TW: Referenced Rape

For four weeks, Dean had been distracted. He had to go on hunts with Sam with the knowledge that he didn't have his soul, which was bad enough. Mix in the fact that Mack was in the looney bin and he had no idea how she was doing, and things went from bad to worse. He had agreed with Cas that Mack needed to get professional help; she'd been through too much to be able to simply push through and bounce back from it all. However, he hated not knowing if she was actually getting better or not. Bobby had said that they had invited families to visit this week, and he was upset that he couldn't be there himself. But Bobby had gone on his behalf, and from what he heard, Mack was making some great progress.

He was still worried about her though. She had been pretty vivid in telling him about the way John had beaten her as punishment for disobeying during hunts over the course of the eight months she was with him. The idea that John was alive, and still out there somewhere filled Dean with equal parts anger and fear. Growing up on the road with John Winchester had been one of the most terrifying and difficult experiences of his life. He had always made sure that he took the brunt of John's anger so that Sam wouldn't have to know or experience that side of their father.

Sam was the golden child. He was going places, even if those places weren't where John wanted him to go. The night Sam had left for Stanford, Dean had struggled. He was proud of Sammy for doing what he couldn't and getting out from under the tyrannical pressure of their father's thumb, but he'd also been bitter with his brother for leaving him alone with John. And then when Andrea showed up one day with Mack and then took off, he made a vow that he would protect her just like he'd protected Sammy. Especially once the DNA test came back positive. Lot of good that vow was now. He'd failed her.

As he sat at the table in the motel room he and Sam were staying at while they tried to find another case to work, cleaning and reassembling his gun, he got a phone call from Sioux Falls General Hospital. Immediately worried that something was wrong with Mack, he picked up. "Hello?" he asked. "Hello, my name is Dr. Thompson. I'm Mckinley's primary therapist here at Sioux Falls General. Is this her father, Mr. Wesson?"

"Y-yes, this is. Is something wrong? Is Mack alright?" Dean's heart was pounding out of his chest. "Mckinley's just fine. She's actually been making impressive strides in her recovery here. I just had a few questions for you, if that's alright," Dr. Thompson replied. "Sure, yeah. What do you need to know?" Dean swallowed. "As I'm sure you know, Mckinley is suffering from a few major disorders, including PTSD and depression. She has opened up a lot about the causes behind these. What I need to know from you, Mr. Wesson, is what happened between the time she was saved following her time with John and when you brought her here to us."

"W-what happened?" Dean echoed. "Yes. Mckinley says she remembers everything up until the day of her rape and rescue from John, but can't remember any details of her recovery from the injuries sustained during her captivity." Dean's brain short circuited, focusing in on that one word. Rape. She hadn't said anything about getting sexually assaulted while telling him what happened during the truth curse. "She… she told you she was raped by him?" he asked. "Well, not in so many words," Dr. Thompson said, "but we were able to infer through her accounts that in addition to the physical and verbal abuse she suffered, there was also sexual assault toward the end."

"Oh…" Dean swallowed, trying to wrap his brain around that fact. If he ever ran into John, there would be some serious hell to pay. "Now, back to the matter at hand, Mr. Wesson," the doctor continued. "Can you tell me about Mckinley's recovery after she was rescued? I've looked through the files and can't find any reports of a hospital visit."

"Um… yeah… we, uh, we didn't take her to the hospital… Um… W-when um, when she was rescued an angel healed her," Dean stammered, rubbing his forehead tiredly. "An angel?" Dr. Thompson sounded confused. "Well, y-you know… not literally an angel, obviously. But, uh, we got a family friend who specializes in medicine and he really worked some magic on her." The therapist was quiet on the other side of the line. "I understand," he finally spoke. "The miracles of modern medicine." Dean nodded, "E-exactly."

"May I ask, what is the name of this family friend who aided Mckinley's recovery?" Dr. Thompson queried. "Uh, Cas. His name's Cas." The doctor hummed in understanding, "Ah, yes, the one who rescued her. Mckinley has told us that he protects her." Dean smiled a little, "Yeah, he does. He's a good friend."

"Thank you for your time, Mr. Wesson. We'll make sure and keep you informed as to the rest of Mckinley's recovery." Dean nodded, "Thanks, doc. Goodbye." He hung up, mind still reeling. The door opened and Sam came strolling in, "Hey." He noticed Dean's expression as he sat down at the table across from him. "Everything alright?"

"He raped her."

"What?"

"I just got off the phone with her therapist. He didn't just physically and verbally assault her, he raped her," Dean shook his head, shaking with anger. "I'm gonna kill him. I swear, if I ever see his face again, I'm gonna kill him." Sam frowned a little, "Well, that's the thing, though, isn't it. If. I mean, assuming that Dad is out there-"

"The hell are you talking about, 'assuming he's out there'?! He assaulted my kid! Mack is in a mental ward because of what he did to her! Are you freaking kidding me right now?!" Dean leapt to his feet, glaring at his brother furiously. Sam didn't react, expression completely neutral as he attempted to backtrack. "No, right, I know that, I just meant-"

"Who cares what you meant?! God, I can't stand this version of you! If you had your soul, you wouldn't be acting so calm about this! He. Raped. My. Daughter. Your niece. Do you understand that, Sam?" Sam nodded, still annoyingly indifferent. "Of course I understand that, Dean, but you said it yourself. I'd be able to get worked up about it if I had my soul, but I don't. So, honestly, I don't care. I'm sorry that that upsets you, but I just don't."

