Pure
There are implications of child abuse in this chapter. Nothing explicit, but if you are sensitive on the subject; you might wanna skip it.
A/N: Special thanks to my beta, OnlyWishedYouKnew! And also reviews are most welcome; please let me know how I am doing.
Chapter 2 Dirty boy*
Dean woke up at the sound of the door. He turned to his side in a rush, but relieved seeing his brother sleeping next to him. It was Bobby, entering the room not so quietly to wake him up.
"Good morning sunshine!" he teased Dean.
Dean felt rested, not nearly enough; but he was not as exhausted as before he had fallen asleep… Crap! He had fallen asleep!
"What time is it?"
"It is breakfast time and there is food on the kitchen table?"
"Breakfast? I slept through the night? I should have continued the…the treatment."
"Don't worry. I talked to the healer, we are on schedule. Apparently Sam isn't gonna need the treatment as frequently."
"Thank God! I don't think I have enough space on my body to keep cutting at that rate."
"You go upstairs, freshen up and EAT something. I'll stay here and come get you at the smallest sign."
"Thanks Bobby."
When he got into the kitchen he saw the old lady sitting with her granddaughter. She was prettier than her pictures; laughing heartily at something on the small TV. Her laugh was relaxing; a weird thing, Dean was used to the dreary atmosphere in the house. The contrast between her white teeth and ebony skin was intriguing. Her eyes were glittering with joy. Life was overflowing from her. No wonder the photographs were under-representing her; it was impossible to capture all the liveliness in a still picture.
"Hey there!" Dean was going to make one of his signature moves on the young girl but the healer stopped him. She got up from her chair and caught Dean's bandaged arms. Without leaving her eyes on Dean, she said something in her language, apparently to her granddaughter who translated immediately:
"Why is that your arms are in this shape?"
"Nice meeting you too." Dean continued. But the seriousness of the looks on him stole his good mood. "What were you expecting lady? Feeding blood to a grown up man ain't a dance party."
The girl translated Dean's words to the healer. Dean realized the old lady did not like what she heard; she did not like it at all. First, her face sunk, then she started to yell so fast and loud that Dean had to take couple of steps back; she was scary when she was angry. And she kept yelling for a while… so Dean did not have a chance to understand what was going on when Bobby hurried into the kitchen.
"What the hell is going on here?" he asked. "Dean, for your own sake I hope you were not hitting on a Hoodoo priestess' granddaughter."
"You guys used wrong blood! That's what's going on." the girl replied with anger matching to her granny.
"What do you mean wrong blood? She did not mention any specific blood, the only thing your granny told us that we should use pure blood, without demon touch. And that's what we did." Dean replied; he did not like the attitude the women were giving him.
"Pure as in virgin you dumbass! Not some no demon touch nonsense. What the hell does no demon touch mean anyways?"
"Oh!" Dean was not expecting this one. Before he could ask some of the million questions filling his head, Dean found himself in the arms of the healer.
"What the hell?"
"Relax, she is going to figure out the damage you did on your brother." the girl answered.
Dean allowed the healer to lay himself down on the couch and waited anxiously while she was murmuring some nonsense ritual into his ear. He jerked with the sharp pain in his finger; the healer must have pricked it and now was rubbing it onto his forehead. He figured his finger was bleeding slightly, he could feel the wetness spreading on his temples.
"Hey! I am loosing enough blood already!"But the healer did not hear his protests, or she simply did not care.
Out of nowhere, his old memories flashed in Dean's mind. They started slowly at first but they gained an incredible speed in no time; became so fast and so bright that he felt nauseous. He could see all the girls he had slept with in his whole life, one after another… even those whom he had forgotten their existence. All the girls, in random motel rooms, in their beds, in their parents' beds, in their husbands' beds, in Impala, in bar toilets, in back streets… all his actions, the dirty actions, the group actions, the kinky actions… everything… every single girl whom he had shared any kind of sensual touch… Dean guessed the healer was somehow watching the same flashbacks. He knew she was going to be pissed; Dean was as far from being a virgin as a demon was from the heaven.
Before the flashback bombardment was over, Dean realized the old woman was murmuring some more mambo-jumbo into his ears. He felt as if something was pushing into his head, hard. Before he could release himself from the invisible grip, a new set of flashbacks started. These ones were not the reminiscence of his past actions per se; they were his fantasies, his daydreams. Some of them were fresh; some of them were from the past that Dean had long forgotten. At first, he followed them with a side of dirty pleasure mixed with tint of shame. But the flashbacks got darker and darker. The healer was slowly reaching to the ones Dean had hidden deeper. When she reached to a particular one, the one he had been conjuring up right after Sam had left for the collage; it was too much to share. Dean had not shared it even with himself for years, kept it deep down somewhere, and forced himself to forget its existence.
