Time to Heal the Pain

Title: Time to Heal the Pain
Author: Darkestangel
Summary: Dean and John begin to reestablish their relationship
Author’s Website: www.darknessprevails.com
Comments: darkestangel@darknessprevails.com
Archive: Yes, to Supernatural archive, yes to others with permission
Warnings: WINCEST
Pairing: Dean/John
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: none in this sequel
Disclaimer: Supernatural belongs to Warner Bros., Wonderland Sound and Vision, McG, Eric Kripke, and Robert Singer. I am only borrowing their characters for my own personal pleasure and no permanent harm will come to them.
Author’s Notes:
1. This is a SHORT sequel to Bittersweet Reunion (no longer than three or four parts). You will definitely need to read that series before reading this sequel. You can find the story here: Bittersweet Reunion
2. This story is officially A/U since the season two premiere “killed” off a certain main character, and I refuse to change my storyline to accommodate this ridiculous causality.
3. The Epilogue and flashbacks to Bittersweet Temptation are in italics


******************************************
Epilogue-Six months later

El Paso, Texas

Dean leaned up against the side of the Impala watching Sam as he walked towards the gas station bathroom. Dean watched as the numbers methodically clicked on the gas pump wishing that their trip to El Paso had been more successful, but they had ended up losing a little girl on their latest hunt; unable to stop the freakish man who could transform himself into a killer dog before it was too late. The melancholy of the trip out of El Paso had allowed Dean to think about the demon and his dad; both of which had been absent from his life for the last six months. The demon had not reared its ugly head for nearly half-a-year and there had been not one iota of communication from his father as well. As far as Dean was concerned, both his father and the demon had disappeared off the face of the Earth.

Dean watched as the numbers on the tank stopped moving signifying that the refurbished Impala’s tank was filled to the rim with gas. He removed the nozzle, placed the cap back on the tank, and placed the nozzle back onto the pump. He slipped around the side of the car, got in behind the wheel, and waited patiently for his brother to finish up in the bathroom and to pay for the gas. He remembered that he had heard his phone ring during the hunt but had ignored the call because his hands were full of crispy-fried dog flesh. He reached inside his pocket for his phone and saw that he had a message:

“Son, I know that you told me to never contact you again, but I think that I’ve found the demon again. Dean, I know that you hate me and never want to see me again, but I think that I’m over my head. I don’t have the Colt and I’m all alone out here. I’m in Flagstaff, Arizona if you find that you can stomach to see me again. Be careful…it knows I’m looking for it still and you two boys have the only defense against it.”

Dean clutched the phone in his hand hearing the message over and over again in his head angry that his father would put him in such an impossible position. How was he to ignore a call for help from the man who had once been the most important person in his life? Yet, how could he willingly place himself back into John Winchester’s life; a life of lies and deceit?

The passenger door was ripped open and immediately drew Dean back to his immediate surroundings. They were at a dusty gas station on the outskirts of El Paso with nothing but Interstate Ten and an armadillo or two as a landscape. “All set?” he asked his younger brother.

“Yep, I got you a Coke and some gummy bears,” Sam teasingly smiled.

“Jerk,” Dean moaned taking the gummy bears out of Sam’s hands and eagerly tearing open the package. He placed the Coke between his legs and placed the gummy bears on his thigh before pulling out of the gas station lot towards the Interstate. He stared hard at his choices:

I-10 East: San Antonio

I-10 West: Tucson

“What you waiting on?” Sam asked popping the top on his own Coke.

After much inner debate, Dean’s choice was made and he softly smiled, “Nothing like the desert in late May.”

Sam watched as Dean got onto the Tucson exit ramp and proceeded to drive towards the setting sun. “Why this way?”

Dean stared at the road as the Impala raced towards the west, “I found us a gig.”

“Really, where’s it at?” Sam excitingly asked.

Dean looked over at Sam and grinned, “Flagstaff.”

Sam’s brows arched in surprise, “As in Arizona?”

“That’d be the one,” Dean smirked.

“What’s in Flagstaff?” Sam asked popping a handful of Fritos into his mouth.

Dean reached into the gummy bag, “That’s a surprise Sammy boy.” He put a few gummies into his mouth and chewed happily secure in his decision to head towards his father and the demon.

“A good surprise or a what the fuck have you gotten us into surprise?” Sam asked apprehensively.

“Probably a little of both,” Dean honestly answered. “But trust me Sam…have I ever steered you wrong?”

Sam’s mouth gaped open in shock, “Are you serious with this shit? Do you really want me to start rambling off all the crap you’ve gotten us into?”

Dean laughed, “Forget I asked.” He took one final look over at his brother, “But seriously, will you just trust me on this one?”