Dean had begun pacing, running his hands furiously through his hair. "I need food. Are you coming?" Sam looked at him, "I don't need to eat, Dean. Soulless." Dean rolled his eyes, giving a huff of frustration through his nose. "Whatever. I'll be back in a little while. You do research or whatever." He grabbed his jacket at keys, ignoring whatever response Sam had. When he got to the nearest diner, his heart dropped in his chest. A 1981 step-side GMC Sierra Grande was parked in front of the diner, a few spots down from him. He would recognize that truck anywhere.

His stomach tied itself in knots as he climbed out of the Impala, eyes glued on the truck. A thousand emotions rushed through his body; hatred, anger, disgust, fear, dread… He never thought he would get the chance to run into his father so soon after declaring that if he ever laid eyes on him again, he'd kill him. Taking a steadying breath and pushing the fear and dread to a far corner of his mind, he set his sights on the diner itself, mentally preparing himself to deal with what was inside.

John Winchester sat in the corner booth of the old diner eating his lunch. He was just coming off a hunt, and had needed to stop and get some food before he continued his journey. He was still angry and lamenting the loss of Mckinley, wishing he still had the help during hunts. He was perfectly capable of doing the work on his own, but it was a lot more convenient having another person he could make do things. While he was lost in his thoughts, thinking about how he'd make her look for their next hunt while he drove, someone suddenly sat down across from him in the booth.

"Well, well, well," he grinned when he recognized the newcomer. "Look what the cat dragged in." Dean glared at his father, anger lighting up his eyes. "You look a bit frustrated, son. Something wrong?" Dean fumed, "How could you?"

"How could I what?" John feigned ignorance. "You know exactly what. Did you really think you could kidnap and do those things to my daughter and I'd never find out?" To Dean's utter disgust, John smirked, chuckling in amusement. "Did that little bitch tell you or was it that supposed angel who took her from me?" Deal balked. "Don't you dare call her that."

"You mean what she is?" John scoffed. "Honestly, Dean, if you didn't spend so much time coddling the little bitch, I wouldn't have had to whip her into shape like I did." Dean was livid, jaw clenched and chest heaving. John was smirking at him, amusement lighting up his eyes; he was enjoying every second of riling Dean up. "You son of a bitch," Dean hissed. "What are you going to do about it, boy? You don't have the balls to fight me. Beat that out of you a long time ago."

"Oh, is that a challenge?"

John laughed outright, wiping his mouth with his napkin and dropping it on his empty plate. He folded his hands together, elbows leaning on the table as he stared at Dean. "Sure. Let's go with that," he smiled. "Great. Let's take this outside then," Dean said, standing up. "Unless you're afraid you're going to lose." John stared up at him for a long moment, and then also stood. "After you," he gestured toward the door. Dean turned on his heel, heading outside. He led the way to the alley beside the diner, turning to face his father angrily.

"Honestly, Dean, I don't think you got the guts to take me on," John shook his head. "You're just like that bitch you call a daughter. She was all too willing to take her punishments without a fight, too." As he spoke, Dean clenched his fists at his side and then he was taking measured steps forward as he replied. "Stop. Calling. Her. A. Bitch!" Following the last word, he reared back, clocking John across the face. John stumbled back a step in shock, and then they were both throwing punches.

"I'm a better father than you ever were," Dean growled, blocking John's fist and then socking him in the jaw. "I love that girl more than anything in the world. More than myself, more than Sam, and especially more than the damn job! You never put us first! All you cared about was killing the thing that killed mom! I was relieved when you died! And I'm going to make sure you stay dead this time!"

He'd managed to beat John to the ground, pounding him into submission. He wrapped his hands around John's neck, and then in a feat of strength he didn't think was possible with how bruised and bloody John had become, his father managed to flip positions, so he was on his back under him. He immediately froze up, flashing back to countless moments in his childhood where John had him in this same position as he yelled at and beat on him drunkenly. And then he came to the horrible realization that this was what Mack had come to experience countless times as well.

"Not so tough now, are you?" John taunted, striking him across the face. "You think you can kill me? You had your chance when that yellow eyed son of a bitch possessed me and you didn't take that shot. You wouldn't be able to do it now, either."

"Y-you're wrong," Dean choked out, grabbing onto John's arm to stop him from striking again. "I will kill you for what you did to my daughter. I swear. I will."

"Good luck with that," John smirked, straightening up. "Here's my promise to you. If I ever see that bitch again, you won't be able to do a damn thing to stop me from what I have planned for her." Dean tried to get up, but was slugged across the face once more by his father and fell back again in a daze, spots dancing across his vision. John left him there, heading back to his truck and taking off. Dean lay there for several minutes until his vision stopped swimming, and then he dragged himself to his feet.

John's final words to him rang in his ears, filling him with fear. His only solace lay in the fact that Mack was currently safe at the hospital getting help. When she was allowed to leave the program following her recovery, there would be no force on Earth that would stop him from protecting his precious little girl from the monster that landed her in that hospital in the first place. The next time he laid eyes on John Winchester, he would kill him. He didn't know how or when that would be, but it was going to happen.

Because he had sworn it, and if there was one thing he was, he was a man of his word.