Demon Blood

Chapter Thirteen: More than Revenge

A small portion of dialogue comes from 2.01 "In My Time Of Dying".

There was really no getting around it. Dean was fucking pissed.

"How the hell could you do that?" he exploded, noting with a wave of chagrin that Sam had jolted awake on the couch.

"Dean?" he said blearily, but Dean ignored him for the moment and focused on his father, instead.

"Well?" he asked.

"Would you calm down?" John snapped, forcing Dean to sit back down on the overstuffed chair next to the couch. "There was no way out of it, Dean! He was going to kill you both, I couldn't let that happen…" He looked away, but not before Dean caught the unshed tears gathered in his dark eyes. "You know I would do anything for you boys."

"I do know that," Dean said, "but making a Deal with a demon? With Azazel? After everyone he's killed, and what he did to Sam, to other kids like that Max Miller I told you about?"

"I'd do it again if it meant saving the both of you from dying!" John burst out, effectively silencing Dean. He noticed that Sam was sitting up now, silently watching the exchange with wide eyes and shaking hands, and he wondered if the shaking was from the lingering effects of withdrawal or the fact that he hadn't eaten nearly enough to regain his strength, but then his attention snapped back to his father when he started speaking again.

"I've put you boys in plenty of bad situations, I know," John said, "but you've always been able to save each other without any extreme harm." He closed his eyes and a tear escaped, sliding into his beard. "Not this time," he whispered. "I almost lost you."

"We know," Sam said before Dean could utter a single word. "Some plans just don't work, and some visions always come true." He looked away and Dean sat up straighter, instantly aware of what Sam wasn't saying.

"You had a vision of that day?" he asked.

Sam was silent for a long moment before nodding and rubbing at his forehead. "It was during one of my hallucinations," he admitted. "Thought I was goin' crazy."

Dean wanted to joke, wanted to end the tension and Sam's pain, but even he knew when to back off. "So," he said, turning back to John, "you walk out tomorrow and Mr. Yellow-Eyes carts your soul off to Hell while we get to just… live?"

John took a deep breath before nodding. "That about sums it up," he said. "I know he's got the Colt, but there's gonna be a chance someday to get it back and kill him once and for all."

"Dad," Sam said softly, "what do you know about his plans? Did you already know what he did to me the night Mom…?"

Dean watched his father's expression as he stared down at his youngest. "Do you trust me, Sammy?" he asked, and Sam looked up.

"Yeah," he said simply, looking so much younger than his twenty-three years.

John took another breath before nodding. "I knew," he said. "There's a lot that's gonna happen in the coming months, a lot I just can't tell you."

Dean expected Sam to blow up, to demand answers they way he'd been doing since he'd hit puberty, but the kid merely closed his eyes and nodded in resignation.

"But there will be a chance to get your hands on the Colt, again," John continued, looking hard at Dean. "I don't know when, exactly, but Azazel needs that gun for a part of his plans. Until that day comes, though, I need you boys to watch out for each other, keep each other safe. And when the time comes, kill that bastard."

"Yes, sir," Dean said at the same time as Sam. "How will we know when it's time?" he asked after a moment.

"Trust me," John said with a small smile, "you'll know."

There was a moment of silence before Sam spoke again.

"Azazel wants both of you in Hell," he said quietly, and Dean froze.

"Why?" he asked, eyes darting between his brother and father.

Sam shrugged. "He told me he planned to make sure you both ended up there, and it'd be for me." He looked up at Dean. "He didn't know he was going to throw you into the Deal with Dad until I fucked things up."

"But you knew?" Dean asked, and Sam nodded, dropping his eyes again. "Why does he want us both down there, Dad?"

John sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I don't know for certain, son," he said, and Dean felt his anger mounting again. "That's why I want you two to watch out for each other, make sure nothing like that ever happens, you got it?"

Dean wanted to yell, to demand the answers that Sam wouldn't, but when Sam nodded and gave a quiet, "Yes, sir," Dean found he didn't have to strength to do otherwise and gave a short nod in response.

There was another moment of tense silence.

"I'm sorry," Sam blurted.

"What?" Dean was startled and saw there were tears in Sam's eyes. "Why? For what?"

"Everything," Sam said, his voice breaking. "Everything I've done and said, I never shoulda let myself be influenced by a bunch of demons —"

"You didn't know," John cut in, actually sitting down next to Sam and placing a hand on his shoulder. "Hell, none of us knew and we were the ones watching out for you."

"It doesn't matter!" Sam cried, looking up at John. "I never understood, I never let myself understand cause all I wanted was to be normal." He sucked in a deep breath. "You never deserved all that anger, hell, I never understood why I was so angry half the time, but it was wrong of me and it hurts and I don't know what were my own thoughts and what weren't and now you're goin' to Hell cause of me and my stupid —"

"Sam!" Dean broke in, forcing himself off the chair and kneeling in front of his brother while clutching his knees. "It's all right, me and Dad understand, we really do."

Sam closed his eyes. "That was another one of my hallucinations," he said softly. "I was arguing with myself at fourteen and I finally understood what you'd been trying to teach me all this time."

"At fourteen?" Dean asked.

Sam smiled sadly. "That's how old I was when I decided I wanted to go to college, get away from the 'family business' and live a safe life away from it all. I never understood your definition of what family really means, Dean, and I know I can't ever make it up, but I'm so sorry I walked out." He chanced a glance at John before adding, "The only thing I didn't want to do was be completely cut off."

"I'm sorry I made you feel that way," John sighed, squeezing Sam's shoulder.

"I know," Sam whispered.

"And there's nothing to forgive," John added after a moment. "You're my son and I'll always be proud of you."

Sam gave a watery smile and Dean noticed the way his brother's head started bobbing slightly, how his blinking became a bit more sluggish.

