Title: Drawing Attention

Author: Fenikkusu Ai

Set + Theme: Set 2 + #11 Faith

Fandom: Supernatural

Characters: Alastair/Dean

Rating: M

Genre: Angst

Word Count: 1,214

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural.

The look of horror on Sam's face was expected when he emerged from the bathroom.

"Dean, you look terrible."

So much for any encouragement from his brother. "I didn't sleep well."

Sam's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "But, you just said you slept fine."

There. Sam had finally caught him in a lie. In spite of how much his brother cared about him, he was beginning to grow irritated under his brother's constant criticism. It was painful to bear considering what was in store for him in the future.

"I have other things on my mind." Dean tried to keep his voice even and miraculously succeeded.

Sam nodded, and Dean walked around him. He was in no mood for this now.

"Stay positive. We'll find something," Sam called after him.

Dean digested this. All right. Maybe Bobby really would find something. But, no matter what happened, Dean wouldn't go down without a fight. He owed himself that much. Even if his faith was in short supply.

Dean steeled himself as he shrugged back into his leather jacket and walked into the next room where he immediately saw the person he really didn't want to see: Ruby. It was as if she was waiting for him. She was casually leaning up against the wall; her stare as confrontational as usual. And, it looked like she had something on her mind. It dawned on him to turn away, but instead he intentionally approached her. Screw it. He wasn't the outsider here.

"You should be afraid, Dean." Ruby didn't clarify what she meant, but she didn't need to.

And, Dean was afraid. So afraid...

His tone was bitter acid. "So what? Are you going to tell Sam?"

The little bitch would. He knew it.

"It doesn't concern me." She casually tucked her fingers in the loopholes of her jeans and averted his gaze. "My question is why? You got out. Why would you want to put yourself back in the oven again?"

It was bad when a demon questioning his motivations, even though he couldn't answer the question himself. And if he didn't understand it, he wasn't going to make her understand either.

Dean decided to swallow his pride. She could be his only chance. "Is...there anything I can do?"

Ruby's face remained sober as Dean recieved the answer he had been dreading. "Not much. But, stranger things have happened."

Ruby's nonchalance irritated him, but what did she care for him? Also, she was a native of hell herself. He wanted very badly to hit her, to take out the frustation that was building inside him, but he knew that wouldn't go over well. For anyone.

"What are you guys talking about?"

Sam entered the room, and Dean noticed that Sam was on his guard. Even Dean knew the oddity of the both of them standing in the same vicinty. Willingly.

"Where we are going to eat breakfast," Ruby covered smoothly. "Right, Dean?"

Dean eyed her, but didn't correct her. Deception was second nature to Ruby after all. It's not as if he wanted to share what they were really talking about.

Dean soon found himself in a booth with a steaming cup of coffee in his hand. He didn't have much of an appetite, but could not protest thanks to Ruby's interference. He was already starting to yawn thanks to being up all night. Dead to the world in more ways than one, he had no other option but to listen to Sam and Ruby...chat.

It didn't take long for Dean to space out. Suddenly, there was a clink as the elderly waitress set steaming pancakes in front of him. When Dean's order arrrived, Dean's forehead was brushing the tabletop. He wanted so badly just to sleep.

"Dean, get your nose out of the maple syrup." Sam scolded.

Dean didn't laugh at his brother's comment and watched as Sam took a bite of his blueberry pancakes and chewed them as if they were broken glass. Ruby turned her eyes to her omelette. Dean decided to inspect his own plate. The fluffy golden pancakes were topped with whipped cream and slices of ripe crimson strawberries. A perfect plate of pancakes and he couldn't even enjoy them. Idly, Dean began to play with his food; swirling the red juice from the strawberries into the whipped cream. He watched white turn pink. The strawberries reminded him of blood.

Soon, the sound of the fork scraping against the plate was beginning to draw attention from the other customers.

Ruby looked up. "Don't play with your food. Be a good boy and eat, Dean."

"Yes. Be a good boy, Dean..."

Her words triggered the memory that lurked below the surface...

Dean felt a hand on his shoulder. Now, He was beginning to tremble. Alastair's touch was often accompanied by pain.

"Don't be too hard on yourself. You're getting better." Alastair's breath ghosted his ear. "I promise. I wouldn't lie to you."

Alastair's encouragment was a relief. Slowly, Dean let himself ease.

Two years ago, he endured Alastair shredding his flesh apart not to become one of the monsters he was, and now here Dean was tearing out the last shreds of his humanity for some sort of promotion. It was no different than executives stepping over each other to climb up the corporate ladder.

Dean disliked being alone here in the pit. It was terrifying in hell with only its fiends for company. Out of all the fiends, he had one friend. Dean now had one goal: to make him happy. Fucking up wasn't tolerated here. Without Alastair, he felt empty. He was vulnearable. He wanted to feel his touch. Hear his voice. Follow his instructions. Their relationship revolved around one simple equation. Alastair wanted a perfect student, and Dean wanted to become it. Dean needed him as much as Alastair wanted him. They were obsessed with each other and all the denizens in hell knew it.

Dean wondered what had broken inside him so long time ago. What inner weakness or flaw Alastair had exploited. Or, was he simply this weak all along?

For the sake of normalcy, it helped Dean to think that Alastair was his employer. For eternity.

The soul below him gurgled something, but Dean couldn't make out the words. His blade was still hovering over him; always ready to be used.

"Come on. Do something...really special. Original. I really want to know what sort of man you are. Inside and out."

Alastair tounged the contour of his ear. Dean jumped and continued working on the poor bastard. Alastair rarely had to repeat himself twice.

Dean would make him happy.

Another two years, and even Dean was starting to enjoy it.

"Uh, Dean?"

He was back at the restaurant again blinking at his brother and the demoness. Hell had disappeared.

"So, he's returned to real life." Ruby sounded amused.

Why did he keep doing that? Where did his mind go? Now, he was attracting stares by people that should mind their own damned business. Dean shriveled into his seat. He needed to get away.

"I'll be right back."

Dean could feel several pairs of eyes burning into him as he got up and walked towards the bathroom.

This was not going to be a good day.