Sins of the Father. A Supernatural Fan Fic
Author: Steffykaye
Setting: two years after the pilot
Rating: PG-13/R
Disclaimer: The characters of John, Dean, and Sam Winchester are not my creations.
Chapter 2 - Duty and Illusions
Dean raced towards his brother's prone form. The conversation he had just finished with his father was running through his mind.
"Keep him safe, Dean. I have to be able to depend on you."
Dean knelt over his brother and shook him in a mixture of fear and anger.
"Don't you dare die on me, Sammy. Not when Dad is finally so close to being able to save you."
Slowly Sam returned to consciousness. He was uncertain how he had gotten to the floor, he just knew that he had been lost in the dark. Ever since his dream the night before, he had felt the darkness pressing in on his consciousness, it's greedy fingers prying at the frayed edges of his sanity. He opened his eyes to see his brother, pale and obviously hurt, kneeling over him. Although touched by the concern in his brother's eyes, he could not forget those pictures. The ones that had sent him into the abyss. The ones that had proven he had never really been free. The need for answers clawed at him. It was razor sharp and could no longer be denied. He reached behind him, pulled the laptop from the bed and thrust it in Dean's face, wincing as his brother instinctively raised his arm as if to block a blow. Even now after willlingly putting himself in danger to save him, Dean did not trust him. The pain of that had him speaking more sharply than he had intended. "You want to tell me what this is about, or do I walk out on this whole thing right now?"
Dean's eyes widened in shock and his mind raced. The secrets belonged to their father. They were not Dean's to share, but it looked like he had no choice. He resigned himself to being the one that shattered Sam's illusions, effectively destroying that tenuous relationship he had worked so hard to build. He knew that he would need all the strength he had acquired since he had been hunting to be able to deal with this new problem. He also knew that there was no way he could do it injured. He might say too much if he had to split his attention between his pain and the careful choosing of his words. He had to take care of his shoulder now. Normally he would ask Sam for help, but he didn't trust that look in his brother's eye.
"All right, you want to know all the dark Winchester secrets, I'll tell you. But give me a minute, Sammy, there's something I have to take care of first." Dean ignored his brother's incredulous look and walked into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. Reaching over, he turned on the shower full blast. He didn't want Sam to hear him if he screamed out. He knew his brother thought he was avoiding the issue in true Winchester form, but he had to deal with the shoulder now. If he let it go much longer he would be out of commission for several days, something his hunter instincts would never allow to happen. He also knew that taking care of it was not as easy as it looked in "Lethal Weapon."
Dean reached into his bag and pulled out a pill bottle. Shaking two 30 mg morphine tablets into his hand, he dry swallowed them. He shook his head, thinking as he did so often that this life was not without it's perks. What other job could you have where morphine was something that you popped like aspirin? Briefly his mind went back to the pharmacist whose life they had saved a year ago and he thanked her for the prescription. Not that he had a problem with stealing the drugs they needed, but he was getting tired of seeing the inside of a jail cell. Normally, he would give the drugs a chance to dull the sharp edge of his pain, but he knew that Sam was waiting. Steeling himself, Dean closed his eyes, turned and slammed his back into the wall, popping his shoulder back into place. The bright, hot, flare of agony exploded in his head, causing him to cry out and the room to go dark. No matter how often he had to do that, he never fully remembered just how excruciating it was. He sagged to the floor, suddenly very tired of having to be strong and dependable. He thought that Sam and Dad sometimes forgot that he was not a hero, he was just a man. A man who still harbored the frightened child inside. Duty, he thought bitterly, it was the word that defined him. It was also the word that had trapped him into a life he had not chosen. His duty as a son, as the older brother, had made him into what he was today. A lonely drifter who had seen way too much evil and not nearly enough good.
Dean called upon all of his training, and breathing slowly, he pushed the pain down until the room came back into focus. He stood up, knowing that no matter how he felt about the accident of birth which made him the protector instead of the victim, he would do what needed to be done. He turned off the shower and gripped the edge of the sink, staring into the mirror to try and detect any trace of anguish that remained. He had learned quickly that Sam was more observant than Dad had ever been, he saw through him way too easily. And even though he was distracted now, Dean did not want to risk that kind of exposure. Satisfied that the nonchalant mask was back in place, he opened the door.
Dean swaggered back into the main room. He forced himself to smile at his brother. "When nature calls, man, you just have to answer."
