Hi guys! So this is a new story I'm working on and it will be a fairly long story. I am in love with Destiel and I think Sam and Jess are cute together. Anyways, the story starts off a little slow but it will get faster and more smooth as the story progresses(I hope^^). In this story, I made John go a bit insane. You'll see what I mean in chapter 2. I have a hate/love thing going on with bad-dad-John because it makes the story have a more interesting plot(at least I think so) but I also like John as a character in the show and I don't like making him a bad guy. Therefore I will tell you that the story is a bit dark in some places but I will have a happy ending...or will I? O.o
I want to thank you for reading my story, in fact I can't thank you enough! This will be my first ever "serious" fanfiction and I'm a bit nervous. Constructive criticism is always appreciated and I love, Love, LOVE comments. (Seriously they will make me feel more confident about posting this story so that the whole WORLD could possibly see it)
Thank you again for taking time out of your day to read this and I hope that you enjoy it! ^^
Dean POV:
The Impala glistened in the warm sun rays and purred as it rolled down the endless asphalt road. The tires pushed yellowed leaves to the side, leaving them to dance and swirl behind as it drove. Dean's calloused hands gripped the steering wheel as his thumbs were used as drum sticks, beating along to an ACDC song that blared from the old speakers. His head jerked back and forth in time to the music, and he would sometimes belt out the words of the song.
After a log day, whether it be in school or at work, Dean loved to listen to music in his beloved Impala and just ride. She was beautiful, calming, reliable, and best of all...his. He didn't own much things that he could call truly 'his' but she was one of them.
At school he was always surrounded by people and always talking to somebody that it sometimes got exhausting. The girls, and some guys, hung off his every word and would chase and beg him for attention. It was both flattering, and annoying. He never really had any time to himself.
Working as a mechanic was different. Bobby, Dean's adoptive Uncle, hired him immediately after Dean was old enough to work part time. Ever since, work was his favorite place to go to let his mind escape the rush of the day. At first, he was only able to clean up after the other mechanics, but now he was working under a hood of a car every day. From the beginning, he was able to let his mind wander and the stress of home and school life was non-existent.
But no matter how relaxing being at work was, being in his Impala was amazing. There was no feeling like it. Seeing the road expand and stretch before you as you roll down it without a care in the world and knowing that you can go anywhere was thrilling.
But today was not the best of days. After a long, grueling day in school and two hours of changing the batteries and replacing the brake fluids of several cars, Dean was exhausted. He wanted to pull over and fall asleep against the plush cushions in the backseat with his music on in the background. It would be perfect, but unreasonable. He could get a ticket or something.
So he took the long route home, enjoying the relaxing ride every second. Soon though, he was pulling up in front of his modern, and boring looking house. The once white walls were now yellow and chipping and due to the impending winter ahead, all plant life was dead.
Dean pulled up next to the 1986 GMC Sierra Grande that sat in the drive way, and smiled. If his dad's truck was in the driveway this early then that meant he was back from his hunting trip with his friends. Every month, John and his hunting buddies went on a week long hunting trip. They would always bring home some sad little animal to sell for extra money. Usually the Bambi heads sold for 50 bucks or higher. Dean personally doesn't think that hunting innocent animals for a few measly dollars for weeks on end was worth it, but what could he do?
Dean quickly made his way inside the house, looking for his dad. John's bags sat in the hallway, and a foul odor emitted from them, probably the dead animals. Dean's nose crinkled at the smell but he pushed on. Eventually, Dean found John at the kitchen table with his head in his hands. He looked as if he had fallen asleep. Dean, a little more hesitant, walked up to his father.
"Dad?" John grunted in response, cluing Dean in that he was indeed awake.
John ran a hand down his face and gave Dean a side glance. He cupped one hand in the other and pushed his mouth into the fingers, looking like he was holding back from saying something.
"Did I do something wrong or..." Dean left the sentence empty in his momentary state of confusion.
Finally, John stood and faced Dean. After a moment of staring, John held up a small stack of bills that had yet to be paid. Some were opened from when Dean had searched through them two days ago. The look in his father's eyes told him that John was angry, furious even. "The bills." John said simply. John's voice was strained and his body was shaking slightly from the anger boiling inside of him. John knew Dean was sneaky and that he liked to pry into things he shouldn't, but that didn't mean he had to like it.
