Impurities

Chapter 4- On My Watch

A/N: This story contains adult content, incest, non-con, child abuse and quite a bit John W bashing.

Season 5, Episode 16: Dark Side of the Moon

DEAN: … "You ran away on my watch. I looked everywhere for you. I thought you were dead. And when Dad came home…"

"I'm gonna ask one more time Dean. And you're gonna answer me straight! Why did he leave?"

Dean did not know what to say. It had been almost a week that Sam was lost. He had been constantly searching, without any break. He had hoped that his father would somehow find his brother when he returned from the hunt. But it had been two days after he had joined the search but they still did not have any clue. And as if it was not enough, now John was drunk… How was Dean going to explain that his little brother wanted to leave this life; he was fed up with moving, fed up with fighting, fed up with his father. He wanted to run away even if it was just for a little while and had asked Dean to join him. He wanted to teach John a lesson that they were not his obedient little soldiers to carry around whenever he wants. That they have their own lives, schools which require staying in one place at least for a semester. That they had a limit and enough was enough.

"He wanted to have a vacation sir. And I said we have to wait for your return. He didn't talk to me afterward, so…"

That was all he could say; he was not going to risk pissing off the drunken hunter right now. He was almost certain that his father did not believe him, but did not show any sign of disbelief; simply kept drinking.

On the other hand, Dean was burning with curiosity. Why on earth did Sam want to leave so bad? At first, he was sure that it was Sam's usual adolescence anger management problem. But, it was getting more and more disturbing every passing day that Sam stayed missing. Had he been… No, no… There was no way. Dean had never left them alone when John was drinking and always checked for the signs. If it had happened, he would have known. But, what if… No, no it was not the time to dwell on such doubts. Sam was an angry teenager and just wanted to behave like one; like those carefree, selfish, spoiled, 'everybody is going to be sick with worry and finally understand my real value' kind of teenagers.

"You wanna tell me something boy?"

"No, sir."

No, Dean did not want to mention his doubts. Did not want to think the other kind of teenagers that he had seen in the dark corners of every city they visited. The ones that were running away from the horrors of their own household -only to find a worse hell on the streets. No, no… Sam would have told Dean. Of course he would. He knew that Dean would protect him. He knew that he could trust his big brother. But… There was that small but; that tiny, little pestering doubt. What if that fight was Sam's way of telling. What if his brother could not bring himself to describe the truth but had tried desperately to reach him in the only way he could?

'Why do you always take his side Dean?'

'He's crazy Dean, you know that.'

'We can take care of each other, hell you are taking care of us since forever.'

'Why won't you listen to me? For once!'

'Please, Dean, please…'

Fuck! He had not heard the possible meanings underlying these words back then. But now, his father drinking right in front of him, the smell of whisky filling the room, the bloodshot eyes staring at him… all of those words meant something other than saucy remarks of a pissed off, spoiled teenager. Something dreadful. God, no! It was not possible. They had that silent agreement with his father; as long as Dean was complied, John was not supposed to touch Sammy. Although they had never spoken on it, he was sure they had that agreement. Yet, the uncertainty was killing Dean.

"Sir…"

"What?" John sounded almost broken, lost in the bottom of his bottle.

"Sir… You…" Damn, it was hard to ask out loud. "Dad, you didn't touch him, right?"

John slowly raised his eyes to his eldest, but did not answer.

"Dad, please. I gotta know for sure. You didn't, right? Please, dad; please... Tell me you didn't."

Dean could not live with himself if his brother was going through that under his nose.

"You fucking bastard!" John's backhand found his place on Dean's cheek. It came so fast that Dean could not find time to take his guard.

"You think I don't know that you're fucking around when he went missing?"

Dean did not know that his father knew what he was doing; but it was not at all surprising. John was a hunter, a darn good one searching for his missing son; of course he would find out about that incident.

"And now, trying to put the blame on me, huh? Your brother might be dead for all we know. Because you can't keep your cock in your pants long enough. And now you blaming me?"

Dean knew that it was his fault that Sam was missing. The kid was his responsibility and he had left him alone at home when Sam needed him the most. He went to fuck some stupid girl, to channel his frustration into something pleasurable. He was away only for two hours, but that was all it took for Sam to be lost from the face of the earth. Dean knew his crime. But his father still did not answer the question eating him.

"Please, dad. Please tell me you weren't-"

John's answer came in form of a fist and left its mark on Dean's cheekbone. Without losing anytime, the second one hit the boy's stomach, forcing the breath out of him.

