Chapter Text
Sam was driving. Rare, but, not concerning.
Dean was in the passenger seat on his phone, one earbud in, the other between his fingers being fiddled with between as his gaze sat scrutinising on the screen.
When Sam yawned for the third time in a row, scoffing in annoyance mid sniffling as he blinked away the wateriness the action had formed in his eyes.
Said eyes began to scan the side of the road for any sign of or a literal sign of a stop nearby. Preferably a motel of some kind, but a gas station or rest stop was also welcome.
Eventually, he saw a small, beat up sign for a cheap looking motel just a few more hours up the road and he signed in relief. His eyes stayed on the road, but his attention shifted to the passengers of the car.
His brother beside him, and the two angels in the back- well, one angel one half angel in the back.
Cas was staring out the window while Jack was just as focused on his tablet as Dean was to his phone- albeit, looking a lot more amused the the latter.
Sam cleared his throat a little and spoke up.
"There's a motel coming up. I'm done and wanna pull up if no one else is looking to drive" he said, receiving very little reaction.
Sam paused and waited for any kind of response. He wasn't really looking for permission, just some kind of acknowledgement that he'd said something at all.
The driver scoffed and hit the passengers shoulder, persuading him to look up from his screen.
"You want to take over at all?" He asked directly.
Dean pursed his lips and scrunched up his nose, shaking his head a little.
"Not really" he huffed.
Sam shrugged "alright. Then we're stopping for the night" he decided, focusing on the upcoming exit and preparing to turn off the highway.
____
Sam sighed as he stepped out of reception, trailing back over to the familiar dark car shadowed by the sunset. He pressed his lips into a thin line, holding up two keys as he approached the vehicle.
Dean quirked an eyebrow and tilted his head.
"What's up?" He reluctantly asked, one earbud still in as he stuffs his phone into his jean pocket.
Sam sighed again, leaning on the roof of the car and looking over it at his brother.
"They only have two rooms left, one with two beds and one with...one" he replied tiredly.
Dean scoffed "seriously?" He grumbled, rolling his eyes a little.
"So I got both. Cas doesn't need to sleep so he can hang around. Just one of us will be sleeping alone" Sam said.
Jack scooped his bag from the back, Cas closing the boot before they both rounded the car to stand beside Dean. Jack smiled over the at Sam, hands clutched to the straps of his newly acquired duffle (which he loved dearly).
"I could take the single room" he offered "you two are used to sharing room, so nothing would change".
"You sure?" Sam fretted, furrowing his brow.
Jack nodded enthusiastically.
"I can watch over him" Cas said, looking up at Sam.
Sam sighed again, looking down at the keys "alright, well-".
"I'll take it" Dean blurted out "I-I mean, doesn't matter right" he added once eyes fell on him, clearing his throat.
Sam's face morphed into a confused expression, scrutinising his brother while looking back and forth from the man before him and the keys in his hand.
"Um...no. I-I guess it doesn't" Sam hesitated.
"Ok, great. One night. Doesn't matter. Lets go. Hand me the keys" Dean quickly stammered, holding his hand over the car.
Sam glanced down at the keys before slowly depositing one in his brother's hand. Who immediately closed his fist around it and took off to the room number displayed on the keys.
Sam's confusion slowly became concern as he watched his brother enter the room without looking back, slamming the door behind him without another word.
He took a deep breath and shook his head, heading around the car and accepting his bag from Cas as the three of them continued to the room beside the first.
____
Dean keeps his earbud in for as long as he can. The music blaring into his mind allowing it to shut off for once, which was a not just welcome, but a very needed relief.
He got out some 'cleaner' clothes from his bag and glanced over at the bathroom door, staring at it with a growing dread in his expression. His heart quickened and his mind started to drown out his music in favour of the rising panic. His breathing picked up and his body went stiff. Images of streaming down, red liquid coating his mind as he stood surrounded by fake gore, the imaginary smell starting to make him sick.
In the end, he couldn't bear the thought of the water on him. Finally calming himself down enough to turn up his music, put his other earbud in and awkwardly change around the cords connecting to his phone.