Dean knew that what he did was wrong, and rude. John didn't like his kids knowing how far behind they were on the bills. Dean had only opened them to see if he could contribute and help his father a little. He did, after all, have a job.
"Yes I did. And I also placed some money in that envelope. That is enough to cover the water and electrical bills." Dean crossed his arms over his chest in both pride and defense.
John's anger seemed to grow and before Dean knew it, John was in his face. "You don't think I can provide for this family! Is that it? We are doing fine!" Anger swelled inside Dean. It wasn't fair for John to just yell at him for trying to do something nice for his family.
"I am not a child! I have a job and I earn money just like you do. I can help Dad! Your just too stubborn to receive it!" Both men were face to face, nose to nose. Their eyes met in a heated glare and both weren't willing to give in first.
"You watch your tongue, or I swear that I will show you your place." John's voice dropped a few octaves with barely contained fury and his body shook even more.
Dean, feeling brave and undeserving of this treatment, stepped closer to John. "I dare you" Dean hissed.
Without seeing it coming, Dean was suddenly thrown into the closest wall. A searing pain spread throughout his back and Dean groaned in pain. He struggled to get up and fight back but John had different plans. John settled on his knee and delivered one punch after another to Dean's torso and sides. John was yelling at Dean but the he couldn't hear him over the ringing in his ears. His vision blurred but he forced himself to stay awake.
Dean tried to fold into himself to stop the assault on his body. Usually, he had no problem in fights, but those were always with teenagers his age who hadn't yet fully developed lots of muscles. John however, was as strong as a bear. He was massive compared to Dean and it didn't help that Dean was already in so much pain.
John tucked his head down much like a boxer at a punching bag. The punches got increasingly harder and faster until they suddenly stopped. Dean's hair at the forehead was yanked up, bringing his droopy eyes to meet John's angry ones.
But as John stared into his son's eyes, something clicked inside him. John released Dean as if he had touched fire. He clutched his scraped and bruised hands to his chest in what seemed like surprise and disgust. Whether he was surprised at Dean's pleading eyes or realizing the damage that he had obtained to himself during his beating, Dean didn't know.
John stood and rushed to the other side of the kitchen. His head was turned to the other side so Dean was unable to see John's face.
Dean sat and waited. 'What was John going to do next? Could he leave? If he did, would he be punished more?' These were the thoughts going through Dean's head and he was disgusted that he would think of his father so poorly. Maybe John had a reason for all of that other than him looking at the bills.
Dean was startled out of his thoughts by the envelope landing in his lap. Dean started to protest but was cut off by John. "Take the money and go to your room." John said, his voice shaky. He refused to look at Dean as he spoke.
"Bu-"
"I said go Dean!" John turned finally and Dean saw shimmering paths of tears run down John's face. At that moment, Dean felt a wave of different emotions swirling inside of him. Confusion, anger, and sadness were only some of them. He struggled to get up and had to use the wall to stand. Looking back once more at his father, he shuffled out of the kitchen and started up the long, painful trek to his upstairs bedroom.
When he finally got to his room he threw the envelope across the room with as much force as he could muster. It landed in a corner of the room with a soft thud. Dean shuffled to his bed and laid down carefully. Pain erupted from his back and stomach making him hiss. With a great deal of effort, Dean reached over to his bedside table for his earphones and the famous book, Moby Dick. If he falls asleep now, he probably won't wake until the next morning and he had to get his homework done sometime, why not now?
~TFW~
Sam POV:
Sam watched the threads of curly, gold locks of hair sway as she wrote in her notebook. She bit on her bottom lip in concentration and Sam just couldn't tear his gaze away from her. Her name was Jess. To Sam, she was perfect. Smart, beautiful, funny, and adorably nerdy didn't cover half of what made this goddess so perfect. He felt lucky to even be in her presence, doing this science project with her, and generally being someone he could call a friend. Though, he wished he had more nerve to ask her to be something more.
"I can feel you staring." Sam sat up, not realizing he had just zoned out, again. That actually happened a lot in her presence. Jess smiled at Sam's quirky nerves. "What is it? Do I have something on my face?" She wiped at her face searching for what she thought Sam was looking at.
