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Two Steps Forward, One Step Back

Summary:

John takes to the bottle when he’s stressed, or angry, or… anything, really. Dean is starting to take after their father and it’s scaring Sam shitless. What is Dean going to do about it?

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Part of an ‘unseen moments’ Teenchesters series.

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“Dad, I’ve been training every day. I’m eating right, I’m building muscle. I’m ready for this.”

 

“For the last time, Dean, no.”

 

“Why? At least give me a reason!”

 

It was so fucking frustrating. Dean had been training nonstop over the past few weeks. He’d gained over ten pounds of muscle in a year. He was ready for this. He was fully capable of hunting beside his father, no matter how dangerous the monster. He was old enough, and he was experienced enough. But still… 

 

“Because I said so!”

 

John was growing angrier. Dean could see it in the way his shoulders tensed and jaw locked. Still, he was desperate enough to keep pushing. John let him go on most hunts, and Dean always excelled.  But suddenly this one was ‘too dangerous?’ Give him a break. He was willing to do anything for this chance; For this opportunity to show his father he was ready. 

 

So, he took a step towards his dad and threw back, “That’s not good enough!”

 

And the way John’s eyes lit up with anger would make a grown man cower in fear. Dean swallowed and tried not to lose his composure.

 

“That’s not good enough?!” John asked harshly, and then he was walking rapidly and powerfully up to Dean, grabbing him by the shoulders, and pushing him up against the wall. Dean’s eyes widened and his stomach flipped. His father asked even louder, daring his son to answer, “That’s not good enough?!” 

 

“John!” Bobby yelled from his seat across the room, but his father didn’t pay him any mind.

 

“Well?” He asked Dean, making dead eye contact and scowling. 

 

“Okay.” Dean breathed out, swallowing around the lump forming in his throat. He was a certified badass, but man, if anyone could scare him, it was John. He whispered, “I’m sorry, sir.” 

 

John unlocked his jaw and took a step back, releasing his grip on Dean’s shoulders. He looked at him as he straightened out his coat and instructed, “Get you and your brother cleaned up. Help Bobby if he needs it. I’ll be back in three days.”

 

John walked right by him, moving towards the door, and Dean grumbled, still frustrated, “Fine.”

 

“Excuse me?” His father barked, whipping around so fast it made Dean flinch.

 

“Yes sir.” He quickly corrected, clenching his fist and digging his nails into his palm.

 

“Good.” John told him, and then he turned his gaze to where Uncle Bobby and Sam were sitting in the other room and gave the only goodbye he knew, “Sam, Bobby.”

 

“Bye dad.” Sam chirped, and Dean sucked in a breath. He wished his brother wasn’t present for all of that.

 

The door slammed behind John and Dean tensed up and grit his teeth so hard he almost bit through his damn lip.

 

“I was thinking we could shoot some cans in the yard, huh?” Bobby suggested with a hopeful smile, “Get some practice in for you boys?” 

 

Sam nodded as he stood up from his seat on the ground, “Sounds good, Uncle Bobby.” 

 

Dean shook his head. He couldn’t do this. He was so angry, so frustrated. Everything hurt and he just wanted it to go away. He made his decision, then. He grabbed his jacket and pulled it over his shoulders.

 

“I’ll order a pizza, how abo-” Bobby froze and stared at Dean. The oldest Winchester was gripping the doorknob and about to step out the door when he was stopped, “Now just where in the hell do you think you’re going?”

 

Dean turned to glare at him with a hard expression and flatly admitted, “To find a bar.” 

 

“And do what, Dean?” Bobby scoffed, “You’re seventeen.”

 

Dean stamped a foot down and placed a hand over his pocket, where his fake ID was settled, and yelled, “Drink it!”

 

And then he was parading out the door, slamming it behind him, and stomping through the lot. He grit his teeth and dug crescent moons into his palms as the frustration radiated off of him in waves. He was halfway through the lot when he heard footsteps pattering behind him. 

 

He jerked his head around and barely stopped himself from rolling his eyes when he saw Sam standing there, out of breath and red in the cheeks. He must’ve run after Dean.

 

“I’m coming with you.” Were the first words out of his little brother’s mouth, and Dean wanted to fucking scream .