Sam flicked off the Frito crumbs from his shirt onto the car’s carpet, “Yeah, it’s all good dude.”

Dean watched in alarm as his brother swiped the crumbs onto the floor, “Sam! I just got my baby back together and it is so not cool to wipe your corn-smelling chips on her floor…and keep your greasy hands off her leather.”

Sam grinned at his brother’s rampage, placed his head against the headrest, and closed his eyes. He was glad that his plan had worked and that his father had followed his advice. John had called Sam first informing him of the demon’s location and his need to talk to Dean and it was Sam’s suggestion that he call Dean with a brief explanation and a location. It would be ultimately up to Dean if we wanted to see John again, and Sam liked the idea of giving Dean the final choice. At the same time, Sam wasn’t thrilled with the possibility of his brother and his father becoming intimate again, but he couldn’t stand to see Dean so miserable all the time, and he hoped that things would be different this time around with Dean calling the shots.

**************************************
Flagstaff, Arizona-3 PM

Both Winchester brothers stared at room number sixteen waiting for their father to arrive at the flea-bag motel. Dean had earlier confessed to his brother that the real reason why they were in Flagstaff was because of the demon and their father while Sam had confessed that he had known Dean’s intentions the entire time. Dean had felt slightly betrayed at Sam’s secretive relationship with their father over the last six months, but he knew that the men were only trying to allow him to make an important choice for the first time in his life.

Sam stared at the number sixteen barely hanging onto the dusty sun-baked door and absently wondered what it must have been like for Dean to have been touched and molested by their father on his sixteenth birthday. Sam clenched his jaw tight in anger and almost demanded for Dean to leave before their father arrived, but he knew that it was crucial for Dean to make the choices tonight; not their father and certainly not his meddlesome younger brother. Sam tried to imagine that John was capable of being a tender and loving lover, but all Sam could see in his head was the vision of his brother being raped by the demon that was in possession of John Winchester’s body on that faithful night all those months ago.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Sam asked his uncharacteristically quiet brother. “Are you sure that you’re ready for this?”

“No,” Dean whispered. “But it’s something I have to do.”

“Are you going to let him touch you again?” Sam asked hesitantly.

Dean refused to look at his inquisitive brother and continued to stare at the motel door, “I don’t know…right now, I just want to reconnect with him on my own terms, and the demon has made that possible.”

“Are you ready to face that thing again?”

Dean slowly looked over at his brother, “Are you Sammy? Are you ready to feel his darkness in your mind again?”

“It wouldn’t be stupid enough to possess one of us again,” Sam reasoned not missing the fact that Dean had essentially ignored the question.

“I know that, but I’m thinking that your psychic-boy skills have made you more intuitive to dark energy,” Dean began. “More open to feeling their presence.”

“I have no way of knowing that,” Sam argued. “I didn’t feel anything when it was inside Dad until it was too late, and I have a feeling that you would recognize it if you encountered it again.”

“Right,” Dean chuckled. “Just like I recognized it inside you at the hospital.”

Sam looked at the hood of the Impala noting the light sheen of desert sand that coated the newly painted car and worried that their father could be once again possessed, “How are we going to know if it’s inside Dad or not?”

“Start mumbling some Latin exorcism shit or something because we already know Holy Water doesn’t work on this bastard,” Dean replied slightly pissed off that the demon was so hard to recognize and defeat. “I guess I could always shoot him with the Colt and kill Dad in the process.”

“It might be good for you to vent out some of your anger,” Sam joked.

“You know I couldn’t ever do that, don’t you?” Dean asked sadly. “I begged you not to shoot Dad even after everything he did to me that night. How the hell would I be able to do it now?”

Sam flashed an apology with his eyes, “I know Dean. I couldn’t kill him either; that’s why he has a permanent limp instead of being a pile of ashes underneath a funeral pyre.”

Both boys’ thoughts were interrupted by the sound of tires on gravel as their father pulled into the parking lot. Dean timidly watched as his father stopped the beaten up truck beside his newly refurbished Impala and swallowed hard in nervousness. Dean’s eyes met John’s for an instant when his father turned his head to the side to look at his boys. His father looked older with a few more grey hairs in his beard and a few more lines around his eyes, but his eyes were sparkling in excitement at the moment. Dean gave John a small smile before stepping out of the Impala to face the man who had controlled him his entire life.

John took in Dean’s appearance as he stepped out of his truck. The younger man was still breathtakingly beautiful but there was a dullness in his eyes; an obvious sadness that followed Dean wherever he went. John tore his eyes from Dean not wanting to feel that same sadness in his soul. He had spent the last six months miserable without Dean but today he felt alive and happy for the first time in months, and he refused to let Dean take that euphoria away even if he was the cause of John’s happiness.