Sam reached up to stop her, "No! Your fine. More than fine actually." He blushed at the intentions behind his words. "I-I just mean that you know, you don-"
"Sam it's fine. I understand." She laughed, making the awkward situation disappear instantly. Sam joined in her laughter and soon both were gasping for air. Some students and a few older people "shushed" them when they got loud but that didn't matter.
"You worry too much, you know that?" A few stray giggles left her mouth before she reached up to check her phone for the time. "Oh no! Sam I have to go! I lost track of time! My parents are going to be so mad. I'm sorry but I have to go." Jess jumped up to gather her things quickly, stuffing her notebooks in her book bag.
"It's fine. I should probably get going to." Sam reassured her while standing to pack up his things to.
Jess swooped in for a quick hug that Sam cherished, before running off. Sighing, Sam left for home as well. He took the shortest way home because the temperature had dropped twenty degrees since earlier that day. During this time alone, he thought about ways he could possibly ask Jess out. He had a scary thought that if he didn't ask her soon, someone else would.
The lights in the house were off and Dean's Impala was accompanied by John's Truck, indicating that their dad was finally home from his hunting trip. Sam breathed a sigh of relief. He had begun to worry that their Dad was in trouble while he was out hunting, in fact Sam always worried about that. He was sometimes interrupted in his sleep by haunting nightmares of their dad getting mauled by bears or something like that. Sam jogged up to the house and searched for John. He wasn't downstairs or in the backyard so Sam continued his search upstairs. He looked in his room first, even though it made no sense for him to be in there, he still wanted to be thorough.
His next stop was his Dad's room. Sam was sure that he would find John in there but sadly he wasn't. Curious now, Sam wandered to the last bedroom on that floor. Dean's door was slightly ajar but no sound could be heard from inside.
Pushing the door open slowly, Sam peeked inside for Dean. Luckily he didn't have to search long because Sam found Dean sitting on his bed with a book in hand and earphones in his ears. Relief flooded through him. He didn't like being in the house alone for long, the large expanse made him feel lonely when occupied by only him.
Walking into the room, Sam recognized the book that Dean was reading. Moby Dick was a tough novel to read at times but it was also very good.
Dean looked up from his book to Sam. Dean set about putting his book away and pulling his earphones out, albeit rather slowly. "Hey Sammy. You were out for awhile. What's up?" Dean gently laid his hands down across his belly and turned to give Sam his full attention.
"Hey, yeah I was at the library with Jess for a science project." Dean smirked and mumbled something that sounded like 'that wasn't the only thing you were doing, I bet.'
Sam rolled his eyes and shifted impatiently. "Anyways, I noticed Dad's car in the driveway. He's home from hunting, right?"
Sam walked over to Dean and sat at the edge of the bed. Dean's face flashed with a look of fear at the mention of 'Dad' but Sam wouldn't worry about that right now. He'll ask Dean why he was being so weird later.
"Yeah he is. Last I saw, he was at least." Dean looked down to watch his hands fiddle with the hem of his shirt. Sam eyed this nervous gesture with suspicion. Not only was Dean not moving much, but that look of fear earlier was strange. Why was Dean afraid of their Dad?
"Are you okay?" Sam asked warily. Dean shuffled and looked to the far end of the room, avoiding Sam's eyes. "What do mean? I'm fine. Can you go now? I told you that I don't know where Dad is."
"Okay but you look, I don't know, in pain? Are you hurt?" Sam stood and walked closer to Dean's stomach area for better examination. Sam was standing above Dean when he finally looked up from his stubborn gaze at the far wall. Dean's eyes widened and he scrambled away from Sam's looming figure.
Sam wasn't having any of it. He quickly pulled Dean's shirt up and over his chest, maybe even a bit roughly because Dean was hissing in pain. Sam released Dean's shirt in surprise at the horrible sight in front of him. Dean's stomach, chest, and the undersides of his forearms were littered in bruises of different colors. Purple, blue, and mix of yellow and green bruises painted Dean's torso like a disgusting masterpiece.
Dean yanked his shirt back down over himself with a huff of annoyance. Sam didn't know what to do with himself. How could he help Dean? What should he do?
"Get out Sam." Dean said, interrupting his previous thoughts. He couldn't go though, Dean needed him.
"Bu-"
"Now Sam!" Dean yelled. Dean wasn't staring at the wall or his shirt anymore. Instead, he fixed a harsh glare at Sam which could easily send people running for the hills, well, anyone who wasn't Sam Winchester.
