woke you. I'm usually pretty quiet."
John sat beside his son and cocked his head to the side.
"Usually? How often does this happen?"
"Every…night or so. I used to wake Bobby, but now I'm quieter."
John sniffed and sighed. This had to stop.
"Tequila and bourbon, huh?"
"They taste so much worse coming up than they did going down."
John snorted at the comment. It was so Dean that he almost laughed aloud.
"So, this drinking, it happens all the time?"
"Pretty much. Bobby and Sam won't let me hunt so I found a new hobby."
"Yeah, this new hobby have anything to do with those nightmares Bobby was telling me about?"
Dean buried his head in his hands and sighed. Why couldn't they just leave him alone?
"What nightmares? I sleep fine."
"So that's why you're hunched over the toilet at 2:18 am? Because you sleep fine?"
"Guess so."
"Dean don't do this to yourself. Let us in. You don't have to do this alone, son."
"You guys don't need this. It's too much. Just leave it alone."
John looked at his son and sighed. Dean had lost even more weight and if the dark bruises under his eyes were any indication, he had lost more sleep as well.
"I will not watch you destroy yourself."
"Too late for that shit."
"Hey! Stop with the attitude dude. You're angry, I get that. You have every right to be. But not like this. Just tell me you're pissed at me, kid."
"I'm not angry with you!"
"Then who?"
"Me! I'm pissed as hell that I let you guys find out. I'm so fucking angry that I didn't fight back. I'm not as strong as you think I am. I'm weak and useless and pathetic…"
The tirade was cut off by a sharp smack to the back of his head.
"You're none of those things. You're my son and Sam's brother. You're brilliant, funny, and so damn much like you mother it amazes me sometimes. And you Dean Winchester are the strongest person I know. And if you ever doubt that again I'll aim lower that your head and one smack won't nearly cover it."
Dean launched himself at his father and melted into the embrace.
"I just wanted it to stop, Daddy!"
John Winchester knew then that a heart could break more that once, because his did. Dean hadn't called him Daddy since he was five years old. Since his childhood was ripped away.
"Please don't be angry with me. I'm so sorry. You said take care of Sam."
"You always have, son. You always take care of everybody. And you do it so well that we never noticed when you weren't alright. I'm sorry you thought you always had to take on the world alone. I'm sorry I never told you to watch out for yourself. And I'm so fucking sorry I made you think so little of yourself. Dean I love you so damn much, son. After your mother died, you were the only thing that kept me going. I know I put so much on you and you never complained, not once. I messed up."
Dean burrowed into his father's chest and cried. He didn't care if his dad got angry with him, it hurt.
Bobby slipped back into his bedroom, sat on the side of his bed, and poured himself a shot of his old rotgut.
"Damn Winchesters!."
