Titel: The Rules of Desperation
Series: Family-Bounds-Verse, Part 3
Autor: Leya
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Azazel/Dean (implied), Sam, John
Disclaimer: All the characters are the sole property of Kripke & Co. I'm only playing with them.
Word Count: 2.200
Rating: R
Warnings: violence (implied), mpreg

Six months since Dean made his deal with the Yellow-Eyed-Demon. Six months full of guilt and self-reproach for his family. How can they live with the knowledge of being responsible for Dean's sacrifice? Sequel to 'The Loss of Light.'

- - -

John left the small log cabin hidden in the woods a few miles behind an insignificant backwater town and let his gaze wander over the small yard, where grass, bushes and trees proliferated in each and every direction.

For a long moment he stood on the rotten planks of the front porch, unsure of what to do next.

It was more than obvious that the house had been empty for several years. Whoever had lived here in the past, they were long gone, leaving nothing behind except of several broken pieces of furniture and the obligatory cobwebs.

On his way to the cabin John had tried his best not to be to hopeful but although his mind told him that he was just deceiving himself, all his efforts to keep his emotions under control turned out to be futile. He found himself praying for a wonder, hoping that now would be this one time fate wasn't against him even if he was all too aware of the possibility to be on the wrong track.

And then he was actually there, kicking down the door of the cabin, barging in and facing nothing. In this moment his worst nightmare had come true.

He should have known that his trip out here would be a waste of time but it had been the only trail for them to follow, their first hint of Dean's whereabouts since his oldest son sold himself to the Yellow-Eyed-Demon.

Looking at the deserted house John once more asked himself when his life had gone so terribly wrong. Six months before they lost Dean and John still couldn't believe what happened. Their lifelong hunt for the Yellow-Eyed-Demon came to sudden ending the very moment this vile creature tricked his eldest son into making a deal with him.

Everything to protect his family.

Closing his eyes in defeat John allowed himself for the first time in six months to acknowledge his failure. Dean was gone. Lost. Forever.

And it was his fault.

If only he had been a better father. If only he had paid his sons more attention. If only he had listened to his eldest son, tried to unterstand and help him. But he never really saw Dean until it was too late. No. Being honest with himself for the first time in nearly twenty years John had to admit that since the fateful moment he placed little Sammy in Dean's arms and told him to run it had been too late.

Too late for Dean to achieve his dreams, too late for him live a life of his own. By placing his baby-brother in the arms of his eldest son and telling, no ordering, him to protect Sam no matter what the cost may be, he laid the foundations for Dean's insecurity, his self-consciousness and his self-destructive tendency to please his father and make him proud by being a good little soldier.

John swallowed repeatedly but the lump in his throat just wouldn't go away. Of course he knew what Sammy called his brother when he thought their father wasn't listening. He knew that Sammy laughed about Dean's desperate efforts to hold their family together. Too selfish to regard Dean's feelings at least a little bit Sammy sometimes loved to make Dean miserable, loved to show him that he wasn't needed and that he, unlike his big brother, was independent enough to go his own way.

Just like he had done six months ago... and so many times before.

The elder Winchester especially remembered one of those rare times they actually rented a house and stayed in one place for several months in a row.

It had been the end of the term and Sammy, happy to be top of the class, couldn't resist taunting Dean about his rather low grades. The youngest Winchester gleefully mocked his older brother, called him stupid and laughed outright in his face when Dean admitted that his grades were barely good enough for him to pass.

He should have interfered but John had been so caught up in his own little world of revenge and despair that he never showed any kind of interest for things concerning the 'normal life'. Instead of being the father both his sons needed he forced them to follow him, moving all over the country in his delusional quest for revenge. Year after year he had spend more and more time on various hunts, leaving his sons behind and Dean, still a small child himself, with the responsibility to take care of his little brother.

All those years Dean did his best to replace his mother and John never even realised it. He and Sammy took Dean for granted and instead of making them acknowledge his achievements everything Dean did just increased their indifference.

Dean cared for them and made sure they had everything they needed. Every time John came home from his work in the garage Dean saw to that a cold beer was waiting for him. Not only he cooked for his father and little brother but also managed all the housework and the shopping, controlled Sammy's homework, walked his younger brother to school and back, while trying his best not to fail his own classes.

And not once, in all those years, John ever bothered to say thank you. He never told Dean how proud he was and he never asked what Dean wanted to do in his life. Sammy always had been very clear about his goals in life but Dean, shy, withdrawn Dean defined himself over his family. All his life he craved nothing more than a family. His father and brother were those who made Dean happy. It never mattered for him if they lived in a house or the crappiest motel they could find. As long as his father and brother were there it was home.

Someone to belong to was all Dean ever wanted but his family never cared. Sam and his father used every chance to butt their heads about inanities, neither of them willing to back down and to self-absorbed to realise what their constant fighting did to Dean.