Sam nodded stiffly and walked out of the room leaving the door cracked open like how it was before. He quickly walked down the stairs and into the kitchen. He got two cold bags of vegetables from the freezer and walked to a nearby closet to grab the medical kit.
Sam steeled himself before walking into Dean's room again. Dean would probably freak out again and tell Sam to go away, and he had to prepare for that. However, when Sam pushed inside Dean's room again, Dean was silent. He had his arms crossed and his glare was fixed on Sam but otherwise, he was calm.
Sam's step faltered but he pushed on. He slowly walked up to Dean, as if he was some sort of wild animal that was not meant to be touched. He displayed the medical kit and peas, a silent way of him asking for permission to take care of Dean. His answer was a rolling of eyes and looking to the far wall again.
After a bit of convincing, Sam was able to get Dean to sit up for him. The action looked extremely painful and Sam was once again taken aback. This was Dean Winchester. The most popular guy in school. Who would've been brave enough to do this to him, and strong enough.
Sam had wrapped Dean's body in a tight wrap, and strategically placed the pea bags on the worst of the bruises. Every touch had Dean squirming in pain and Sam wondered if he had any broken ribs. If he did, Dean was going to be in trouble because Sam doesn't know how to heal a broken rib!
Dean POV:
Once the job of fixing him up was done, Sam sat back at the end of the bed and tucked his legs under him, getting comfortable. Dean knew that Sam was waiting for an explanation as to why and who had done this to him, but he couldn't tell him. Dean didn't have the heart to tell his little brother that their father beat him after not seeing them for a week.
Sighing, Dean attempted to lighten the mood by waving his smelly, socked foot in Sam's face. That action brought a searing pain in his abdomen but he tried not to let it show. Sam giggled and swatted at his foot playfully but soon he returned to giving Dean the 'We Need To Talk' face.
They were both silent now, watching and waiting for the other to start speaking. Dean sighed again and started reluctantly. "Look, I just got into a small fight in school, okay? Trust me, the other guy looks much worse." Dean didn't know where that easy lie came from but Sam seemed to be okay with that explanation. Sam jumped into a long rant about being responsible and being the 'better man'. Dean, however, wasn't listening. Dean kept thinking of what would happen when John comes back. Would he hurt Sam to? Will he harm Dean again? Would John act like nothing had happened or will he apologize?Dean doesn't want Sam to feel unsafe in his own home, but what could he do about it if it ever happened, if John ever lashed out at Sammy?
Dean cut Sam off rather harshly and made sure Sam was looking in his eyes before he spoke. In all seriousness he said, "Sammy, I don't want Dad to know. Please don't tell him." He knew that he was both lying and begging but at this point he didn't care. Sam was not going to get hurt, not if Dean could help it.
Sam sighed and turned away from Dean in slight frustration. Dean could see the conflicting thoughts clash in a small, internal war in his little brother's head.
"Okay. I won't tell Dad, but if I see that you have been in more fights I'm telling." Sam blushed and turned to stare at the ground but he doesn't stop. "I know that I can't stop you from doing what you want, but we are brothers, Dean. I don't want to see you get hurt, just as much as you don't want me hurt." Sam looked up then and Dean saw the truth in his eyes. Sammy was scared for Dean and if he was being honest with himself, so was he.
Dean had always been a bit scared of John, or at least, scared of disappointing him. But now he was scared that John would hurt Sam next, or hurt Dean again, or leave them both for good. That was the worst though. To imagine them being on their own from now on just because Dean messed up, the thought made him feel sick.
"I'll try, Sammy."
Sam frowned, sticking out his bottom lip for effect, and folded his arms against his chest in a pout. "Don't call me that. You know I hate that nickname. I'm not a little kid."
That got a laugh from Dean and the sour mood was lifted when the sound of Dean and Sam's laughter filled the room.
When the laughter died down, Sam got up and asked Dean if he needed anything before heading off to the warmth and safety of his bed. Dean declined the offer tiredly. He could feel his eye lids getting heavy.
Sam nodded and wished Dean a goodnight before walking out of his room. With Sam gone the silence surrounded Dean and he was left with just the furniture around him to keep him company. Not knowing whether it was from the pain, sleepiness, or lying to Sam, a single tear ran down his freckled face. All of a sudden Dean felt utterly and completely alone.