Title: John Finds Out. Version One
Author: Jakisbishlygay
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing/Characters: Dean/Sam, John
Raiting: NC-17 (READ WARNINGS)
Word Count: Version One: 1619. Version 1.2: 0. Version two: 0. Version Three: 0.
Beta: Alas, no beta. Any and all mistakes are mine.
Disclamer: If you like John, or get squicked when he's portrayed as a bastard, don't read this. Torture and violence.
Feedback: Good or bad, just make it constructive.
Summary: When John finds out that the boys love is more than just the brotherly kind, he doesn't take it well and hurts Sam.
Authors Note: This
is the first time I've written John as a bad guy. So any feedback on
how well I mad him an evil ass would be much appriciated. Also, this
was born from a prompt given by zenamydog. Versions two and three will be fromgreenwing's requests on how John should react after finding out. Also, depending on reviews, I may make volumes 2-3 in seperate stories for those who don't even want to look at this.
John Finds Out
V. One
(For zenamydog)
--four weeks before--
"How dare you taint your brother!" John's face was blood red as he screamed at Dean.
"He didn't taint me!" came Sam's reply from behind the bed. He stood naked before his father, a look of defiance and anger marring his face.
Dean was speechless. Covering himself with his previously discarded jeans, he stood as far away from Sam and his father as possible as they began to scream at each other. Vaguely grateful as he registered that the motel they were in was in a lass than perfect neighborhood. No matter how loud the Winchester's were, no one would call the cops.
Pulling his pants up and deliberately not listening to the argument, Dean couldn't help it, he visibly flinched every time his brother and his father fought with their words and accusations. John screaming things like blasphemy, sin, eternal hell, twisted, freaks of nature, and this is not normal, Sam. The words Sam shot back at him, love, happy, and fuck normal were just as loud as his fathers.
Shortly after fastening the fly of his jeans, his father threw the only shirt in arms reach towards him. "Take a walk" was all John said, and Dean put on his brothers shirt, shoved his bare feet into his boots and left. Following orders.
After two hours of walking around the parking lot, never straying too far from the motel room, Dean watched as John left the room, got into his truck, and left.
Dean had assumed the reason for not hearing any more of the argument was that the motel walls were better insulated than he'd thought, or that John and Sam had calmed enough to speak at a normal volume.
Dean was wrong.
As he walked into the motel room he found that the clothes from the brother's bags had been thrown on the floor. As well as Sam.
Dean felt is stomach turn as he approached Sam's bloody body, relieved when he felt his brothers strong pulse. Fighting back another wave of nausea, Dean recognized the wounds on his brothers chest, abdomen, and back. They were injuries his father taught him to make when your subject is unwilling to talk. Injuries that posed no health threat to whom they were directed on, only intense pain.
John Winchester tortured his youngest son.
--two weeks before--
Sam saw his father above him with the knife Sam and Dean had gotten for him for fathers day over a decade ago. His strength had been devoured by the pain he felt, he could only whisper Dean's name and hope he would be saved by either Dean or unconsciousness.
A hand combed through his hair and he slowly wake. Dean is there, desperately murmuring I love you's and it's just a dream baby, and Sammy, shh, every thing's going to be fine, I'm here directly into Sam's ear. Sam reached for the hand that seemed to always be there, squeezing his waist, and laced his fingers through Dean's. Sam couldn't help but remember how a little over a week before, it was that hand that caused him to wake screaming, Dean's attempt to hold onto him aggravating the cuts and bruises caused by...
Sam refused to think about that night, so he turned his face and kissed his brother. Remembering why Dean has always been better with actions than words, Sam allowed himself to drift back to sleep with his Dean's soft, comforting lips against his.
Dean however, couldn't sleep, he stayed glued to his brothers side, kissing him softly throughout the night.
--one week before--
Sam woke from a dreamless sleep, grateful that he hadn't had a nightmare, but curious as to what awoke him. The blue light from the table drew his attention. Dean was on the laptop researching the latest thing they were after.
"Dean?"
Dean jumped, he didn't know his brother had woken. Hurriedly, he closed the laptop.
"You don't have to stop researching just to sleep with me." Sam hadn't meant to disturb him.
"Your more important, Sammy."
"You can bring it to bed with you, we can multi task." Sam smiled at his own stupid attempt at humor.
"The hunt doesn't belong in our bed." Sam was shocked and comforted at the same time.
Dean crawled under the covers and wrapped his arms around Sam, completely encircling him in warmth.
