A/N: Chapter title taken from Ah, Miss, by Stephen Sondheim (Sweeney Todd). Yes, I'm late with this. I apologize.

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural. This is for entertainment purposes only, not for profit.

Chapter 14 - retreat to the darkness

Another bowl of that horrible chicken water. A little more meat and vegetables in there this time. He was sick of it. Sick of eating that when all around him was the kind of food he really wanted to eat.

Dad, with that relieved look on his face. Pastor Jim. And Bobby.

Bobby, though…there was a vibration about him that Dean didn't quite recognize.

It didn't matter. None of it did.

Dean was good at hiding. Always had been, his whole life. It was easy. Easy to smile. Easy to pretend. He sat there in that sunlit kitchen surrounded by fools and he looked and acted the way they wanted him to look and act. He said the things they wanted to hear.

"I'm fine."

No, I'm not. Dad, please ---

"I feel better."

Get away from me. I'm not safe.

"Minnie" and the others crowded all around him.

We'll take what we need from them. Take it all, darling boy. Soon. Very soon now…

They stroked his skin, whispered into his ears.

We can travel the world. You'd like that, wouldn't you?

Dean leaned into their touch.

We'll never leave you. Not like your father does. We'll be with you always.

They filled him up with secret touches and slow lingering kisses and dark praise, and that small sane part of him was pushed down, fighting and cursing, even further beneath his skin.

Not time yet, pretty. Not yet. We'll tell you when it's time.

None of the others noticed a thing. Stupid meat.

He was still hungry.

An hour later Pastor Jim stepped onto the front driveway, away from the house. "Dean's asleep in bed."

John scowled as he looked at the blackened coin in his hand. Bobby leaned against his trunk, carefully watching John's reaction. "Sam?"

"I haven't seen him around, John."

"So what are you telling me, Singer? This could be reacting to negative spiritual residue or something."

"If that was true it would be black all the time. I'm telling you that Dean needs help. He's damaged somehow." Bobby huffed. "Caleb's coming in. Should be here in another two hours."

"And then what?"

Bobby shrugged. "We see how bad off Dean is. And we do what we can to correct it."

"He's my son, he's not an it." John said tightly. His right hand curled into a fist.

"All right, John. All right." Bobby stood up. "You wanna hit me? Come on. Hit me. Let's get this out of the way. Right damn now. You're feelin' sorry for yourself, is that it? Well, that's too damn bad, 'cause I don't think Dean has that kind of time. That stuff Sam said, it stung the hell outta you. Okay, I get it. Get it out of your system so we can deal with what's happening to Dean."

John didn't move. "Well?" Bobby grated out.

"We'll have to confine him. In that spare room upstairs," John said in a low tone. "Tie him down to the bed, make sure he can't hurt anywbody."

"Elias Bishop is supposed to email me back. Says he had a line on a survivor of Handmaiden poison," Pastor Jim said softly, as though he was concerned that Dean could overhear. "Wouldn't hurt to email him back. I also have access to some rituals and prayers that might work in this case. Couldn't hurt."

John nodded. "All right. Thanks, Jim. We better get started."

Dean stirred in his sleep. He lay curled on his side in the bedroom around the corner from the kitchen.

Sam came in through the back kitchen door. He smelled like blood and golden sunlight, sadness and spent rage. After the fight with Dad Sam went to the pond out back and sat for a while. And now he was back.

Dean was glad Sam came back.

"Minnie" hissed at Sam, but Sam couldn't see or hear her. He couldn't see the others, either. They pressed down on Dean like he was a precious thing, one that couldn't be allowed to get away. He couldn't even open his eyes.

"Minnie" wouldn't let him.

Sam pulled that wooden chair in the room over to the bed. He was tired. Tired and sore and hurting.

"Think I look bad, you oughta see Dad, huh? Well, you probably already have," Sam whispered softly.

"Minnie" kissed Dean's ear. It's just noise, dear. Meat makes noise. You know that. Don't listen to him.

"I tried, bro'. I did. Tried to kick Dad's ass. He walked away and I didn't, so I guess I wasn't very good at it." Sam sat there quiet and still for a moment, bruised, with his eyes blackened, his lip split.

We should feast on him now, "Albert" hissed, and she snarled as "Minnie" struck her upside the head.

Not now. Not yet.

Sam sighed. "What the hell kind of father wants his children to live this way, huh? You're his son, Dean. His eldest son." Sam leaned forward, and twined his fingers in Dean's right hand. Sam knew it was emo, knew Dean considered a gesture like that girly.

Dude, holding hands? Hell no. Get off me, you perv.

Sam didn't care.

Dean's strong fingers were warm and pliable. His chest rose and fell in a steady motion.

The last bit of sanity buried deep within Dean got a little stronger from Sam's touch.

"We shouldn't have to live like this. Going from state to state, never even finishing up a school year anywhere, for God's sake. I'm leaving when I turn eighteen. I want you to come with me. Doesn't matter where. Just as long as we can be somewhere safe. We can be brothers like Mom wanted us to be, like we were meant to be."

Sam, please…

"Without Dad, you know? I know you think I hate him sometimes. I don't. I just don't…just don't see the point. All this just for someone I don't even remember? I'm sorry, dude, I know you get mad whenever I say that, but it's true. I don't remember Mom like you and Dad do. I like to hear you talk about her. I like the way your face relaxes and your eyes light up. She must have been really something, Dean. I wish I could remember her. But I can't. I don't."

Sammy, I can hear you, but they won't let me talk to you…

"You're all I've got. You raised me, took care of me." Sam took a deep breath as he blinked back the tears in his eyes.

Gonna make me pretend, make me fake it until I can get the drop on you and Dad…

"See…I keep thinking that one of these days you're not gonna come home, Dean. One of these days you're gonna just disappear on me. Get yourself killed in some small town or a forest or someplace, die all lost and alone."

I don't wanna hurt you. I won't.

"And for what? Mom wouldn't want that, no matter what happened to her. I know you pretend I'm the smart one. I'm not. Not like you. I just don't see the point in all of this. Dad brought you back, but you're sick."

You gotta see this Sammy. You gotta. And then you have to get away from me…

"And…I'm afraid, Dean, afraid that you'll never get any better. I couldn't take that, you know. I couldn't…"

Look at me, Sam. Please, you got to. I'm not right.

Dean opened his eyes.

It's too soon, beauty. Too soon. You can't. You mustn't…

Sam sat there frozen for a moment. Dean stared at Sam, unblinking.

Dean's bright green eyes were light grey.

"Minnie" and the others drew back from Dean then. As he sat up he shrugged them off as if they were lighter than air.

"D-Dean?" Sam stammered. He backed up. The chair hit the floor as he knocked it over. Sam never heard it.

"Hey, Sammy."

"Dude, what ---"

"Don't be afraid of me, Sam. I'm okay. It's just that…I'm so damned hungry…"

Next post will be Sunday.