The two people Dean loved more than anything in the whole world did everything to break Dean's innocent little dream of a family to pieces, trampling down all his hopes and wishes and with every fight ripping his already torn soul more and more apart.

Realisation brought another disturbing thought to his mind and John found himself on the verge of tears when he finally became aware of the fact that Dean had every reason to leave them behind.

No. He wouldn't go there. Not now, not ever. There was no need to give up. They would find Dean and bring him back. Period.

Scolding himself to get a grip he threw the cabin a withering look and walked over to his truck. Climbing inside he closed the door with unnecessary force and weighted his options.

Sooner or later he had to tell Sammy about their latest failure so there was no use in stalling the inevitable but John wasn't sure if he was ready for another of their horrendous arguments yet. Maybe he never would be. Since Dean's sacrifice his youngest son had changed and for the first time in his life John had to admit that Sam's cold and ruthless demeanor actually frightened him.

Alone the way Sammy had achieved the information about the cabin made John's skin crawl. It seemed that losing his brother had literally pushed his younger son over the edge. The images of the unholy ritual Sam used to learn about Dean's whereabouts were deeply imprinted in John's mind. Sometimes he even dreamt about the bloody runes painted on the walls of Bobby's cellar illuminated by dozens of black candles...

Shaking himself quickly out of his unpleasant memories and too worn out to deal any further with the omnipresent feeling of guilt and self-reproach John finally dialled his youngest son. Right after ringing for the first time Sammy answered the call.

„Dad?"

All of a sudden the world seemed to close in on him and in a voice, he didn't recognise as his own, John croaked: "No."

In the silence following his confession he could hear Sam breaking down. A painful sob escaped his son and John wished there was something for him to say but since Mary died he never had been able to express his emotions and so he did the only thing he always did when he tried to comfort his sons: burying everything too painful to deal with deep inside him and masking his broken heart by acting like the coldblooded and callous soldier his younger son always accused him to be.

"Don't act as if you're a little girl, Sammy! Dean would have wanted for you to be strong and finish what we've started. It's not over and when we track this Yellow-Eyed bastard down he'll pay."

"Yeah, dad! Always the fearless hunter! You talk as if Dean is already dead!" Sam spat his ear and John found himself involuntarily backing away from all this hate and venom he heard in his youngest voice.

"Sammy..."

Never before he had felt so helpless. The unbearable pain of being responsible for losing his son had already made his life a living hell. Every waking hour he remembered the fateful moment when he fell prey to the yellow-eyed-bastard who killed his wife, remembered how careless he had been and how easily it had been for the demon to take over. His stubborn believe to be prepared for everything, to know exactly how to defend himself, his sheer arrogance, they all had made him an easy target.

And Dean had once more paid the price.

"When you hadn't been too stupid to take care of yourself nothing would have happened! But you just had to go and get yourself possessed! Now he's gone and it's your fault!"

Of course Sam not only had to rub it in, but also made it sound as if he killed his own son.

"I won't be spoken to like that, boy! It's your fault just as much as it is mine. And you bloody well know it!" John shot back, his tone now equally nasty but he knew that just before Dean considered to make a deal with their nemesis Sam had once more pushed his brother away.

"Fuck you, dad! You can't even admit that it was your stubbornness and narrow-minded wish for revenge that started this whole mess we're actually in!"

Jesus.

They were doing it again. Fighting and tearing out each other's throat, each trying to make his point of view clear to the other and again forgetting the only important thing in their life: Dean.

"You're right."

Astonished John blinked a few times before he realised that he had spoken out loud and his son finally was opening up to him.

"I know that it's my fault, Dad! Don't think I'm not aware of my failure. I just thought that when I told him to take care of himself Dean would listen to me. But I should have known better and now everything's fucked up." Suddenly the voice on the other end of the line sounded so young and forlorn that John wanted nothing more than to take his son into his arms and hold him until his pain subsided.

"I'm useless, Dad", Sam whispered nearly inaudible into the phone. He sounded ashamed of himself. "No visions, nothing. I'm trying and trying but they just won't come. I can't find him and it's driving me insane."

"I know, Sammy. I know." Not knowing what happened to their son and brother had been like living every day of the past six months in hell for the both remaining Winchesters. Literally.

"I can't go on like this any longer." A resigned sigh brushed against his ear. "And that's the reason I have to go."

It took several seconds for John to register what Sam just told him but then he grabbed his phone so hard he heard the plastic crack in his grip. "What are you talking about? Sam? Talk to me, son! Please..."

The dialing tone of an interrupted connection caught John off guard. Staring disbelievingly at the now silent phone in his hand he eventually placed it on the front passanger seat and for long moments he just sat there, tears blurring his vision, before he gave in to his churned up emotions and by letting his head sink down on the steering wheel John Winchester began to cry.

tbc