"You need more rest, Sammy," he said. "It's nap time."

"I just had a nap," Sam protested weakly as John stood and they both forced the youngest Winchester to lie down again.

"Well, you need another," Dean said firmly. "Your body's been through hell, kiddo, it's gonna take time to get you back on your feet."

"Yeah," Sam sighed, closing his eyes. A few minutes later, his breathing evened out and the worry lines on his face smoothed away, leaving him looking as innocent as he had once been as a child.

If only he was still as innocent now as he had been then.

Dean carefully moved to his feet and headed into the kitchen. "I guess Bobby's not back yet," he said, taking a seat at the kitchen table as John took the seat next to him.

"You've got a heavy appetite," John said with a wry grin, "and Sam needs a lot of stuffin' up. It's gonna take him some time to gather enough groceries to last even a week."

"Shut up," Dean said good-naturedly, and they sat in comfortable silence.

"Dean," John said after some time had passed.

"Yeah, Dad?"

"I, uh…" He ran a hand down the side of his face. "You know, when you were a kid and I'd come home from a Hunt, feeling all wrecked from the things I'd seen, you'd always walk up to me, put your hand on my shoulder and tell me 'It's okay, Dad'." He met Dean's eyes and he was surprised to see tears gathering again. He wasn't sure he could take many more moments like this before John was gone. "I'm so sorry for that, Dean."

"For what?" Dean asked, bewildered. "It was always the right thing to do, Dad. Someone had to say it."

"But not you," John said, shaking his head. "I made you grow up too fast, put too damn much on your shoulders. I shoulda been saying that to you, Dean, not the other way around." Another tear escaped, following the same path as the earlier one. "You took care of Sammy, and you took care of me. You took care of this family, and you never complained, not once. That wasn't fair of me, but you… I am so proud of you."

John looked so close to breaking down, and Dean couldn't help but ask, "This really you talkin'?"

John started laughing. "Yeah," he said, clapping Dean on the shoulder. "Yeah, it really is me."

Dean swallowed. "I get that you're gonna be gone come morning," he said, "but why this? Why now?"

John squeezed Dean's shoulder and scooted his chair closer. "I know I told you boys to watch out for each other, but I really want to you to watch out for Sammy, okay?"

"Yeah, Dad," Dean said, "you know I will." He stared at John. "Does this have something to do with Azazel's plans?" John looked away. "Dad, you're scarin' me, I'm gonna take care of Sammy, you know that."

"Don't be scared, Dean," John said, meeting his eyes again, but there was something in his gaze that made Dean feel even more scared. Then John leaned forward and whispered in his ear. "You… Dean, you have to save your brother from what's coming, and if — if you can't, you might have to kill him."

Dean's heart stopped.

John pulled away, looking at Dean with that look that had always been reserved for him because he was the older brother, the reliable one who had always watched out for his baby brother and always would, no matter what happened. That look that said he was proud of him, and above all else, he trusted him to carry this newest burden, and to not tell Sam about it. No one else ever got that look, but for the first time, Dean didn't want John looking at him like that.

For the first time in his entire life, Dean was scared, and not just for Sam. No, this time he was scared for them both. Just then, the front door slammed open and Bobby was calling for John to come help haul in the groceries, and John left the room, leaving Dean sitting at the kitchen table with a secret and a silent promise to not tell his brother that he might have to…

Dean had never felt so alone as he did in that moment.

Dinner that night was subdued, given that John was going to Hell in the morning, but everyone managed to talk about everything else, anything else but the damn deal John had made to save his sons from certain death. Dean barely slept that night, and Sam suffered from some pretty severe nightmares.

The next morning, John walked outside alone to die. After a few minutes, Sam looked up from his position next to Dean on the couch and said quietly, "It's over." Dean didn't know how his brother knew that, exactly, but after everything they'd been through, he believed him. John was gone.

Sam and Dean allowed Bobby to help them prepare John's body to be burned, allowed him to help them erect the burial pier, but he respectfully stayed away that night as they set fire to the pier and watched their father's body become ashes. Sam couldn't stop his tears from flowing silently. Dean found he didn't know how to let them out.

"Did he…" Sam struggled with what he wanted to say. "Did he say anything else to you yesterday? When I was sleeping?"

Dean didn't look at him, his gaze still firmly attached to the blazing fire before them. Part of him wanted to tell Sam what John had told him about his little brother, but the fact of the matter was that he had promised not to say a word, if unwillingly. "No," he finally said. "Just that he was proud of me, proud of you."

Sam nodded, trusting Dean to be honest with him. His gaze returned to the flames, John's dog tags clutched in his left hand with the wedding ring that he had never once taken off for anything. He never stopped loving Mom, he thought sadly, and now he'll never avenge her.

But that was the thing, both boys now realized. This was about more than avenging Mary Winchester's death, or Jessica Moore's, or their dad's, or any of the other people Azazel had killed over the years. This was now a quest to stop Azazel's plans from coming to pass, and Sam and Dean knew they'd see things through to the end, come what may.

They stayed outside until long after the fire had burned itself out, until Sam's tears had dried, until Dean felt nothing but emptiness inside rather than the burning fear and hatred that surrounded the final secret John had bestowed upon him. It was only then that the remaining pieces of the Winchester family made their way back to the safety of Bobby Singer's home, both young men secretly praying they'd be able to put their family back together as much as possible.

Dark eyes watched from a distance, taking notice of anything that could be of import to their leader. When the younger boy lifted his head and stared right in their direction, they slunk back to an even further distance. The boy could do more than they had expected, but no matter. Those eyes would continue to watch and observe until the day of reckoning came.

And then the real fun could begin.

This 'verse is continued in the one-shot "Supernatural vs Evil". Thanks for reading!

Yami Faerie