I apologize for this being late! My day was busier than I expected.
TW for some mild suicidal thoughts and depression fueled Brotherhood bashing (and disclaimer than just because Dean says it doesn't mean that I, as the author, believe it).
Please enjoy!
~TH~
Dean couldn't breathe. It was too much. It was all too much.
"Why, Dean?" Came a voice.
Dean looked down and saw Sammy.
Sammy stared at him with large, empty eyes. Part of the body was burnt, charred skin mixing with melted clothing. His neck was at a weird angle. Broken.
Dead.
"Why did you leave?"
"S-Sammy I-"
"Why did you let me die?"'
"I-I didn't mean, I- I'm sorry I didn't-"
"Dean, what did you do?"
His head snapped up.
"Dad! Dad I tried, I promise I tried!"
"You failed. I knew you would fail. You've never been good enough."
"Dad-"
"Y'know he's right, Deuce."
"Caleb!"
"You failed. I'd stop calling you Deuce but there's not a lower card in the deck. Seems fitting."
John placed a hand on Caleb's shoulder. "Now, son. Why don't you take care of our problem here."
A gun appeared in Caleb's hand. John gently guided his hand until it was pointing directly at Dean.
"Take care of the problem. He's not worth keeping around."
Caleb's hand tightened around the gun.
"Come on, man don't do this." Dean took a step back. He wasn't exactly sure why he was protesting. What did it matter? If Sam was gone, nothing mattered.
His back hit something and he was grabbed by both arms. He looked up to see Jim and Mac holding him.
"What-"
"It needs to be done, Dean." Jim said with a seemingly genuine and remorseful tone.
"You've outlived your usefulness." Mac added, "It's time for you to be put down."
Dean looked into Caleb's eyes. "Damian?" He implored.
"Sorry Dean, but we all know they're right."
The gun went off and Dean screamed.
Dean sat up, taking a wild swing at whatever shadowy figure was standing over his bed.
"Dude!"
"Wha-" He panted, "Carlos?"
"Yeah, yeah it's me. You good, man?"
No. No he was not. At all. "Yeah, yeah I'm good."
"Fun dream?" He flicked the lamp on and Dean had to shield his eyes for a moment.
"Something like that."
"Home?"
"It was nothing, don't worry about it."
Carlos sat down beside him on the bed and it took great restraint for Dean not to tell him off.
"You know you're safe here, right?"
And that just sounded insulting. He didn't need to be kept safe. He was a hunter. A Winchester. He could take care of himself.
"I'm fine."
"Pretty sure you're not."
"Yeah and how would you know? I met you like yesterday. I'm not here for some family or to find myself or whatever crap you guys are into. I just needed a place to stay until it warms up outside."
"Like I said yesterday, you don't have to be ashamed of where you came from. Everyone here has baggage."
Not like him. No one could even begin to understand just how deeply messed up he was.
"Here," Carlos stood, retrieving the container of pills. "Take one. I promise it will make you feel better."
With a shaking hand, he reached out and took it. He let out a breathy laugh, "Yeah?"
"Yeah. And it's not like a high. It's not gonna make you sick or crazy or anything. But it will help. Just make you feel all around… better." He hesitated. "It… it will keep the nightmares away."
Dean nodded. He couldn't- he couldn't go on like this. At this point he didn't care. If it knocked him out he'd finally sleep for the first time in weeks. If it really just made him feel better like Carlos was saying, he'd take it. Even if it killed him… at least this nightmare would be over.
With a resolute nod, he opened the container and dry swallowed one of the pills.
~SPN~
Dean couldn't explain it but he did feel better. Not only did he sleep through the night, but when he woke up he felt… okay. And despite Carlos's words there was a high. A high he hadn't felt in a very long time. Maybe ever. He felt… normal.
The day had been weird. But… nice. As the day drew on he watched the other kids. They seemed… genuinely okay. No one, not even Carlos, seemed high or out of it. And the other kids seemed so human. There was no dull look in their eyes. There wasn't any form of mind control or harmonious influence over them. A few minor arguments broke out but never came to fists. They were calmed quickly but it seemed so… healthy. Like what he imagined a normal family to look like. A really big family, but a family.
And Dean just felt so… good. He felt alive. He'd barely even thought of what had brought him here or his less than ideal circumstances. Everything felt so okay. Like maybe just maybe there was a reason to go on.
Surely the drugs would wear off though. Did he ask for more or just be thankful for the gift he was given and move on?
He knew his dad would call him a wimp for even considering drugs of any kind. Especially something that was all mental. He'd never told him to not do drugs. But he did imply that taking anything stronger than ibuprofen without a bone sticking out would strip you of your mahood.
His dad was notorious for his "suck it up" mindset.
But you know what? John had lost the right to comment on his life when he'd kicked him out of the house for being right. Once again putting Sam and every other thing in the universe over him.
Woah.
Woah, okay where'd that come from?
If his dad hated him then there had to be a legitimate reason. Sam was to be protected at all costs. He knew that and he had screwed up.
No.
John was just a jerk. Always had been. Always will be.
Sam was the baby.
Sam was John's favorite.
And what was worse was that the entire Brotherhood played into it.
Dean was no one's favorite.
Dean wasn't even his own favorite.
If given the choice everyone would choose anyone over him.
And this had just been the deciding proof.
Everyone had taken John's side.
Dean had to wonder if the rest of the Brotherhood knew that John had hit him.
But if they knew, would they even really care?