"You fuck around instead of taking care of your baby brother and then…" He was so angry that it was difficult finding the words to continue. "You son of a bitch! How long were you gone? How long you left him alone to bang that bitch? Huh! How many times I trusted you with his life and you left him alone to stick your dick in any two dollar whore you found? You fucking slut!" John's fists were raining onto his eldest almost at the same speed with his curses.

"Dad, please…"

But John's hearing was blocked by the fury and the alcohol he had been consuming. The blows kept coming and Dean –except from turning into a ball- did nothing to protect himself. He deserved this punishment and was going to take it like a man. Hell, he deserved worse. It had been a week, what would Sammy do for a whole week? What if someone had tried to harm him? What if they had succeeded?

"You good for nothing bastard! That's the reason you're asking me this, right? You know you're not even a good fuck anymore! Bitching, complaining, resisting, fighting every fucking time. You try to push me toward your little brother, huh? Is that it? "

"No, sir. God, no! I'll be good. Please. I'm trying to be good. I'll do better."

"We'll see about that." He raised the boy's head to his crotch and continued, "Show me how much you like it Dean. Show me how much you want daddy. Show me."

Dean knew the drill. He freed his father's cock from his jeans and took it in his mouth without losing any time. He had to work hard to get it hard. John had drunk too much today; it was always hard to get it up and even harder to reach to the finish line. But Dean's sole experience on giving head was based exactly on drunk erection; he knew exactly what he should do, how to swallow, how to hold, how to tongue, how to swirl… And it was working. He could hear John's moaning while the huge hands covering his head.

"You're such a fucking cock sucker boy, such sweet mouth. As long as you keep playing like this, why 'd I turn to someone else? I haven't touched him; no intentions doing it as long as… God! So fucking good! Take it all in. I know you can Dean. Come on, I know you want it. Show me, how much you want it, take it deep, take it all. Fuck! Such mouth! Like this, yes!"

Dean tried his best to finish it off, but John was not in the same state of mind. He took his prick out of the boy's mouth and watched Dean. The saliva was running down from the young hunter's chin, mixing with his blood thanks to the earlier blows on his face. John's –now hard- cock was covered with blood too.

"Ride me." he did not need to elaborate. He just lay down on the floor and waited for his son to get rid of his clothing. "Come here."

When Dean got close enough, his father shoved his hand into the bloody mouth to cover it with the slick spit/blood mixture and without any other preparations stuck two fingers into the boy's ass all the way in. Dean was grateful to, at least, have that. He was expecting worse; he deserved worse. After a short finger fuck, John took his fingers back, not minding where his nails scratching. Dean did not have to ask, he sat on him slowly till his father pushed him down to his balls.

"I swear you're tight as a fucking virgin! How you managing this? All that slutting around and still tight as a fucking duck's ass?"

As if Dean could not feel how tight he was. He was splitting into two with the pressure, without the proper preparations. How come John was expecting him to be ready every time? It was not like they were doing it that often; every other month was not supposed to do any help. Was he actually thinking that Dean was doing with other men too?

He kept riding on the older guy; tried his best too. But, he was too dry to maneuver and he could not keep the thing hard inside him just by the up-down motion. Shit! Apparently his father had drunk even more than he had thought. Very soon it became impossible to keep the limp thing inside his hole.

John's fury was massive. He got so angry with the frustration that he threw his son over; yelling all the humiliating words known to men while kicking mercilessly. Dean now was scared; for his life scared. He knew his dad had anger issues when he was drunk; but he had never witnessed the drunk and 'can't get it up' fury before. He turned himself to a ball again and waited for the anger to pass. Suddenly, the kicking stopped. He hoped that the liquor finally took over and the older hunter passed out. But the metal grabbing his wrists proved otherwise. John was chaining him with the silver handcuffs that they used on monsters. He did his best to stop begging, knowing it would only anger his father more -if it was even possible- and tried to comply when John was dragging him to the bathroom.

"Dad, what you doing?" Dean could not help asking when the older guy grasped his, unfortunately hard, cock.

"You're trying to mock me, son?" He answered, pulling the member hard, really hard. "You're trying to prove that you're a better man than your father?"

"Dad, please… Sir... Please." Was it even possible to explain to the drunk -and furious- man the male physiology and the role of the prostate? That Dean would give anything not to feel any pleasure of their actions. That he himself hated being aroused by his own father's abuse. But there were no words that could reach the hunter fixing his son's cuffed hands to the pipes on the top of the bathroom wall.

"You prefer fucking others I see. And come home too tired to please your old man, is that it? You use all your allure, your tricks on strangers. I should just cut your dick!"

