Casualties of Conscience chpt 8

By J. A. Carlton

aka sifichick

Disclaimer: see chpts 1-7 etc

Love: Yah shure yew betcha schnookums

I'm putting it here because I don't want to ruin the flavor of the ending - begging on bended knee (see! Look!) for reviews here. This fic wormed its way into my heart and means more to me than I meant it to. (caring like that can hamper creativity sometimes) so in the interest of honing the craft and finding out where my peers stand... I'm asking earnestly for those reviews. Oh yeah, and if anything isn't clear, please feel free to message me and I will explain, now that the cards are being put on the table. Thanks in advance. Sifi. That said... let the ending begin.

"... so we bind it… but we don't know how to kill it? So how do we keep it occupied while you perform the ritual?" Bobby asked flipping over the cool cloth on Sammy's forehead.

"It's all we've got Bobby... apparently these things... they latch onto something they see as pure and do everything they can to corrupt it. Each step it can push feeds the colony so to speak..."

"What? The stronger the colony gets... it drains them? Cause what you said about watching John wasting away before your eyes... try watching it happen to a nine year old kid!"

Something heavy hit the floor startling Bobby to his feet with his gun drawn and pointed at the door. His throat closed as he realized it must've been the pack, and he gasped choking on his desire to let some tears of relief rip out of him. "Dean! Boy where you been? My God son... you alright? Dean?..." he dashed to the young man whose face was a mask of the Easter Island head variety and stopped short. He could hear Shep on the other end of the line and raised the phone to his ear as Dean muttered,

"Hey Bobby," and walked past him, directly to Sam.

He sat on the bed, gathered his baby brother into his arms and held him tight stroking his back, and thinking he couldn't remember ever being so glad to see the shrimp before, so that's why it digs up those terrible things… but what about the thing with the eyes? That's different… God it's on the tip of my tongue and it's gonna drive me nuts! (later, those things have Dad and Sammy)… man I'm soooo tired… gotta help 'em bind 'em then I can rest…"Thank God you're okay... listen to me Sammy... I know you can hear me... I know that wherever you are... you're probably scared silly and you're probably seeing dad... least that's what Bobby was saying, now listen to me shrimp-o, you know I'm not going to lie to you... No matter what you think, that's not dad... its some kind of... psychic mosquito I guess... if I understand right," he looked at Bobby who nodded but remained otherwise frozen in place. Apparently Dean had heard quite a bit.

Where have you been? You look like week old meatloaf... his damned pants are practically falling off him...he's got the same wasted look… he's been fighting this thing all alone, Damn you John Winchester... what did you do to him?

"So you listen to me Sammy... I promise you this, as long as I'm around I'll never let anything bad happen to you, you understand me? So whatever you do, you keep telling that thing in your head that you're not afraid. You tell it you know it isn't dad and you're not going to give it what it wants... now Bobby's gonna take care of you and I'm going to go wake up dad."

To Bobby's utter amazement Sammy seemed to settle down, his breathing slowed and deepened as Dean wiped at his face and said almost imperceptibly, "…love you runt..."

He got up and went to Bobby, taking the phone from his hand and spoke into it, "Pick me up Shep," then hung up ensuring the man would waste no time in getting there.

"Dean... boy... it's good... hell it's great to see you... we thought... well we didn't know what to think..." Bobby sputtered a little frightened by the wall he saw in the young mans' eyes. "What happened? Where have you been?" he asked again and finally saw something besides stony resolution, he saw pain flicker in those green eyes and he yanked Dean hard against him, smoothing his grimy hair, and wondering why he smelled like charcoal lighter fluid. He hadn't realized until that moment just how little hope he'd had that John had actually left his son alive.

"Tell me everything you know," Dean instructed, something in his voice, just another peek at the man he was one step closer to becoming.

Bobby knew Shep would be there in just a few minutes, He'll break the damned sound barrier if he can! Bobby thought so started giving Dean a bare bones run down of what they'd discovered so far.

"…your dad called me and told me to get here and take over watching Sammy from Caleb. Every time I asked him where you were all he'd say was that you were safe... at first. Later... we just didn't know and he wouldn't tell us what he did with you... he just went to Sheps and demanded to be chained up, said he was a danger to everyone... later we found out he was sort of being used by these things called..."

"Foenwyn, yeah I know," Dean nodded and poured himself the last cup of coffee in the pot on the table. It was cold but he didn't care, he was just so damned thirsty, "It uses what's in your mind... makes you see horrible things, makes you want to do horrible things... I think it uses fear 'cause..." he stopped and shook his head, "There's something else... it'll show you anything to try and get you to do bad things, to do evil..." he chuckled and seemed to fall into his own head for a moment as he said, "… there's some kinds of evil it doesn't get though…" Dean nearly whispered that last and Bobby felt a chill up his spine as he wondered what kinds of things a 13 year old kid could've seen, what he'd been subjected to, where he'd been.