When his little brother had left -after everything he had done for him-, Dean had been so angry, felt so betrayed and lost that he had turned to fantasies to dull his anger. He was dreaming on following Sam to Stanford. In some dreams, he found his brother miserable, crying and begging for Dean to take him back. But in some others, he found an overjoyed Sam, no remorse of leaving his brother behind; screwing a cheerleader in his college room. In those dreams Dean got seriously pissed off. He bellowed with rage at his ungrateful brother for leaving his family only to fuck hot college chicks. The rest of the dream was a little bit different for each time, sometimes involving Dean beating the hell out of Sam, kicking him senselessly, breaking his nose, his ribs… but some dreams were involving Dean fucking his Sammy while the younger brother was still on top of the surprised cheerleader… fucking him to hurt him, to damage him, to make him pay for all Dean's sufferings… punishing him like Dean used to be punished.
Before Dean was over with the last flashback attack, he realized the priestess was pushing yet another door in his mind. When he figured it was the door to his older memories, to the scary nights when he was waiting awake in his bed, pretending to be asleep, pretending not to feel anything, sucking it up without a noise so that his baby brother would not wake up to witness his shame… He managed to stop the healer before the door was open and ran away from her. He was not going to re-live his childhood terrors again, and for sure he was not going to let anyone else watch them either. The healer's eyes were locked on his. She did not say anything, but Dean knew she was not happy about what she saw. Trying to wipe out the disturbing images from his mind he asked:
"How bad?"
The women talked to each other for a while; then the girl explained,
"It doesn't look good."
"What do you mean? If this virginity non-sense is such a big deal, how come she did skip it while giving us directions?"
"Cause she was not expecting that you could be such a dork to consider yourself 'pure', you arrogant prick!"
Dean felt stupid. How come he never thought about this? OK, he knew virginity and him were not the closest friends; but how come Bobby, Mr. know-it-all, never thought about this? Hello! witches and virgin blood, not the biggest secret in the world. Oh, how Dean hated witches!
"OK. I got that there is damage. What can we do now? Find a virgin?" he turned his eyes to the young girl and added with a shameless smile, "I do not assume you are a virgin, right?"
The girl gave him a very harsh look and translated his words to her granny. Dean figured that the girl translated all of his words when the healer smacked his head; harder than he expected from someone at her age.
"There is nothing you can do now. You cannot change the blood in the middle of the treatment. Or I should say the type of the blood; you can always use another womanizer."the girl explained the healer's response.
Dean suspected that the healer shared a little too much of his past with her granddaughter.
"But what's going to happen? We have to know." Bobby asked. After talking to the healer, the girl explained:
"We don't know for sure. Granny says his best chance is that he could be a very talented gigolo."
"That's not bad, not bad at all." Dean winked at Bobby. "Sammy finally gonna get some action. That's good. That's the power of Dean Winchester blood!" But his hope and his broad grin cut short by the rest of the explanation.
"And the worst case is that he might end up as a psychopath rapist who fucks anything he finds."
Dean and Bobby looked at each other in worry; this was something unexpected… weird even for them.
"Come on lady!" Are you telling me if I had not had some good time in the past, my brother would be a saint? But now, he will turn into a sex-maniac? Does this make any sense to you, seriously?"
"We do not know what's really gonna happen. It could be anything in between, could be a short-term thing or could change him forever. It all depends how much of your past leaked into him with your blood. One thing is certain though; we won't be here to find out." The girl explained while helping her granny to walk out.
"Wait a second! You cannot leave now; you gotta help us to fix this."
"You don't get it, do you?" the girl burst in anger, "My granny did one of the hardest, near-impossible spell for your brother, and you guys somehow managed to fuck things up. Now you are asking an old lady and a girl to stay together with a rapist time bomb. No fucking way! And even if we stay, there is nothing we can do. Granny needs at least two weeks to recover her strength back after the spell she pulled last night." After a deep breath, she continued with calmer voice, "I'll give you a call when she is ready, to check on you guys. But for now, we have to go." Before leaving the house she added, "I'm sorry for your brother… but I'd lock him up if I were you."
Dean could not stop them. She was right. Right now the last thing Dean needed was to be obliged to protect innocent people from his brother, who was apparently poisoned by his blood.
"Fuck this shit!" Dean yelled. "Fuck it, fuck it, fuck it!" He was really pissed off. It should have been a cosmic fucking joke that the exact moment he started to get some hope that the universe was back-stabbing him… again.
"Come on boy. We cannot quit now. Let's cross that bridge when we come to it. We don't know, maybe all you'll need to handle is a competitor in the bar stools, huh?" Bobby tried to lighten the mood.
"You're right" said Dean, not believing any of the words. "I'll check on Sammy." but before he left the room, Bobby stopped him.
"No, you are going to EAT now. Finish that glass of milk too. In case things do not go as we hope, I need someone strong by my side."
TBC…
* 6th track on Bad Company's 1986 album Dangerous Age