“She looks amazing!” John exclaimed as he took in the appearance of the once mangled Impala. “You and Sam did this?”

“Me mostly,” Dean softly replied. “It was therapeutic for me, and you know Sam would have better luck coming up with an alternative fuel source than finding his way around an engine or a tool box.”

“Smart ass,” Sam grinned playfully. “You look good Dad.”

“You too Sammy,” John replied looking intently at his youngest. “How you been doing?”

“Not bad, still trying to feel out these psychic powers I have, but I think I’m starting to get the hang of them,” Sam responded.

“How about you kiddo,” John asked his eldest son.

“Just peachy,” Dean lied, “Never better.”

Sam and John exchanged knowing looks, “That’s good to hear. I’ve been worried about you two alone with that demon running around.”

“Didn’t seem to bother you before,” Dean cruelly replied.

“I didn’t know it was back in town when I left you Dean…you know I would have never left you alone to fight that thing…” John began.

“And that’s why we’re here for you now,” Dean interrupted. “So, where’s the bastard at?”

John could see that Dean was all business and didn’t want to push the wrong buttons, “There have been signs of his presence; freak weather patterns, cow mutilations, strange disappearances, it’s only a matter of time before it comes after some baby and its family.”

“Simple enough,” Dean snapped. “Sammy here will have one of those physic dreams of his like he did in Salvation, lead us to the bastard, and you blow it away with the Colt.”

“Dean, you know I can’t just turn the dreams on and off,” Sam complained. “And I wish you would stop acting so blasé about this.”

“Blasé,” Dean smirked. “Well excuse me Mr. Sophisticated…how else would you like me to act, terrified?”

“I see you two haven’t changed one bit,” John smiled fondly at his bickering children. “However, Sam it would be easy as hell if you could do what Dean suggested.”

“Fine, just let me go and meditate on having a head-splitting vision while the two of you do research on all the soon to be six-month old babies in this town,” Sam huffily replied.

“Already done,” John replied. “There are fourteen children in Flagstaff who are going to turn six-months old this week.

“Give me the list of names,” Sam began. “Maybe one of the names will trigger a vision.”

John reached inside his jacket pocket and handed Sam the list and addresses of the children, “That’s all of them.”

Sam scrolled down the list of names none of which triggered any reaction, “Are you sure this is all of them?”

“It’s all the children born in this town,” John reassured his youngest. “So far, all of the children have been naturally born in the towns they were taken from so this should be all of them.”

“So, why don’t you take the list, do some house visits, and see if one of them makes your head split nearly in half,” Dean suggested.

“What are you two going to do?” Sam asked in trepidation.

“You know…the normal stuff dads and sons do.” Dean softly grinned. “I thought he could take me to a Diamondbacks game, maybe buy me a beer or two, and let me fill up on hotdogs and nachos.”

“You and your normal shit,” John teased. “Dean, why can’t you be more like your brother; carefree, spontaneous, and loathing anything normal?”

“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with normal,” Sam defended recognizing the obvious insult to his desire for normalcy.

“Yes there is!” Dean and John replied simultaneously.

“Forget it. I’m out of here, and I’m taking the Impala not that piece of shit truck,” Sam insisted holding out his hand so that Dean could give him the keys.

“Hell no,” Dean growled. “I just got her back together and I am not letting your corn-chip smelling greasy hands near her.”

“Then we go together while Dad goes to that baseball game by himself,” Sam said determined to get his way.

Dean looked back and forth between his dad and the Impala wondering which he needed and loved more. They were both an extension of each other, and as long as one of them was in his life he’d never be lonely, but he already repaired the damage done to his precious car and now it was time to repair his dad. “Fine, but if you get one scratch on her I will…”

“Blah, blah, blah,” Sam interrupted grabbing the keys from Dean’s hand. “I know, you’ll chop me up into little pieces using a butter knife and feed me to the gators in Florida.” Sam opened the driver side door and sat down into the warm leather seat, “I’ll give you two a call if I get anything.”

“You take care of yourself,” John remarked. “Watch your back.”

“You too,” Sam responded before starting the car up and smiling as it roared to life. He slammed the transmission into reverse and peeled rubber as he left the parking lot.

Dean watched as the tires on the Impala spun on the asphalt sending thin clouds of dark grey dust and gravel up into the air. “I’m going to kill him.”

“No you’re not; castrate him maybe, but not kill him,” John grinned. “Who else would you have to pick on and make fun of?”

“Good point,” Dean replied suddenly feeling nervous around his father He looked down at his feet unexpectedly enthralled with a smudge on his left toe boot. “Seriously, what you want to do?”

John placed a finger underneath Dean’s chin and raised it so that he could look at his son’s face. He looked intently and took a moment to appreciate the long lashes, the moss-colored eyes, splashes of freckles across golden cheeks, and full pouty lips. He swallowed down his excitement determined to play by Dean’s rules, “How about we try to reconnect?”