"Yeah... corruption seems to be what feeds the colony… then it can draw more people in..."

"Why did he take my pendant?" Dean asked fingering his neck though his voice held no emotion.

A hurried knock and Shep calling out, "Lemme in! Where is he?" left Dean without an answer. He was still on his feet and sipping the cold coffee so he opened the door, to Bobby's jaw-hitting-the-floor surprise without looking through the peep hole first and turned his back, walking into the bedroom where he bent and kissed Sammy's forehead before either of them could see, then grabbed his pack and returned to the living room.

"Where is he?" Shep nearly demanded as Dean returned from the bedroom. "Dean! Thank God!" he breathed and squished the young man to his chest, mashing his right forefinger between them and making Dean gasp sharply.

"What?... what's wrong?...Oh Damn! Dean what happened?" he asked assessing the dislocated and probably broken finger. "Hold on," he said and without warning jerked while pulling the crooked digit, setting it back into its proper place.

Dean sucked wind again but just as soon as he was about to shout, a huge amount of pain subsided to nearly tolerable levels. "Oh... that's better," he breathed actually giving them a small smile before the mask came back up and he looked at Shep, "Let's go."

In the truck Shep did his best to engage Dean somehow, to find out what happened, where he'd been, but the young man wouldn't have any of it until Shep uttered the phrase of the day, "...I'm sure he was just trying to keep you safe..."

Safe huh? he scoffed internally, Okay, yeah I can see that with the whole sticking me in a vortex thing... sure I'll buy that, but he couldn't pick one a little closer? and he sure as hell didn't give a thought about 'momma psycho-freak' did he? Not that he'd know... or care... I killed a man tonight... the words shouted fiercely in his head making him wince as they echoed back and forth, a sick twisted broken man, but just a man, because of what he did, I took a human life... and I can't tell anyone about it... ever. How am I supposed to feel? I'm supposed to be grateful? The only plus here is that that sick-o is never gonna be able to hurt another kid... okay sothat's a big plus, he sighed to himself. Nothing could change what he'd done, and even if he could have Dean knew he wouldn't have. He could've wound up dead or worse at the hands of that nut job, and he knew the only reason he didn't was because of John and the hours of drilling he'd put them through. He sighed internally, I can live with it I suppose.

Shep drove fast, casting the occasional glance at the young man in his passenger seat. His skin was crawling and his mind was literally humming with all the ways Dean was 'wrong'. He should be screaming, asking questions, angry, hurt... anything but this... what the hell happened out there? Where have you been boy? What did your dad do? God please Dean open up... whatever's going on in there it's too much for you. You're like a gigantic transformer... I can feel the energy buzzing off of you boy... you're going to have to let it out... please... he begged to himself.

"I'm just tired Shep," Dean said in monotone after about the twentieth glance at him.

"Where were you Dean?" he asked.

Dean gave a single shake of his head, "Not now."

Oh God what did you do to him John? he winced inside.

Dean got out just as Shep was about to put the truck into park and strode to the door, his pack over his right shoulder. Caleb opened the door before Dean could and halted just as he was about to embrace the boy.

Dean walked straight past him with a terse, "Hey Caleb," and made a bee line for the spare room. He stopped at the side of the bed and looked down at what was left of his dad. How can he still be alive? Dean wondered feeling his heart start to break as whatever was left of his anger slipped away. He had a brief mental image of his dad as a wall hanging, pleading with him as he gave in to his anger. Kill him! Take out your gun and shoot him right between the eyes! After what he did to you he deserves to die!

Dean smirked, he was wise to the voice now. It didn't belong to him, it never had. He loved his father and he knew that everything John Winchester did was anchored by his love of his boys and his desire to keep them safe. The image of his skinning knife flashed in his mind and he shook his head willing it away. No…whatever you are you don't get to win this.

"Dad..." he whispered sinking to his knees as a glint of light flashed around his neck. Dean slid his hand under the Horned God pendant and unclasped it from his father's neck, so much was suddenly so clear. It's a focal point, he took it to make this thing focus on him instead of me... he dropped me into the vortex to camouflage me from it... but why didn't he do the same thing to Sammy? Cause he's only nine years old stupid! he realized and clasped the amulet around his own neck, back where it belonged. It's weight hit his chest and Dean felt as if the world had suddenly shifted and all was soon to be right once more.

"Leave my father and brother alone," he ordered softly while holding John's hand in his.

Caleb and Shep stood in the doorway curious, uncertain about everything, Caleb holding an ancient looking text as the air around John shimmered like hot blacktop.

