On The Flip Side

Chapter 6

His first thought is that his dad would never take a bat to a 1967 Chevy Impala. His second is that holy fuck, that's his dad. Who is... supposed to be dead.

But it's him. Like, definitely him. He's alive and breathing and... definitely there. Aaron seems utterly horrified, especially when the guns trained on all of them fail to lower. Dean stares, feeling rather like the rug has been ripped out from beneath his feet. He suddenly wishes Sam was here and not buried ass deep in books inside.

But if this is Negan, and this is also his dad, that implies his dad is Negan. As in, a megalomaniac dictator who liked to murder people for fun and then take their shit just because he had the firepower to do so.

Which was... just... what the literal fuck?

John Winchester killing innocents just didn't settle. Dean rolled the idea around in his head back and forth a few times, but it wasn't clicking. Was he possessed? Why would he be looking at Dean like that if he was? Dean's mouth felt dry, his mind struggling to process. He knew he shouldn't have used all his brain power on Sam. Dammit.

"Oh, no." Castiel murmurs from his side, sounding genuinely mournful of... well, the entire situation, really.

Dean opens his mouth to say something. To say anything-- to call out to him, or maybe to Sam, who'd probably know exactly how to respond to a situation like this. He doesn't quite get the chance to. Not before something in his dad's expression changes drastically, shock falling into white, hot rage he doesn't think he's ever seen in his father's face.

It's jarring. Fuck, maybe even a little scary, Dean's willing to admit it. In his shoes, he'd probably have the same reaction. If the Dean of here was (probably) dead, then seeing him here- alive and well- obviously shouldn't have been in the cards.

Unless something unsavory had taken him over. Which was clearly what his dad was assuming by the way his expression was twisting. Castiel gave Dean the 'you fucking moron' blink, and Aaron grabbed him hard by the shoulder as John's teeth grit, pure murder in his eyes.

Dean raised his hands in immediate surrender. Somehow, that seemed to make things worse.

"I can explain!" Dean blurts out. Every gun in the crowd is trained in him, though the people behind them seem too shocked by their apparent leaders white-hot fury to use them. "This is absolutely not what you think it is! Just-"

"Shut the FUCK up!" His dad absolutely roars, enraged. It sucks all the oxygen out of the air and leaves everyone breathless. He stalks forward in long, heavy strides, bat already raising. "Who the fuck do you think you are, you bastard?! You think this is funny?! You think you can WEAR his face?!"

Dean feels... Suddenly quite out of his depth. Because alternate universe or not, this is his dad. And his dad has certainly never looked at him like that before. For all Dean's level-headedness, his dad was someone he loved, who he looked up to.

To be faced with him like this is verging into nightmare territory. His heart pounds uncharacteristically fast. He feels pale and shaky. Castiel's grip on his shoulder tightens to a near painful extent, but Dean can't tear his eyes away from his father, even as he backpedals further into the porch.

This isn't a demon. Probably, anyway. It's not some creature, not some shade. This is his dad. From another universe, but it's still him. Human and alive and still breathing, this is not a monster he can banish back into the closet. That he can brush off as 'something else'.

"Sam!" Dean throws over his shoulder when his dad shows no signs of slowing, his eyes growing wide. "SAM! I need some back up out here, man!"

Do you ever have a visceral "oh shit?" moment? One where your heart stops beating and your mind blanks out? Because faced with the image of his not-so-dead dad coming at him with a barbed wire baseball bat, it's safe to say Dean has one of those! Which is like, totally justified!