He bopped his head to the music as he carried his phone around the room while he continued to ready for sleep. Then eventually taking the device with him into the blankets with him, holding it closely to his chest as he slumped onto his back. Though he only remained in that position for a few moments before the feeling of droplets on his face startled him.
He flinched, forcing his eyes to stay closed as he turned onto his side, curling up around his phone, clutching onto it tightly and turning up the volume until it beeped to tell him 'no more'.
The heavy sound in his ears started to make his temples hurt, but at least his brain was empty...mostly. It was empty enough, he was too tired to grab his knife right now, he just wanted to sleep.
___
His slumber eventually drowned out the music again. Though he didn't mind much, mostly because he didn't notice. He laid curled up on his side with music drilling into his ears as he slept peacefully to the sound classic rock, his breathing an even in and out.
But then it hitched. Then he whined, scrunching his face up. He could hear the song muffled though layers and layers of thick blood from where he stood at the end of the hall.
He looked around the familiar surroundings. The off-white hall basked in the red glow of the alarm, and splattered in gore. The smell was strong and rich, probably filling the entire bunker with the stench of fresh death.
He continued forward, adjusting his grip on the knife. It was warm. Too warmer. Warmer than it should be. Almost like it had-.
He snapped around at the sound of flesh hitting the blood covered floor. Seeing the innocent and teary eyes of the Nephilim before him. Bleeding heavily and too weak to get up. He pleaded silently with the monster in front of him as Dean approached, raising the knife and stabbing him in the back of his neck, splattering more blood over his already gory form.
He watched wide eyed as he pulled the knife from the child, blood and flesh sticking to the blade as he pulled away.
His breath shook, eyes looking up to see the familiar scene of their library. Sam and John gutted on the floor while Mary hung from the ceiling by her neck.
He swallowed. Lip quivering as he looked down at the blade in his hand. The angel blade in his hand. It made him wonder where Cas was.
_
He gasped and sat up, trying to scream a jumble of names and it just coming out in a choked whimper.
He shook violently and started to cry. Sobbing as he leaned in on himself. Fists resting against his forehead as he let tears fall into his lap. His music had stopped at some point. He didn't know why and right now he didn't care. He didn't care about anything. He didn't deserve to care.
"Dean?" A small voice squeaked.
Dean choked on a sob and looked up. The room still covered in fake blood as he tried to lock onto the dark figure towards the end of the bed.
Dean sniffled and wiped his face, his breathing evening out a little as he squinted at the figure.
"Jack?" He questioned, voice gruff and still somewhat shaky.
Jack was clear now, even in the dark room around them.
"Are you ok?" The kid asked, tilting his head a little.
Dean sniffled again and panicked. Nodding quickly and looking away to wipe oncoming tears.
"Ye-yeah-yeah. I'm-I'm good" he choked.
Jack may be young, but he definitely wasn't an idiot (even if he can be a little naive).
The boy furrowed his brow and laid scrutinising eyes on Dean, straightening his puppy tilted head.
"You...definitely don't seem good" he noted.
Dean cleared his throat and tried to look back over, sniffling again.
"What-what are you even doing here, kid? You're supposed to be with Sam" he deflected. Which seemed effective since Jack immediately went timid.
Looking down and hiding whatever he had in his hands while the guilty puppy eyes made an appearance.
Dean tilted his head, leaning forward a little bit and squinting.
"I-I" Jack stammered, looking up briefly before his gaze fell again "I-...I knew you had snacks in your bag and I..." he looked back up, his guilty look intensifying as he met Dean's gaze "and I wanted some" he admitted, pouting a little.
Dean scrunched up his face a little, tilting his head at the boy.
"Um...you..." Dean stammered.
"I'm sorry" Jack mumbled.
"No. No thats...fine" Dean cleared his throat, swallowing the forming lump in his throat his gaze drifted out of focus.
The room was completely coated in layers of imaginary blood, Jack included. The image of a wound sticking though the Nephilim's neck, accompanied by bruises and cuts covering his face, making it hard to look at him.