"Dean wait!" Caleb called but it was too late. The parasite that was within John encased Dean and was absorbed into him.

"Start reading, we have to bind this thing!" Shep ordered as Deans eyes rolled back into his skull and he fell into his outstretched arms. He lowered the young mans inert body to the floor, fear written indelibly on his face as Deans temperature shot up and another layer of sweat broke over him.

In the background noise of his mind Dean could hear a familiar voice chanting in Latin and knew that no matter what these things wanted him to think he wasn't alone.

The entity that called itself Foenwyn was by no means unintelligent. It didn't try to convince Dean he was back in the cave or even back in psycho-freak's lair. Instead he found himself standing in Sheps living room, the rubbery tar-like remains of a human being plastered to his dining table. The floor was spattered with gore and along the far wall was Brandy's dog run. He could see John kneeling into it, reaching for someone or something. Not Sammy please...he thought and sure enough caught a glimpse of Sammy's dark waves.

"Dad!" he barked reaching into the pack he still held in his right hand. He drew out the gun and held it steadily in his left, "Get away from him."

A low rumbling laughter bubbled up as John backed out of the cage dragging his youngest son by the hair. Somehow Dean had known what he was going to see before he saw it. Those oily yellow eyes still shook him up as an arctic chill blasted through him and a lifetime's worth of wondering flowed effortlessly into knew where he'd seen those eyes before.

"Le..." he choked and cleared his throat trying to keep himself from retreating into unconsciousness. Sammy's eyes were wide and flooded with pain and tears and Dean could see small lines of blood on his Pinky and the Brain p.j.'s. Something, maybe the combination of his little brothers tears, and the fear vying for space against hope at the sight of Dean's presence… his mind flashed to those few pictures on psycho-freak's wall, the ones that made him think of Sammy and he felt his back stiffen. Then there were the lines of blood where the wires had cut his baby brother that firmly steeled his resolve, "Let him go," he ordered as the thing stalked to him, dragging his Sammy squirming behind.

"Dean I told it! I told it you'd come! I told it I wasn't afraid!" Sammy sniffled trying to pull free from its grip.

"Good job runt," Dean nodded still holding the gun steady, pointing it at the things head. "When it lets go of you run, get out the door, Bobby's waiting for you right outside," Dean instructed hoping that those movies were right about the symbolism of the subconscious. He saw Sammy nod his understanding and managed to hold his ground as the thing approached and stood before him.

"You can't beat me," it said with John's mouth.

"I don't have to... I know you... I saw you that night. You're using the Foenwyn to try and get to us... it won't work," he said a lot more certainly than he felt and saw its grip on Sammy's hair slip just enough for him to squirm free. "Run Sammy! run outside!" Dean called watching his brother nod and run for the door even as he was flung backward against the wall. He recognized the cabin as the same one he'd been shown before but now he also knew that the other poor bastard, the one who'd been beat to hell was his baby brother as an adult, and that hideous creature inhabiting his dad was the same one he'd seen kill their mother that terrible, fateful night.

"You used the Foenwyn... you rode it right into my dad..." he said.

"Such a smart boy," it said with John's voice.

"You killed my mother... what are you?" he asked feeling as if something was starting to crush him.

"Your future, your finale if you will..." it smirked, "Shoot me Dean... kill me now and end all this… change your future, make it what you want it to be..."

Dean suddenly wished he could drop the gun in his hand but instead felt his arm being forced upward, his hand forced to turn so the barrel was now square against John's forehead, between his eyes.

"Kill me now and none of this will ever happen," it goaded.

That's what it wants me to do... but none of this is real... it broke my damned finger in the cave, was that real? If I squeeze the trigger I know... I don't know how I know... but I know dad will die...What is it Jim says? The Bible says thinking a thing is as bad as doing that thing… Ahhh I gotcha… no f-ing way you win you piece of crap! "No!" Dean groaned through clenched teeth as he felt that terrible rending sensation again as the thing in his dad seemed to focus its will.

"Dad Please... don't you let it kill me!" he pleaded in a voice not yet his and saw the thing bow its eyes as he tasted his own blood begin to flow out of his mouth.

It was as if someone pressed a fast forward button,Dean felt his body dying as he lay on the floor of the cabin, his blood pooling in his lungs and throat while the grown-up version of Sammy stood over their dad with a gun aimed right at his heart. John was begging Sammy to shoot him and end it all right now.

No Sammy... you can't... you'll kill dad! That's what it wants! "Don't do it Sammy..." he managed to squeeze out through his broken body. Nothing mattered so long as no Winchester gave this thing what it wanted. "Sammy... please don't..." I'm dying little brother... consider this a last request...he felt a strange sense of de ja vous, he could've sworn this had already happened, it had the flavor of a memory from childhood, That's not possible... I'd remember it if something like this had ever happened before. He could see his brother wavering and pushed out one last plea, "Sammy please..." before he fell into a deep abyss where the only thing he heard was John Winchester scream.