He would not, would he?

"Dad, please dad. I'll try better. I promise, sir. Please. Let me try again, please." But he could not continue the conversation when John's iron grip on his dick and balls became the worst pain he had known. He only could manage screaming in agony. His dick was still probing with pain even after the hunter let it go. But he could at least breathe now. And his cock finally got the memo and started losing its shape.

"Oh, you aren't gonna get it down, now that I started to enjoy playing with it. Keep it up."

"Sir… I'm sorry sir… I just can't."

Dean was not lying. With the amount of pain he went through there was no way he could get it up anytime soon. But John was a stubborn guy, even when he was drunk. He just shoved his fingers in the boy's ass and found the little node that is responsible for the hardness he was enjoying before. And his cock proved that Dean was wrong. To his sheer surprise he realized that he was getting hard again; and it did not miss from his attention that his dad was also getting aroused. The member, which had been practically like jello while fucking his son moments ago, now became as hard as it could. He enjoyed inducing pain more than fucking! Gotta be Dean's lucky day.

"Do you think it is a good idea Dean? Let's get rid of this thing permanently, huh?" He asked while pushing his nails in the very sensitive flesh.

"No, sir. I'm begging you please."

"But it is too distracting for you Dean, don't you think? I mean look what happened. If you weren't following your dick blindly, Sammy'd be here with us. Safe! And you wouldn't be too tired to do your job." John was explaining very calmly while dragging his nails over the length of the prick, leaving a blood trail behind.

Dean was trying to free himself from the bindings, to protect his agonizing organ; hopelessly fluttering and writhing. But he was completely at the mercy of his father's whim.

"Sir, please. Please no…. Please…"

He lost track of time, had no idea how long his dad kept torturing his dick till it became physiologically impossible for him to get it up even with the heavy pressure applied in his ass. Only after that John let the pained organ hang bloody and claimed his son's ass. It took him long time to finish; but Dean did not mind. As long as the mind crashing pain on his dick was gone, he was not going to complain about anything. He could wait till John was done. He would fall sleep after he cum and finally leave Dean alone. So, he received the brutal thrusts without complaining, without resisting; knowing it would be over soon.

XXX

Dean woke up covered with cold sweat. It was a first that he woke up from a nightmare without screaming or sobbing. He caught Sam's eyes anchored on him.

"Sam? You're staring at me."

"You looked disturbed. Was trying to decide waking you up. Nightmare?"

"No, I was in striptease heaven, trying to choose a girl for the lap dance."

"It's a mystery how you could manage to hustle people. You suck at lying, man."

"Hey! You only catch it because I taught you everything about lying." And he changed the subject "Any leads?"

"Not yet. But we will find it Dean. Don't worry."

"Do you think he was telling the truth Sammy?"

"About what?"

"That he had the answers."

"I don't know man. Marids are not known by their love for humanity, so I doubt that he'd want to help us. But it's a possibility. In the lore it says that they can tap into the conversation between angels and the heaven. He might know some stuff that no one is telling us; but it doesn't mean that he'd tell us the truth."

"Yeah, I know." Dean fell deep in his thoughts then. He was not sure that he wanted to know the divine plans. For some reason he could sense that he would regret learning them.

XXX

They tried every available source they could find, every hunter they knew... But nothing, nothing came out.

"It's a fucking ancient son of a bitch; no one is alive to know anything!" Dean was angry. He had less than a day left and they had absolutely zero information on hand. "I swear it's like waiting for those hell hounds again."

"We'll find it Dean. You just rest a bit." Sam tried to sound hopeful. "I'm gonna try the university library." He gave the 'take care of him' look to Bobby and left the room. He knew the library was not going to give him anything new, he had tried it before. But he needed to be away from Dean to reach his source, the last resort. He had tried everything available. He had even tried to call Anna and Castiel; but heaven was not in a caring mood apparently. So, he had only one option left.

He stopped at the first paid phone on his sight and dial the number he knew by heart.

"Sam?" Ruby sounded surprised and happy.

"Ruby, I need information and I need it fast."

"Oh I'm good thanks for asking. It's been more than a month and you can't even-"

"I don't have time for the whining, Ruby. I'm serious." And Sam told their problem with the Marid.

"I'm sorry, Sam; but I don't know how."

"But you can find it. I know you can. Please Ruby. I'm begging you."

"I'll try my best. But you try to answer your phone this time."

"I will." He added before closing the phone, "Thanks."