"You're not ok, are you?" Jack guessed, brow furrowed.
"I'm fine" Dean huffed weakly, eyes sliding shut.
"How can I help?" Jack whispered, putting the snacks down and moving to sit up. Eyes pouring into Dean with a pleading gaze.
Even with his eyes shut, Dean could feel the look Jack was giving him and it was burning. His chest hurt from holding back sobs and his throat was attempted to force out gasps, his tear ducts filling with salty liquid threatening to spill out.
"Please let me help" Jack's voice echoed in his mind, along with the sound of his Mother's blood dripping from the ceiling.
The hunter was shaking, the motion only intensifying the more he tried to still himself.
His lip quivered wildly as he tried to speak. A sob forced its way out with one of the gasps trapped in his throat. Then he could no longer stop it.
The tears came. Trailing down his cheeks onto his lap as sob after sob disturbed his breath and forced him to gasp. His entire body shaking as both hands grasped the opposite bicep tightly.
He had wanted to insist the kid just leave him alone. It was clear he wasn't doing then now.
Jack perked up and got to his feet. Rounding the bed and crawling up onto it beside Dean, sitting awkwardly beside the older man as he cried.
When he'd gotten up, Jack was sure he knew how to help. But know that he's faced with the problem directly, he has no solution nor plan. He was literally a toddler after all. So used to being the one hugged and comforted, he didn't feel equipped to be on the giving end. But he knew he had to try.
Jack took a deep breath and hesitantly reached out a hand that shakily made contact with Dean's back, causing the man to flinch. Jack pulled back, clutching his hands to his chest. Jack felt his eyes start to well and willed his tears away. He had to be strong right now. He had to help. Like how everyone does for him.
"Dean?" He said softly, leaning in a little with his hands still to his chest.
Dean sniffled and moved a hand up to cover his face. The wetness on his cheeks felt warm, deluding his sick mind into seeing it as blood, tightening his chest further and forcing more tears. He felt like he was choking, and part of his wished he was.
Jack swallowed, gaze shakily finding the bracelets on Dean's wrist, the on still clutched to his bicep. Jack pulled a tensed hand away from its safe place against his collar bone and slowly reached across Dean's lap, a finger hesitantly looping under the beads and taking a gentle hold of the accessory.
Dean's breath hitched and he lowered his hand from his face a little, his eyes opening. He looked down at the kid's hand on his arm, fingers fiddling with the bracelet.
Dean sniffled and managed to smile at it, though everything was still coated in blood. He looked up at Jack, who was focused on the bracelet, though he eventually met Dean's eyes.
Dean lifted his hand from his bicep, taking Jack's hand with him as he moved the decorated arm up to the boy's shoulder. Hand feeling his neck and fingers prodding under his jaw. Jack continued to play with beads while Dean focused on the gentle beating under his fingers. Each beat helping to rid Jack of the imaginary wounds.
After a while Dean took a deep breath and dropped his hand. Jack's hand remained on the beads as Dean slide his hand out of the bracelet. His fingers reached to pull it apart and push it out of Jack's hand and onto his wrist. It seemed a little big, but it fit well enough to not fall off.
Jack looked down at the decoration now on his wrist, bringing his other hand over to fiddle with it for a moment before his gaze snapped up to Dean.
His brow furrowed and his head tilted "are you ok?" He repeated, knowing the answer will probably be another lie.
"Yeah" Dean rasped, reaching up to ruffle the boy's hair.
He sniffled before giving a smile "Want some snacks?" He asked, raising his eyebrows.
Jack's face took a moment to light up but eventually it did and he nodded.
Dean nodded back and got off the bed, trekking to his back and picking up the discarded treats from the top of it. He examined them before chucking a chocolate bar in Jack's direction, starting to come back over as well.
Jack caught the bar and shuffled a little to get comfortable while Dean switched on the TV. Turning the volume low and letting whatever was on play as they snacked in silence surrounded by the dark, not bloody motel room.