"Dean... come on tiger... c'mon Dean..." it was Sheps voice breaking through the darkness in his mind as his eyes tried to open and he saw a luminous cloud of sharp little screaming faces hovering above him. They looked like some odd conglomeration of pixie and rat with nearly human eyes. "That's it open those eyes buddy... stay with us..."

Caleb stepped closer to them still chanting in Latin as the faces in the swarm cloud screamed and fell in a stormy shock of malicious color into a small silver box Caleb closed and locked. He quickly wrapped the box with white ribbon and sealed it with beeswax drippings, effectively completing the binding ritual.

"Thatta boy..." Shep breathed a sigh of relief and pulled the young man into his chest where he held him, relieved beyond all telling that John's sons were going to be alright.

At the same moment the phone rang, John's eyes opened and he moaned as if he was in pain.

"Dad?" Dean breathed hoarsely and pushed away from Shep to kneel at his dad's side. He took John's hand into his and swept aside the soaking mop that covered his wasted features.

"Dad?" the word caught sideways in his throat.

"Mmm Dean?" his name came out more or less mouthed but the sound and shape of it hitting his ears opened a floodgate nonetheless as John's hand reached up, brushed his sons head weakly and flopped back onto the bed, "Mmm my boy," he muttered smiling faintly before drifting off to his first sound sleep in days.

Just a few minutes later Bobby arrived with Sammy, who ran right into the bedroom, colliding with Dean and wrapping his arms around him tightly while burying his face against his neck, "I knew you'd wake me up! I didn't like that dream..."

"Me either shrimp-o," Dean said softly holding his little brother and stroking his hair and back.

"I knew you'd wake me up though, and I wasn't afraid, you were there and that made me brave!" Sammy grinned and kissed his brothers' cheek with a big smile on his face.

"Aww gross runt!" Dean said wiping his face with his hand though he wasn't fooling anyone, "Now I gotta take a shower!"

Sammy wrinkled up his nose, "Yeah you smell bad."

"Yeah well it's hard work saving your ass," Dean tossed back at him and rose to his feet.

Caleb, Bobby, and Shep all saw the same thing as Dean walked past them and into the bathroom. At the door he turned and asked, "Anyone gotta go? I'm gonna be a while."

They all shook their heads unnerved by so much that none of them could figure out where to start.

"Dean!" Caleb called as he was closing the door but Dean just shook his head, closed and locked the door and started the hot water running in the bathtub.

Withthe hot water on full blast hesquirted a hefty amount of shampoo into the tub, he wanted bubbles, lots and lots of them. He sat on the toilet watching the bathtub fill and the bubble mountains grow, his mind occupied not by the supernatural battle whose detailsalready seemed to be fading from his memory, but by the more mundane evil he'd encountered this night.

Slowly, after checking the lock again he took off his shoes and socks. He managed the jeans okay too but as soon as he pulled his shirt over his head and caught a whiff of the stale b.o. and cigarettes that permeated 'momma psycho-freak's house, and saw the fire-engine-red-turned-orange streaks of lipstick still on his body, his stomach clenched tight. He reached the toilet just in time to feel the acid in his stomach burn its way out, some out his mouth and more still out his nose. It's okay... nothing happened... I beat that sick fuck... just don't think about what could have happened... it's okay. I set those kids free... I took a human life tonight...and he retched again before deciding he was done and rinsing his mouth. He's gone and he can't hurt anyone anymore, ever again... Thanks to dad I got off very lucky... I love you dad. He slid into the tub and started scrubbing himself raw until his skin felt like he'd rolled in brambles and still he sat there listening to the adults. It seemed John was up and had moved out into the living room where Bobby, Caleb and Shep were filling him in on the last few days, or what they knew of them.

I've got Dad and Sammy, Shep, Caleb, Bobby, Pastor Jim... and So many more... I know I'm lucky... I had good training too thanks to dad...

"Hey buddy! You fall asleep in there?" Caleb asked straining to keep his tone light and failing miserably.

"I'll be out soon," Dean assured him softly, "Just soaking it up."

"Something's wrong... I'm telling you..." he heard Caleb tell them in a hushed whisper.

"I'm... just… really tired," he shouted through the door and pulled the plug in the drain then started the shower going.

As the hot water fell from above rinsing him clean, Dean sat there, 987 terrorized and crying faces scrolling through his mind. Finally he let his tears come, a small waterfall tribute to each child he hadn't been able to save.

The end.

Please R&R thanks.

sifi.