Title: Just my Imagination

Fandom: Supernatural

Author: Rosegirl94

Summary: "Be careful what you wish for, you might just get it", an old proverb Dean has heard countless times, yet after a heated discussion with his father, sixteen-year old Dean makes a wish that could haunt him for the rest of his life. Seems like someone or something was listening this time around.

Warnings: I am no native speaker and this story is unbetaed. Warnings also for violence and bad language (it's a story about the Winchesters after all!). Moreover, I am a total drama queen and I love hurt!Dean (sorry love :*), so yeah, this story is a bad excuse for some hurt!Dean and and guilty!John. I totally love their relationship, their dynamic and their immense trust in each other, no matter what. I think that John really tried his best and that he gave everything he had for the boys but that sometimes just wasn't enough.

Disclaimer: I own nothing but this idea that I wanted to share with you, therefore I do not get money for this. If you have any kind of advice (story or language related), I am open and more than thankful for that. Enjoy the story ?

John had just finished an entry on werewolves in his journal when the unnerving fighting between his boys started yet again. In all fairness, the motel they were currently living in was one of the "shittiest" (not his but Dean's words) they have ever encountered and it didn't help its case that the last "shitty place" (again not John's choice of description) had at least the "Magic Fingers" his oldest adored, yet being short on money John couldn't really afford anything better at the moment, not until his new credit cards arrive. Normally it were John and Sam that were constantly fighting and that were at each other's throat but at the moment Dean totally lived his puberty and Sam looked like an actual angel next to his brother's fits. Being a cocky little smartass that didn't take his curfews too seriously and was stretching his boundaries lately way too much. Just two months ago John had to save the kid's ass after getting drunk way underage at a New York City night club. He thought that the embarrassment of getting caught and having to puke his guts out all night long would be enough punishment and deterrence for the kid but he seemed to have misjudged the situation. Dean was on a roll and he wasn't ready to toe in line just yet.

Sam's irritated voice pulled John out of his thoughts.

"Dean, keep it the fuck down, I have a test on Monday", Sam growled from the boys' room as the volume of the radio had increased enormously over the last minutes.

"Sam, Led Zeppelin. Show some admiration. The song's a classic. 'Sides I don't take orders from a squirt."

"Yeah, but you do from Dad. DAAAAAAD! I can't study, tell him to stop", Sam complained.

"Sam, you are such a baby", Dean further teased his brother.

"Dean, turn the volume down or you have to turn it off entirely", John growled from the kitchen while massaging his aching temples. He had to admit though that it indeed was a good song.

"Fine", Dean hissed and turned the volume down.

It wasn't even five minutes later when the boy's bedroom door opened and Dean stepped out to get some water from the kitchen's tap. He still hadn't got dressed, wearing a black t-shirt and some shorts that were functioning as a pajama for the teen. The sound of his bare foots slapping against the wood floor kind of annoyed John but he was trying to not snap at the kid for something ridiculous as that. He was tired, he admitted to himself, rubbing his eyes with his knuckles before looking back at his research materials. His last hunt was way too long ago and he really felt the need for killing something soon (and he sure as hell didn't want to get turned in for murdering his boys although they were mainly the problem why he couldn't catch up on sleep during the day). Dean turned on the water and began to drink noisily from the tap.

"Get a glass, Dean", John snarled. His eldest just smirked and sat next to his father after wiping his mouth with his a nearby kitchen towel. John rolled his eyes.

"What are you doing?", he asked and when John gave him no response he added, "still no job?"

"Doesn't look like it, does it?", John snapped.

"Just asking", Dean said while raising his hands in defense. John looked through the newspaper again for unsolved mysteries in the area, for anything that might look like it was worth further investigation.

"Don't you have to do something? Homework, laundry? Maybe getting dressed for a start?", John said when Dean still made no attempt to leave him alone.

"Nah, I am bored. 'Sides I like to sit here with you", Dean smirked.

"Dean, seriously. Get dressed and then do something productive."

"Like what? I am grounded, remember?" Right, John thought, now he began to understand. Dean was trying to get a "free out of jail"-card from his father. The constant teasing of Sam over the last days, who by the way was also pissed at John for grounding Dean although for different reasons ("Why do I have to be punished, too, just because Dean's an ass? I can't concentrate with him being around all the time!").

He wouldn't fall for the bait. He should have grounded his son's ass forever for his stunt in NYC, but he let it slide. He knew his son was smarter than to ever pull of a stunt like that ever again but Dean's late behavior seemed to contradict this. He wouldn't fall for the bait. Dean needed to learn he was still a kid and that John was the dad and although he gave him far more responsibility than possibly any other teen had, Dean needed to know his boundaries.

"You could work on your Latin for starters or you could sit down and think about your latest choices", John teased.

"Funny, dad. Really."

John shrugged his shoulders and looked down at the newspaper again. Discussion was over, Dean would probably go soon to his room, pout a while and then read a magazine and listen to some music over his Walkman. John's eyes caught a little article on the left column of the newspaper. Next town over a farmer reported that most of his cattle stockings had died and assured that they were previously at good health. Could be a demonic omen. John took a pen and circled hints in the article until his eldest, who had watched him precisely, spoke up again.

"Dad, I am really sorry. I know that it isn't acceptable in your books to start a fight and everything else lately but–"

"A fight? Dean, you broke the kid's nose. His nose and two ribs", John said and looked up from the newspaper yet again, staring disbelievingly at his son.