"Dean, this is not the time for jokes. I knew Dad thought I didn't have what it took to be a hunter, but he didn't even trust me to be able to live a normal life on my own." Pain crossed his face as he realized just how much he had messed up his 'normal' life. "Maybe he was right, maybe I really am so pathetic that I need a keeper."
"Can the 'poor me' crap." Dean's angry gaze rested steadily on his brother's face. "If you're as smart as everyone thinks, you know that's not what this was about. If Dad had really thought that, he would not have let you go in the first place."
"So, I am supposed to believe that this was some sort of twisted, paternal love thing? The man never loved me, he always blamed me for Mom's death." Sam got up and went to window, peering out into the darkness. "I got so sick of him watching me, waiting for me to make one wrong move. I had to get away. Now I find out that even after I left he didn't trust me."
Dean's hand fisted at his side. To stop himself from plowing it into his brother's face, he got up and started pacing the room. "Listen, I have taken a lot of crap from you because I know how badly you were hurt when Jess died, but if I ever hear you talk about Dad like that again, I swear I will rip you to pieces. Everything that he did was because of you. From the moment we found out you were going to be a boy, his whole life revolved around protecting you. To save you like he couldn't save Mark."
"Uncle Mark?" Sam lifted his eyes and stared at his brother in confusion. "He died of cancer when Dad was 20. There was no way Dad could have saved him."
"You're wrong about that Sammy." At Sam's questioning look, Dean gitted his teeth and reluctantly added, "Dad knew what really killed Mark."
Sam motioned for Dean to continue, but his brother's gaze was firmly fixed on the floor as he paced. Finally Sam vocalized the question, "What killed him, Dean, and how could Dad have stopped it?"
Dean just looked at his brother. He did not want to get into this with Sam. His reluctance was evident in the set of his face. He knew that Sam's guilt ate at him every time Dean got hurt because of him. Even though it sickened him to do it, he played on that fear, trying one last time to protect the secrets of the father who had left him. He lowered himself to the chair and leaning his head back looked up at his brother.
"Any way we can not do this now, Sam? I'm in pain here, someone thought he would be smart and lock the door before he passed out." Dean closed his eyes, he couldn't deal with that bright flash of hurt that flared in Sam's eyes. The silence stretched on, bringing him close to the breaking point. He opened his eyes to see Sam just staring at him, waiting for answers.
Dean sighed he was tired of fighting his father's battles and of hurting his brother in the process. "Fine. You want answers, you're going to get them. Just don't blame me when you can't handle it." Again, unable to stay still, he pushed up from the chair and resumed his pacing. "Mark didn't die of cancer. He died by the hand of the same thing that has been killing second born Winchester sons for centuries." Dean turned to look at his brother, trying to gauge his reaction. For once, it was Sam's eyes that were shuttered and expressionless.
"We don't have much information on what this thing is. Grandma burned most of Grandpa's notes when he died while she was pregnant with Mark. For years, Dad was unable to explain why his father became so paranoid after they learned that Mark was on the way. And when Grandpa died, he was thrust into the role of taking care of both his mother and little brother." Dean stopped his monologue, staggered as he realized how closely his life had mimicked his father's. Shaking his head, he continued.
"After Mark's death, Dad found a journal that Grandpa had hidden. In it, Grandpa talked of an ancient curse against his family." Dean grinned slightly. "Some sort of woman scorned thing. Even way back then, the chicks knew that once you had a Winchester man, nothing else comes close." He glanced at Sam, hoping to see some reaction. He shrugged as he was confronted with those same expressionless eyes. The only evidence Sam gave of the tortured thoughts running through his head was the vein throbbing in his jaw. Dean was grateful for the restraint Sam was showing, it made things easier on him.
"Anyway, once Dad knew you were going to be a boy, he knew that he had to protect you. He spent the whole nine months researching curses and protection spells. It worked too. You lived through the first attack, but not without a price. In it's anger, the thing took Mom instead. After that, Dad swore that he would never let it have you. That's why he never let you out of his sight, and that's why he sent me to check up on you so often after you went away."
Dean paused again, desperately hoping that Sam would not press the issue of Jessica's death. The hope died though when Sam finally looked up. "So why did it take Jess? Why didn't it kill me that time?"
He couldn't deal with it. He felt the guilt and self-loathing wash over him in bitter waves. How did he tell Sam what he had done the night that Jessica had died?
"I was only doing my duty. Dad told me to protect you at all costs. I knew how much you loved Jessica, but the charm was not strong enough to save both of you. I made the choice. Even knowing what would happen, I made the choice and then lurked in the shadows, waiting around to pick up the broken pieces of the life I had just saved."