The only one who had ever had was Caleb and he'd picked a clear side this time. Maybe he was finally done dealing with Dean. Finally done with having to pick a side. He knew that only one adult Winchester would survive in the Brotherhood and he had chosen the one that would get him somewhere.
So much for the magic of friendship or whatever.
But the so-called responsible adults had never cared what happened to him. Hadn't John smacked him around in front of the almighty Triad with almost no response? Again, Caleb had been the only one to even try to do anything about it. He'd been, what? Eleven the first time John had blatantly smacked him around? Just a smack across the face but he'd drawn blood. And no one had cared. Well, Sam had, but things had changed in that respect in the past nine years. This time his little brother had probably enjoyed it.
Flagstaff was case in point. Even after finding out that Dad had beat the crap out of him, Sam's anger was still pointed at Dean. Once again Caleb was his only defender.
Maybe that's what hurt so much.
John had never liked him. He'd never been anything but a personal soldier in a never ending private war. Dean had been cursed with his mother's eyes and that, if nothing else, sealed his fate. John would choose Sam at every interval. Dean would be punished for both his own failings and Sam's. His disapproval and rejection hurt. It would be a lie to say otherwise. But it was nothing new. In John's eyes, Dean had been responsible for every wrong committed against the Winchester family. If John could find a way to blame the demon killing his mom on Dean he'd do it. Dean was used to it and while it hurt, it was at least expected. It was an old pain that occasionally flared when irritated.
Sam had made his view of Dean clear. Dean was on the same level as John. Worse even, because at least John had guts. Dean was just a worthless pushover who insisted on making Sam's life miserable. The change from being Sam's hero to being his worst enemy was a change. One that hurt. One that Dean would never completely get over. But it was at least a culmination of hurts that led to a large one. Sam's attitude towards him hurt, but it wasn't a surprise. Sam deserved better than Dean and he'd finally come to that realization.
Mac and Jim had always tried. They cared to a degree. But their duty was to the Brotherhood and by extension to John. And when not to John then to Sam. He couldn't say they didn't care for him at all, but he knew he was at the bottom of the priority list. Another brief sting but one he had accepted as a loyal member of the Brotherhood.
But Caleb? Caleb had been the only real constant in his absolutely screwed up life. Caleb kept him safe against everyone, even John. Caleb was the only person who had made Dean feel like a priority and not second or even third string player. He was the only one to ever act like maybe John was the problem and not Dean. Caleb was the one who told Dean that no one deserved to be hit, no matter what he'd done. Caleb was the one who showed up to baseball games when John didn't even seem to care. Caleb was the only one to ever insinuate that maybe Dean was more than just Sam's caretaker. But apparently he was sick of it. Apparently he'd realized that Dean was a lost cause. John and everyone else was right. The Brotherhood came first. The Knight had told Dean to get out and Caleb had decided, just like everyone else, that the Brotherhood was important and Dean wasn't. And Dean knew he should have expected it. He should have seen it coming. Everyone else felt that way. Why wouldn't Caleb come to the same realization? But it hurt. It hurt worse than he could even explain. To have the one person who ever actually cared whether you lived or died to just stop caring altogether… It wasn't a dull or expected wound. It was like being stabbed in the back and while the knife was being ripped out, replacing it with a handful of salt.
Dean was being overcome with such a wash of anger. He found himself suddenly fighting back tears along with an almost physical pain.
To think that he'd ever given those people anything. To think that he'd given these people everything. He'd never held anything back from them. He'd given them his childhood, his innocence, his education, his career, his friggin' life! And what had they ever given him in return? Broken bones? Cracked skulls? Bruises? A screaming match where he was expected to remain quiet and not fight back? A chew toy for a pack of dogs named the Brotherhood to fight over?
Caleb had at least tried but if even he was done with him? Then fine. He would be done with the Brotherhood.
"Hey- Dean, snap out of it!"
Dean jerked his head towards the voice. "What?" He blinked, feeling at least some of the anger fade away. "Hey, Carlos, Sorry."
"You good, man?"
"Yeah I'm-" He stopped. No he wasn't. "No actually do you have any more of that… stuff."
Carlos smiled at him with pity. Dean felt his skin begin to crawl at the expression but held it together. He didn't know what the stuff was and at the minute he didn't care. If he had to play a poor abused and traumatized kid to get more of it, then so be it. If he didn't he'd freakin' walk in front of a bus.
"Sure, man." He went over to his drawer and pulled out the bottle. "But,"
Oh great here came the catch.
"I want you to talk to Whiteman."
Dean involuntarily tensed up.
"I know, I know." His roomate placated, dropping the pill in his hand. "But I can't keep supplying you. I only have so many myself and I want to help, dude. I really do. But Whiteman can set you up in a way I can't. Talk to him?"
Dean rolled the pill between his fingers. "You sure he'll give me some? Not… not like- turn me in or something?" He finally said quietly.
"Dude, I swear. I can tell you're not the trusting type but just try on this, yeah?"
The pill slipped through his lips and he knew that logically he couldn't immediately feel the effects but… what would it hurt? To feel actually okay for once? It was worth it. And there was no one here to condemn him for it or hit him or even yell at him about it. "Yeah. I'll talk to him tomorrow."
Carlos clasped him on the back. "Trust me, man. You won't regret it."
Dean let the drug push back any notion that he would.
~TH~
I'm too tired to formulate cohesive thoughts so just... please let me know what you think :)
Thoughts on Dean's thoughts?
On the drugs?
On Carlos?
On the Brotherhood?
Just lemme hear your thoughts lol.
I crave comments like a starving dog.
Much love and God bless,
Jamie