"I know, okay, I know and I regret it and … Still, it's not like he was innocent, he grabbed her and –"

"Consider yourself lucky you didn't get expelled. You could have drawn even more attention to us than you already did. 'Your son sure is strong. Doesn't look like it at first, does it?". Told your principle you were into karate", John shook disbelievingly his head, "we both know that you weren't just defending the girl but that that was also something personal between you and him."

Dean pouted at John's words and let the subject drop. For the moment. His father was right. He hated Josh. Since they were living in this crap hole this arrogant bastard was getting on his nerves and yes, would it have been any other guy Dean probably would have just kicked him and would have distracted his attention from Vanessa, but it felt so good, so incredibly good when the bastard started to cry and while it might have been worth his father's disappointment in him, it wasn't worth eight weeks of being grounded and certainly not worth risking CPS.

"Dad?", Dean said after a while of silence, his tone now calm and careful in approaching John.

"Yeah?" John knew by the tone that he wouldn't like the next question.

"Do you think that I could still go to… ehm. Maybe. Can I please… The concert is this weekend, sir and-"

"I know it's this weekend. I got you the ticket, remember?"

"I know. Of course you know. I thought maybe... I cleaned all the weapons voluntarily yesterday and-"

"I thought I told you to sell your ticket", John tried to end the discussion before it really started.

"You did but I thought maybe you would change your mind if I behaved extremely well and I thought it would be a shame if I didn't have a ticket then, you know?", Dean tried again while looking hopefully at his dad.

"Dean, have I ever gone back on my word?"

"No, but… You could ground me for an entire additional month, dad. Please, it's three hours top and I organized a pickup, you don't even have to drive me and I won't be gone for long-"

"Sorry, I am sorry but the purpose of being grounded is punishment, Dean, so no. If it hurts, it is the adequate punishment for your actions. 'Sides I really do not want you any longer in this motel 'cause you are really getting on my nerves. I told you to sell the ticket and save the money for their next concert or whatever, so that is your problem now, kiddo."

"It was my birthday present, dad. I was looking forward to it for months. MONTHS. Why can't I go, please, dad? Just make an exception this one time, please. I won't disappoint you again. Promise."

"Dean, last time, I said no. Now drop it and take it as a lesson to listen to your old man the first time around."

"You are such a hypocrite", Dean replied angrily, tears were in his eyes now and John knew he was hard with the boy but damn if Child Protect Service would come knocking on their door just 'cause his kid couldn't keep his act together and nearly kills someone with his bare fists.

"Stop it now before you get yourself into deeper trouble even. Some of us are trying to be productive, you know?"

"What, you think this article leads you to a case? It's not a case, dad. Anyone in their right mind spots the deception. Stupid man just wants to claim insurance as he forgot to give his cattle enough water or else. I, TOO, read the newspaper, dad."

"We'll see. I think I am going into town now, see what other out of the ordinary things I can spot. You stay here and watch your brother for me", John said as he stretched his arms over his head.

"That is all I am good for, right? Watching my eleven-year-old pain in the ass little brother so that you can go on your fucking crusade", Dean angrily replied.

"Leave it kid or I will kick your ass in less than a minute, understand me?"

Dean huffed. "Hypocrite, like I said. I thought violence is so wrong?"

"Beating your ass is called discipline. Drop it now, last warming", John said, got up and began packing his bag. He has never hit either of his children and he certainly didn't want to start dishing out beatings just now, but damn, if the kid wasn't asking for one.

Dean was right though; it probably, no most definitely, wasn't a case but he itched for some air, for some space between him and his son. Being away from his whining children, drinking some good whiskey in a bar and maybe even have a cigarette or two sounded too promising to not use the opportunity to leave this dam motel room.

"Great, yeah, thanks dad. Talking to you is always really great", Dean said through a hissed voice.

"You think that is all I am good for, right? Being your little obedient soldier, babysitting Sam, keeping my mouth shut and to have your fucking back, right?", Dean's face flushed with anger. He knew he had finally went too far when John forcefully grabbed his wrist.

"You have a freaking death wish or what?" John growled.

"Let go of my arm!", Dean yelled while trying to get free from his father's unforgiving grip.

"Since when do my wishes concern you, huh? But since you are so nicely asking, yeah, sometimes I wish that I have never been a part of this stupid, insincere fucked-up family! You're such a fucked-up, hypocritical father figure and I hate you", Dean yelled and he knew he had hit a nerve when John let go of his arm instantly.

"Go to your room, now! I don't want to fucking see again tonight or I will kill you. Get lost!", John showed Dean towards his and Sam's bedroom with such a force that Dean stumbled. He had never seen his father that angry and Dean knew if he pushed his father anymore, John would probably make use of his thread.

Dean felt bad for his words but they just didn't stop coming out of his mouth. The whole situation was just so unfair. For weeks he had pestered his father about this concert, begged him even to buy him a ticket for his birthday and John kept saying that they didn't have the money, that it wasn't save for Dean and that John didn't feel comfortable letting him go on his own and when he eventually got the ticket for his birthday he felt like the luckiest son of a bitch alive and couldn't believe his luck.

Instead of apologizing to John as Dean wanted to, however, the words "I hate you. I truly hate you" left his mouth to which his father just responded "Get lost, Dean", before grabbing his packed bag, the car keys to the Impala and shutting the door forcefully behind him.