 

“No you are not.” He said loudly, and then turned around again and resumed walking. Fast.

 

But the footsteps followed him and then Sam, the stubborn ass he was, refuted, “Yes I am.” 

 

“Sam.” Dean barked, whjipping around and approaching his brother, hoping to scare him a little. He wanted to be fucking alone , he didn’t want to deal with his little fucking brother. He grit his teeth and shouted, “You are staying here. I’m already fucking agitated, just stay out of my goddamn way.” 

 

But Sam just stood his ground and replied, like he had no hesitation at all, “No.”

 

Dean bit down on his lip and reached forward, shoving Sam back just a level above gentle, “You think they’ll serve drinks to you?! A fucking thirteen year old scrawny brat?”

 

Sam raised his brows and scoffed, “Obviously not.” 

 

Dean smiled overly wide, anger rolling off of him, and pointedly said, “Exactly.”

 

And then he turned around and started walking again.

 

And the footsteps followed. 

 

“Sam!” Dean turned on his brother and exploded, pissed off and fucking angry beyond belief. 

 

Sam just shrugged and said, “I’m coming.”

 

“No, you are not!” Dean reached up and pulled at his hair, “Get away!” 

 

“No!” Sam yelled back just as loud, and Dean literally stomped his foot in annoyance.

 

He’d given up so much for Sam. He was never a child for the sake of his little brother. He was always responsible, always a bonus mother and father. He was never a normal teenager. He gave up everything for this kid. And he was seriously this fucking ignorant and greedy? He couldn’t give Dean this one thing back? He couldn’t let him burn off steam? He was… Fuck,. He was selfish

 

“Why the fuck do you want to come?!” Dean asked, eyes big and arms wide in invitation to answer.

 

Sam actually seemed to grow a little more timid. He crossed his arms and looked up through his bangs, telling Dean quietly, “I just don’t think you should be alone right now.” 

 

And man, if that didn’t just add fuel to the fire.

 

“I am a fucking adult, I can be alone whenever I goddamn please.” Dean bit out, “And I definitely don’t need the company of my snot-nosed little brother. Got it?” 

 

“You're seventeen, Dean.” Sam fought back, unphased, “You’re not an adult. And calling me names isn’t going to change my mind.”

 

And why wouldn’t he just leave him alone?!

 

“What the fuck do you want Sam?!” Dean yelled, exasperated at this point, “Can’t you get it through that thick skull of yours that I don’t want to be around you right now!” 

 

Sam stepped forward and yelled, matching his tone, “I don’t care!” 

 

“You are so frustrating!” Dean exploded once again, words like hot lava spilling out of his volcano mouth, “I wait on you hand and foot, but I need this one thing and you won’t let me have it?! Real fucking nice, Sam. Real mature! I thought you were supposed to be the smart one!”

 

And then Sam clenched his jaw, closed his eyes, and said loudly, “Dean, you’re scaring me!” 

 

And that… that made the retort Dean had planned die on his tongue. That shocked him. He blinked at his brother in surprise and swallowed. What?

 

“I don’t want to lose you.” Sam said softly, staring at the ground instead of at Dean, “I wouldn’t survive without you. If it was just me and him.” His brother’s breathing was growing uneven and shaky, “I can’t… I couldn’t…” 

 

“Sam,” Dean furrowed his brows, thoroughly confused, “What the hell are you talking about?” 

 

Sam looked up at him with those massive, dewey doe eyes and it made Dean’s heart hurt.

 

“I can’t lose you. I need you.” Sam told him, his bottom lip starting to quiver just slightly, “And if you keep going down this road, you’re gonna kill yourself and then it’ll just be me, an-an-and it can’t just be me. It can’t just be me. It can-”

 

“Woah!” Dean interrupted his hyperventilating brother, grabbing his shoulders and squeezing firmly, “Woah, woah. Sammy, calm down. Breathe.”

 

Sam was shaking and his words were barely intelligible babbles. He looked fucking terrified, and it was making Dean feel ridiculously guilty. 

 

“Please don’t leave me.” Sam begged, staring him dead in the eyes, “I ca-can’t do any of this by myself. I need you with me. Dean, please.

