Big My Secret
Chapter 2 – All Roads Lead Back to Me.
A/N: This is my take on what happens when Dean returns from Hell at the start of Season 4. The story takes place shortly after Dean and Bobby show up at Sam's motel room.
The title comes from a song from the soundtrack of the movie 'The Piano'. No copyright infringement intended.
I don't own anything related to Supernatural. All I can claim are the errors, grammatical or otherwise.
Thank you to all the reviewers, followers and readers.
This fic is for entertainment purposes only. Enjoy.
Dean shot out of the claustrophobic motel room leaving a stunned Sam and Bobby in his wake. He pushed the glass door leading to the outside world and frantically inhaled a lungful of earth air to replace the stench of hellfire which had invaded his nostrils. Sam ran after him but Dean ignored his brother's pleas to stop. One thought kept slamming into his brain. All roads lead back to me, my little pup.
Dean forged onwards and avoided the stares of the passer-by's. He felt like their eyes could bore through him and see who he was and what he had done. A troubling suspicion grew in Dean's mind. What if these weren't humans but demons waiting to jump him and drag him back to hell or souls he had tortured biding their time until they could get their revenge? Dean's chest constricted and he couldn't get enough air into his lungs because if he was right, he was surrounded and there was nowhere to hide, nowhere to run.
Dean quickened his steps. Between desperate gasps he searched his jacket for a knife or a weapon or holy water, anything that could give him a semblance of protection. Just then, Sam caught up to Dean, gripped his arm and spun him around, questioning him on what was wrong. Instinctively Dean pawed at Sam, hoping his brother would have what he was urgently looking for. He pulled Sam closer, hands moving wildly over his brother's form and that's when he smelled it, again. The odour Dean hadn't been able to pinpoint when she opened the door to his brother's motel room. The stench he hadn't recognized until now because everything smelled different in the pit. But there was no mistaking it; it was demon and it was wrapped all over Sammy just like that bitch must have been.
Dean let go of his brother, his eyes widening in disbelief and shock, certain now of Sam's betrayal. Told ya not the trust Sammy boy. The terrified hunter stumbled backwards as he jerked his arms out of his brother's grip. Dean's mind was reeling; everything he thought he knew was upside down and inside out. He didn't know who to trust or if he could trust his own instincts. How could he not have known about that bitch as soon as he stepped into that motel room?
Dean felt trapped. Everything and everyone was closing in on him, bringing him closer to getting back to the place he dreaded and so he turned and ran. He ran blindly and without thinking. He ran past stunned faces and cursing drivers, past shops and homes, through intersections and red lights. He tried to run away from the reek of rotting flesh and the taste of warm blood and innards, from the odour of burning skin and the sensation of razor blades and claws tearing out tissue. Away from the hopelessness and isolation and aloneness, away from never knowing any comfort or love or safety for the past 40 years, away from the brother chasing him and calling out his name, away from the brother he trusted and who hooked up with what he despised most. He tried to run from the taunting voice in his head, away from himself, away from who he had become and what he had done. But it was all in vain because these things he could not escape, these things he could never forget and these things he would never be able to erase.
It felt like Dean had run for hours and yet he made no headway in escaping these fears. His lungs burned from the effort and the lack of oxygen and his eyes leaked tears but there was no sadness behind them only despair. Dean stumbled into a deserted park, panting furiously but still moving forward and never once looking behind. The exhausted hunter couldn't seem to catch his breath and he had to stop when his vision blurred and a wave of dizziness slammed into him. He leaned over, bracing his hands on his knees to prevent himself from falling over.
Amongst the stillness of the outside world he felt a low growl rising from the depths of the earth. He felt it rising in his bones, he felt filling his veins and he heard it calling his name, well, well my pet, we meet again. Dean froze in horror; he was coming for him.
An earth splitting sound resounded inside his head and Dean's hands automatically shot up to cover his ears. Nearby pigeons surged wildly into the air, wings thundering frantically, whirling all around, trapping Dean within a frenzied kaleidoscope of pulsating sunlight. He was hit by the troubling realization that unlike the birds, he was tethered to this earth; unable to escape the trap he knew was opening up beneath him. Dean's breaths strained harshly against the constraints of his lungs and throat. His eyes flitted crazily and his head tilted back, sight skyward desperately searching for something, for someone to pull him up, to save him once again.
Dean tried to escape this impending doom. Where do you think you're going, pup? But Dean's insides turned to stone and his limbs tensed stiffly robbing him of the ability to flee. On your knees, boy. His unbending legs suddenly folded beneath him, driving his knees into the ground, compelling him to look down at the earth, to stare at this barrier a thousand miles deep and yet offering no protection, no safety against his plummet back to hell.
Windswept murmurings from below hissed out in a familiar voice, that's my boy, come home to daddy. Dean's strangled screams were unable to slip by his gritted teeth and punctured lips. His arms locked reflexively as he tried to brace against the ground rushing up to swallow him as an invisible force pulled him down. The terrified hunter closed his eyes against the seemingly endless free fall which was halted when he finally hit solid earth. Dean was rendered boneless, heartless and empty and he felt no relief lying on the wet turf, lying on the outside of his grave, on the other side of hell.
Sam watched helplessly as his brother toppled forward. The young hunter ran as fast as he could to where Dean lay motionless and came to a skidding halt, falling roughly to his knees beside his brother. Sam tentatively took hold of Dean's jacket and turned his brother's unresisting body over. He was taken aback by the look of abject fear in Dean's eyes and the sawing breaths wheezing painfully in and out the older hunter. Sam stuttered words of comfort as he visually inspected his brother for injuries and tried to swallow the lump of fear lodged in his own throat. His eyes were drawn back to Dean's expression and watched it transform from fear to panic. Sam tried to calm his older brother, his lifelong protector, his only family and true friend but his words went unheard. The young man pulled Dean's trembling form towards him but the older hunter resisted, clawing desperately against the hands holding him. Dean tried to scrabble away from the hands holding him down, the hands of his captor, from the one who would send him back there, who would return him to his torturer.
Sam couldn't seem to get through to his brother and he struggled to keep Dean close and from hurting himself.
"Dean, it's me… Sam…Sammy." His words had no impact on the frightened hunter. "Dean…what is it? Can you hear me? Dean, what's wrong?" But, Sam's efforts proved futile and Dean continued to fight against the strong arms of his brother that gripped him tightly and wouldn't allow him to get away.
Dean was certain he could feel the heat of the fires coming up through the ground below him, the fires that would engulf and consume him, the fires that would burn his skin and sear his eyes. He could smell the putrid smell of blood and flesh and insides burning. He could taste the vileness of urine and vomit and stomach acid and Dean knew how this story would end. He knew because Alastair told him so and Alastair had never lied to him. Inevitably, Dean knew he was on his way back to hell. 'Hah, just like the prodigal son, my boy.' Inevitable because he promised to get his favourite student back and because Dean knew, oh so well, that Alastair always got what he wanted. And with that final realization Dean released a cry from the depths of his soul, a scream so primal, so piercing, so frightening that Sam let go of his brother and knew this was a sound he would never forget as long as he lived.
TBC...