“We could try that,” Dean began. “But on my terms.”

“Not a problem,” John beamed brightly smiling so widely that it hurt.

Dean rolled his eyes at his father’s apparent giddiness, “Why do I have a feeling that this whole day is going to have chick-flick moment written all over it?”

“I’ll suffer through a million cheesy chick moments if it means I get to have you back in my life,” John commented wanting to take Dean into his arms but knowing that Dean had to make the first move.

Dean’s cheeks flushed in embarrassment at his father’s words. “Please unlock this motel door and get me out of public view before you turn into Richard Gere and love lifts us up where we belong.”

John laughed loudly and grabbed the motel key out of his jacket pocket, “I’d probably drop you anyway. You look like you’ve gained some weight.”

“Excuse me!” Dean exclaimed pissed to all hell and back that his dad was calling him fat. “Are you calling me fat asshole?”

John put his hands up in mock surrender laughing on the inside at Dean reaction, “I was just kidding Dean. If anything you look like you’ve lost some weight.”

Dean playfully punched his father in the arm, “Get this door open old man before my skinny ass beats you down to the curb.”

*********************************************

Sam drove north on highway 180 thinking about John and Dean. He had left his family at the Sitting Bull Motor Lodge despite his gut instinct to not leave them alone. He knew that they both wanted to reconnect but deep down inside Sam couldn’t stomach the idea of his brother and father together in a sexual manner. For six months, Sam had relived that night in the cabin second guessing his decisions and wondering how things would have been different if he had killed his dad in the cabin that night instead of just shooting him in the leg. Would Dean have ever forgiven him for killing their father? Would the demon be out of their lives forever?

Sam could still hear the demon using his brother’s body and smell the strong stench of semen and musk that filled the bedroom in the cabin. Sam had innocently opened the door when he heard muffled sounds wondering if his father was okay after being held by the demons. What he saw in that bedroom still made him sick to his stomach to this day; especially after discovering that the man fucking his brother was the demon possessing his dad, but at the time Sam had thought that what he was witnessing was consensual sex between his father and brother.

“That’s it Dean. Spread those legs for Daddy.” John moaned.

Sam watched in horrid fascination as his father’s throbbing cock impaled his brother’s spit-coated asshole. He wanted to turn away but the sight of his brother spread open and being fucked was just too disgustingly enticing.

“I love you baby. You make Daddy feel so good,” John purred. “Love your fucking body, love your fucking hole…yeah, you love this too don’t you.”

“Fuck yes…it feels so good,” Dean moaned loudly.

Sam clenched his fist tightly thinking what a slut his big brother was and tried to turn to leave once again.

“Going to fill you with my seed baby…going to make you all nice and wet, so I can sink right back inside you later on tonight,” John managed to say as he nailed his son’s sweet ass to the mattress.

“Umm…that’s so fucking hot, give it to me,” Dean begged licking his lips.

Sam stared in disgust as his father’s body stilled inside Dean’s hole obviously shooting his release inside his perverted brother’s ass.

John eagerly shot his warm creamy load inside Dean’s greedy body, “There it is yeah…you feel how hot you make your Daddy.” John pulled out of Dean’s dripping hole and made his way down towards Dean’s cock, “Now let’s see what Daddy can do about this little problem you have.”

Sam managed to leave the room as quietly as he had entered and promptly threw up his lunch. It was only later on that he learned the truth about what he had witnessed, and he had felt nothing but disgust with himself for thinking the worse of his brother. Dean had not been a willing participant in that bedroom. He had been a victim who had been humiliated and defiled by the demon’s words and actions.

Sam shook his head in an attempt to clear his head and looked at the first address on the list. Hopefully, doing some driving and researching some leads in the case would get his mind off what his brother and father could be doing at that very moment. “God Dean, I hope you know what the hell you’re doing because I’m having some serious doubts about you two getting back together.”

Sam drove for another five miles until he came to Sullivan Avenue. He located the first family’s house and parked across the street from the two-story brown house waiting for a vision or some other sort of other sign. He thought about calling Dean just so that he could interrupt whatever was happening at the motel, but he knew that his concerns would have to wait on the backburner. The decision to hook backup with John was Dean’s responsibility not his own, and for all he knew, Dean and John were just reconnecting as father and son; not lovers.

“Yeah, like that would ever happen,” Sam frowned. He knew deep down John Winchester would pretend to let Dean call the shots, but he knew that eventually his father would take back over the reigns because that was what he did best. Being in control of everything was John Winchester’s standard operating procedure, and Dean had never been able to resist his father’s iron fist so why should this time be any different?


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