Sam drifted off to another dreamless sleep, unaware that Dean had not.
--one hour 'till--
Sam stepped out of the shower, noticing Dean was leaning against the sink, doing his usual Sammy-watching, as he calls it.
"I'm gonna go, talk to a guy I know that might have information. He's only a few blocks away" said Dean, not looking into Sam's eyes.
"Do you want me to come with?" Sam noticed. Maybe Dean doesn't think he's ready to start hunting again.
"Nah, I just gotta talk to him" Dean paused and looks directly into Sam's eyes "and pay him back."
Sam didn't look away. "Are you sure you don't want me to come?"
"Yup" Dean said, smiling, before he wrapped his arms around Sam's waist and took his lips in a heartfelt kiss.
Sam hummed into the kiss, encouraging Dean to do more. When Dean pulled away, smiling, Sam noticed something different hiding in his eye's... But his thoughts were disrupted by Dean.
"You want me to pick up a pizza on the way back? You know, the usual?" Dean asked as he headed out the door.
"Yeah, sure. How long are you going to be?" asked Sam from behind the bathroom door.
"Maybe an hour or two... How about you order the pizza and I'll eat mine cold when I get back." Dean removed his wallet from his back pocket as he spoke. "They might not deliver, so I'm gonna leave the car key's too" Dean said, then Sam heard the door close.
When Sam stepped out of the bathroom, he noticed Dean's wallet and car keys sitting on the bed. An empty spot formed in his stomach.
--twenty minutes 'till--
Sam wished he could kick himself. The way Dean would suddenly say they need to leave and drive for hours while Sam slept, he'd been tracking something. The way Dean had been acting today, the way he acted before he left thirty minutes ago, he was hunting something right now. Alone. He left his wallet and keys.
Sam groaned for the millionth time since he'd started looking in Dean's notebook in an attempt to find what Dean was tracking. All he found were copies of invoices for ammo and a few motel receipts. All of the receipts were from towns they were in, but one motel receipt dated a day before was from this town.
Sam picked up the phone and dialed the phone number on the last receipt.
"Frank's Inn, would you like to book a room?" said the woman on the other line.
"No, but thank you ma'am, My name is Officer Brady, I have a question about one of your guests, a man staying in room number 12."
--ten minutes 'till--
Sam headed out the door with the key's to the Impala, determined to stop Dean from killing their father.
The woman on the phone had described the eldest Winchester to a T. The more she described him, the more Sam felt his stomach turn.
--one minute 'till--
Sam pulled into the parking lot of the motel that John Winchester was staying at. Quickly, he got out of the car and ran to room 12.
"Dean, it's Sam. Stop what your doing and open the door."
After a minute, Sam kicked the door in.
--now--
Dean is standing with his back to the door.
"Sam, I want you to go back our motel." Dean's voice is strangely calm.
"No, I can't let you do this." Sam feels his through closing up. "If you do this, you won't be the same man I love."
Dean's shoulders slump. Holding his breath, Dean turns to face his brother, his lover, his Sam.
Oh god. Dean's face is covered in blood. Looking down at his father, Sam can see where all the blood has come from.
Dean's voice is full of emotion. "He hurt you Sammy. I can't let that go."
Sam swallows and tastes bile. "Yes, Dean, he hurt me. But you don't just want to hurt him." When Dean doesn't move, Sam continues. "You tracked him for four weeks Dean, you mean to kill him."
Dean laughs. "It's funny how I did that, isn't it. I mean, we looked for him for over a year and got nowhere." Dean stops talking briefly, "It's different when he's the prey instead of the prize."
Sam tastes bile again. "Dean. Please. No more, ok? I can't handle this. I can't look at you and think murderer and torturer. If you do this, I won't be able to look at you."
Dean's expression of rage softens, and slowly, he drops the knife his father gave him on his eighth birthday.
Sam smiles as Dean walks towards him. Silent tears falling from his eyes.
"Lets get out of here before the cops come ok?" asks Sam. Dean looks back at a bloody, bound, and gagged John. "Don't worry, he may be a bastard, hut he's not an idiot, right John?"
John weakly nods, surprise showing in his eyes at Sam calling him by his given name.
--three months after--
John Winchester gets a tip from a friend in Texas, Dean and Sam are hunting Chupacabra on the Mexican border.
Turning the key of his truck, John heads east. Away from his boys, away from the only living memory of his beloved Mary.
+Reviews are very nice.