Sam knew that Dean would go ballistic if he knew his brother asked help from a demon; especially the one Dean hated the most. Yeah, Sam was sure Dean hated Ruby even more than Lilith. He would not trust the solution coming from Ruby either. But Sam could not live with himself if he did not tried every possible way to save his brother from this stupid Marid. He lived without his brother longer than he could endure and did not want to suffer the same torture again. He knew Dean would kill him if he said it out loud, but he would sell his soul without a blink if there was a snowball's chance to save his brother. He had no hope of ending up in heaven anyway. He probably was destined to hell even before raping his own brother, thanks to all the demon blood he was savoring last year. So, by selling his soul he was not going to end up somewhere worse… No need to dwell on these false hopes though; there was no demon stupid enough to come close to Sam Winchester to seal a deal. So, Ruby was the only hope.

XXX

Of course Ruby found the spell. She had more resources than Sam could even imagine. Sam even could manage to meet her without raising any suspicion to get the information and the -absurd is the only way to describe- ingredients. It was an ancient and strangely simple spell. Sam was not sure if Dean or Bobby suspected how he could find and prepared the spell; but neither of them said anything.

The Marid showed up in the same manner he did previously; blue lightening and clouds. He looked at –more like the blue essence concentrated around- the prepared unbinding spell.

"Nicely done. You guys are not bad for a human. So sad that you will perish in a war neither of you wanna be a part of."

"What do you mean?" Dean could not help but ask.

"Dean, the warrior of heaven! The chosen one! The one saved from the pit. But you don't know why the angels saved you, do you? But, my friend, as you people nicely put, 'Ignorance is the bliss'. So true, especially in your case."

"You are not gonna tell me, are you?"

The Marid came closer, surrounding Dean; whispered into his ears:

"I'm gonna tell you only one thing. Enjoy your brother's company while you can. And know that he loves you, more than you give him credit for." And added after a short pause, "And in more ways than you think. But he loves you nevertheless."

"What? What does it even mean?"

But the Marid left him.

"So long, boys. I hope we will never see each other." And just like that, he was gone.

"Dean, what did he tell you?" Sam was curious.

"That you love me."

"What?" asked Bob and Sam in unison.

"I'm gonna miss the guy, you know. I kinda liked him."

"What? Dean!"

"What do you want me to say, that's all he said. Anyways, I really didn't want to listen to another destiny crap which we probably can never be sure if it is the truth." And he added with a teasing smile, "And to hear that you being a chick is approved even by the creature-land is, well, how can I say it… amusing."

"Jerk!"

"Bitch!"

"Idjits!"

They had sent the Marid back and that was the only important thing for Sam. He could not care less for the divine plans right now. And he was really happy that he had not craved for Ruby's blood when he had gotten closer to her. It gave Sam hope. Maybe the Marid was wrong after all. Maybe he was free from it. Maybe it was no longer a part of him.

"What Sammy, no chick-flick love moments now?"

"Oh, just wait till I leave before you two start serenading."

"Come on Bobby, at least join us for a beer."

"I'm driving boys; you two spill some for me."

After Bobby left, Sam lay down on the bed next to his brother. Dean was drinking beer and watching TV as if there was no apocalypse coming. Sam watched his brother. He looked relaxed, laughing over the stupid jokes on the TV. His eyes finally got their glitter, which Sam missed so fucking much, back. Dean was happy again. He was lying next to him, content and happy; and alive after a deal with a very strong djinn.

Dean caught his brother's eyes on him.

"Sam?"

"Yes."

"Why are you staring at me dude?"

"Cut the attitude Dean. Do I need to remind you that I saved your sorry ass? Less than an hour ego."

"You did bro. Thanks… But I'm not gonna hug you or anything, love bird." Dean kept mocking, "I know it's breaking your soft heart, but-"

"Oh, don't flatter yourself."

"Come on dude, I'm irresistible."

And he was… irresistible. But Sam held his tongue. There was no way in hell he could say it out loud. That he was dying to feel his brother touch, his warmth. That his scent was reminding him some very primal pleasures. That he was dying to taste that bead of sweat running down from his temple. That he wanted to see if he still tasted the same or it had all been due to the healer's spell. Somehow he was sure that if he tasted his brother's skin, he would feel the same pleasure. The scent was the same, so why would the taste be different, right? Not that Sam would ever try to do anything like that. He would never touch his brother like that. Never, again. But, god damn, he was truly, utterly irresistible.

TBC…

A/N: I know this chapter was a bit more graphic than the rest, but I believe the reference to Flagstaff in the canon implied the worst, between all the pre-series references.

And always, reviews make me happy; even the critical ones. Let me know if you like/hate something, if there is inconsistency etc etc...