Dean dropped his school bag on the kitchen floor. Shit! He'd totally forgotten about Allistair, the ass wipe being in jail for almost killing Castiel at the car wash. John remained seated. "Answer me, boy!"
His son strolled over to him slowly. John slammed the piece of paper against Dean's chest. The 17 year old licked his lips. He grabbed the court document and read it. The trial was set within two weeks. Dean was not afraid to testify against his former tormentor. Sheriff Mills informed him and Castiel that Allistair would at least serve four years with no chance of parole. Turned out the creep has a criminal history: one DUI and one count of public vandalism. Due to there being so many witnesses of his assault on Cas at the car wash, the dude's ass was fried. Dean wanted to make sure he was one of the people, who helped put Allistair behind bars.
"Sit down and explain yourself," John told Dean through gritted teeth. "You better not BS me, Dean Michael Winchester."
Dean placed the paper in the middle of the kitchen table. He sat across from his father. Dean folded his hands on top of the table. "Jo and I went to a car wash, which the LGBT club sponsored for a school musical they are doing."
"I told you under no circumstances were you to socialize with Castiel Novak." John stared at his first born.
"It was for a good cause." Dean glanced at the table.
"You are a terrible liar. Don't have the courage to look at your own father in the eye."
Dean's green eyes met his father's dark orbs. "We wanted to help the club."
John banged a fist on the table. A bowl of oranges rattled. Two plump oranges fell down to the floor. "Enough with the lies!" John breathed hard.
"Stop using the 'good cause' excuse! You went there to see the Novak kid...specifically after I forbid you to."
Dean swallowed hard. His hands shook. He swiftly placed them in the pockets of his jeans. He refused to give John the satisfaction of seeing that. 'Yes! I went there to see Cas. Not only did I see him; we snuck away and made out. I begged him to fuck me right there in an alley."
John stood up and scurried over to Dean. His face couldn't get any redder. A thick blue vein on the side of his neck throbbed. Dean thought John was about to pass out. His father dug his fingers deep into Dean's right bicep and dragged him out of the chair.
"How dare you gloat about your sickness to me?!" John shook Dean hard. "All this time you've been lying to me? The camp was a failure and you've been sneaking around with that pervert!" John slammed Dean against the stove. The teen hissed, when one of his hips made contact with the edge.
"I have no more patience. What am I going to do with you? My son is a degenerate, who is going to rot in Hell."
The pain no longer lanced down Dean's hip. He inched away from the stove. Dean fisted his hands to the side. "At least I won't be alone in Hell. Cas will keeping me company."
John raised his right hand and was about to strike his son. Dean held his father's hand. "Lay one finger on me again...I won't hesitate to notify the authorities."
The pastor blanched. His nostrils flared. John yanked his hand away from Dean's grasp. "So now you are blackmailing your own father? Your sins keep accumulating."
