𝗜 𝗔𝗠 𝗠𝗢𝗥𝗘 𝗧𝗛𝗔𝗡 𝗠𝗬 𝗕𝗢𝗗𝗬 - Dean Winchester

doing it all for love

chapter iv.

When Dean came to, he was still lying on the bed. His body was splayed out as if the man simply pulled out and walked away. His head spun, either from the deprivation of oxygen or the trauma to his body, he didn't know. He peered around the room until his eyes fixed on the bathroom door. A light showed under the slit and he heard the shower being run. He figured this was his best chance to escape and tried to stand up. His hips felt as though they had been locked into place, the muscles burning with every inch of movement. His back end hurt even more so. He stilled when he felt the weird sensation of liquid underneath him. When he looked down, he was mortified to discover he was lying in his blood.

He nearly fell off the edge of the bed, painfully crawling on his bruised legs to gather his clothes. He pulled on his jeans and his shirt and slipped out the door. He ran the rest of the way back to the motel, falling multiple times as he did so.

When he finally made it back to the motel he slumped against the wall of the back of it. He again felt the uncomfortable wetness dripping down his legs. He didn't know why he did it, but he slipped his hand down his pants and pulled it back out. His hand was covered in a mixture of both his blood and come. The memories came flooding back, one after the other. He didn't know what had happened after he passed out but it wasn't good.

Dean became overwhelmingly nauseous at the memories and blood covering his body and vomited, falling to his knees as he heaved uncontrollably. Once finished he collapsed onto his side. Fresh tears covered his cheeks as they froze in the morning air.
When he tried to bring his legs up to his chest he felt something hard stuffed deep in his pocket. It was the rolled-up wad of cash the man either forgot about or didn't have time to take from him before he escaped. His still dirty hands covered the money in filth. A reminder that nothing came without a price.

Dean screamed and threw the wad into the dirt, punching the ground with the side of his fist until it left a shallow cave in the dirt. He rolled onto his back and covered his face with his hands. What had his life come to? It was always hard, he never denied that. But whatever happened he always made it through in the end. And when he couldn't he had his brother to help him. This time he was alone. All it took was one person, one choice, to turn his life upside down. He didn't feel like a person, not anymore. He was nothing. He was an object to be passed around like books at a library. "You're your own self-made business now" and he was what was being sold.

He lay on the cold hard ground until the light from sunrise peaked through his fingers. "Shit, sam needs to go to school" and like the flip of a switch, his ultimate life mission was reaffirmed. In a way, taking care of Sam made things easier. Whatever hard, dark thing he was forced into, "you're doing it for Sammy" made it a little easier.

Dean carefully got up. His face contorted and grimaced with every movement as he eased himself onto his knees and back to his feet. He picked up the money and walked to the shower house that was next door to the hotel where he cleaned himself of the blood and semen.

___________

When he opened the door of their motel room, he found Sam sitting at the kitchen table waiting for him like a parent whose teen stuck out with their friends.

"Where were you?" Sam asked.

"Had to get ice."

"Then where's the ice bucket." Dean clenched his jaw and went straight to the bedroom where he threw on a clean pair of clothes.