 

And Dean shook his head in complete disbelief. How did they get to this place? How did he make Sam so scared? Why did his little brother think he was leaving him? His heart was pounding and his stomach hurt. All of the anger was gone and replaced with deep concern.

 

“Look at me.” Dean grabbed Sam’s chin and forced him to look him in the eyes. He said as sincerely and firmly as possible, “I am not going anywhere . I am not leaving you. Don’t you ever be scared of that.” 

 

Sam shook his head and looked down, his breath hitching as he explained through cries, “I don’t think you’ll d-do it by choice, though, Dean. All the drinking… you’re g-gonna wrap yourself around a tree o-or overdose and then I’m gonna have to f-find you dead and…” 

 

Fuck, kiddo.

 

“Sammy, you don’t have to worry about that.” Dean cut him off, his own throat swelling from sympathy, “I know what I’m doing, okay? I’m not gonna kill myself.” 

 

He couldn’t believe that Sam was scared of that. What kind of man was he to make his little brother worry about something like that? God… 

 

“Nobody ever plans on it!” Sam fought back, “You can’t always control it. And I don’t want to be alone, I don’t want to have to burn your body and deal with dad by myself, and wonder about whether you’re in heaven or hell, an-an-and…” 

 

“Jesus Christ, Sam.” Dean cut him off, hearing enough of those horrifying and way-too-young-to-be-thinking-about-those thoughts. He couldn’t do this to Sam. He couldn’t be this guy. Not anymore. He couldn’t be their father. He needed to be there for Sam. So he blinked away the tears stinging in his own eyes and reached up to pet Sam’s hair, “Okay, okay. No more drinking.” 

 

Sam jerked his head back, clearly surprised, and answered, “What?”

 

Dean sighed and repeated firmly, “No more drinking.” 

 

Sam blinked a few times and reached up to wipe the tears away, “Really?”

 

“Fuck yeah, really.” Dean told him, shaking his head and squeezing Sam’s shoulder, “Christ, I would’ve quit sooner if I knew it was freakin’ you out so bad.”

 

Sam looked at him and asked in a soft, uneven exhale, “P-promise?”

 

“I promise.” Dean nodded, mentally crossing his heart, “No more drinking.” 

 

It wasn’t worth seeing Sam this upset. It wasn’t worth making Sam worry about him like that. It wasn’t worth Sam . Period.

 

“Thank you.” Sam hiccuped, and then he laughed a little and reached up to wipe away more of the tears, “Sorry.”

 

Dean furrowed his brows, “What on earth are you apologizing for?”

 

“B-being a pussy.” Sam answered, looking down at the pavement below them, “I shouldn’t be crying. If dad saw me-”

 

“He didn’t.” Dean interrupted immediately, “And I don’t care, Sam. It’s okay. I’m just… I’m sorry I scared you.” 

 

Sam nodded and very quietly responded, “Thank you.” 

 

“You don’t have to thank me.” Dean shook his head, leaning forward and pressing a quick kiss to Sam’s hairline, “Come on, let’s go inside, alright?”

 

Sam nodded, and then they were walking. They made it all the way to the doorsteps, and then Dean paused.

 

“Are you coming?” Sam asked, eyebrows raised in expectation and soft smile hopeful.

 

“Yeah.” Dean scratched at the back of his neck, “Yeah, just give me a sec. I want to enjoy the air for a few more minutes.” 

 

Sam looked hesitant, so Dean smiled softly and assured him, “I’ll just be right out here. Not going anywhere. Promise.”

 

Sam looked down briefly, then back up at Dean, and sighed, “Okay.” 

 

He walked inside, and then Dean collapsed to the ground, buried his face in his knees, and started to cry. He cried for his worrying little brother and his untrusting father. For his lack of freedom and lack of drinks. For Sam. For his dad. For Bobby. And for himself. He cried until the tears hurt and his lips curled into a smile. He smiled for his amazing, caring little brother. For his protective, secretly loving father. For his pseudo uncle who may as well be biological. For his own progress and strength. 

 

He walked inside, eyes red and lips pulled into a smile. Pizza was waiting for him, and in the backyard, he taught Sam some of his prized shooting tricks.

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