Please Don't Leave Me

Chapter 7

Dean

"Please just come with us," Sam begs into Dean's chest and tightens his hold on him slightly. Dean can hear the desperation in his voice and how much he wants him to just leave with them.

"I wish I could, but Dad..." Dean reminds him gently. He wishes he could go with them, but if he does John would be so mad and there is no telling what the man would do then, especially if he came home drunk again.

"So? Bobby would fight for you to stay," Sam tries again.

"I know. But I am not the only person to take into consideration. John could involve the police and add more pressure on Bobby than there already is. He could also try to hurt you and I am not letting that happen. I'll be fine. You did tell him that you were going to a friends house right?"

"Yes, I did. You are just as important as we are Dean. You don't have to stay. How will we know you're okay, anyway?

"I have this," Dean held up his phone and waved it around to make a point. He then proceeded to promise to call after John had gone to bed all the while pushing him to get in the car. Finally, he was in the car and they were driving down the road. Dean stands and watches them for as long as he can see them. If he was being honest, he was so scared. He had a horrible feeling that John was not going to be happy when he came home tonight, and with Sam gone he could do whatever he wanted.

Sighing, he checked his phone to see that he only had thirty minutes before John was to be home. He was glad that he had gotten them all out of here before his father was home; however, he definitely wishes that he would have had them gone sooner so he would have time to make sure the house was intact. He had wanted them to leave this morning when Castiel had left for school. It would have given him enough time to replace anything missing or different, but not he knew he was screwed but he tried to ignore it. There was nothing he could do to change the inevitable so he saw no issue with ignoring the impending pain.

Slowly, he made his way into the house and to his room. He moved things around to make the room look more like his room. He didn't know how much time he had left so he decided that it was good enough. Now was for the part that he was dreading. Cas and Bobby had been putting creams on his back for the pain and to help heal the cuts faster, but he was getting ready to ruin what it had already done. He had broken most of the scabs open when moving around, but now he had a crowbar he had found under his bed. He took a deep breath before using it to scrape off what he could of the healing skin. He doesn't allow himself to make a noise because he isn't sure when John will be home and he's hoping the man won't know a thing.

Once he can't take anymore, he throws the crowbar behind the bed and lies down on his stomach. His body screams and his stomach growls. He had not eaten anything in the couple of days he had spent with Bobby and Cas. The two of them had tried multiple times to get him to eat anything, but he refused every time. He didn't want to chance John coming home and finding that he had disobeyed one of the rules set for when he was gone. Those were always followed by the worst punishments and he couldn't handle that at the moment. It didn't help either that he still just wanted his father to be proud of him for something. Even if it was just following one of his rules, he wanted him to look at him the way he looked at Sam. Just one time in his life, Dean wanted John to care about him.

The breath in Dean's body leaves when he hears the door above him close. He listens as his father stumbles around the house, most likely looking for a beer. Dean couldn't help but hope that his father would leave him alone for the night. He couldn't do much about it though if the man decided to come down the stairs. His back was hurting more and more as time passed and made it harder to breathe.

Unfortunately for Dean, John felt the need to terrorize his son. Dean heard the door to his room open and heavy footsteps begin to come down the stairs. He tried to shallow his breathing, but failed miserably, fear taking over his form. He just kept still, hoping onto the chance that the man would leave him alone.

"So you are still breathing," John chuckles, "too bad. I was really hoping that I had finally finished you off."

"I'm sorry," Dean whimpers into the sheets. He feels guilty for some reason. John is being quiet and that is never a good sign. It usually means that he is mad and that was something Dean didn't want to deal with, not that he ever did.

"So, I got a call from the school earlier today. They were on about you not showing up to school for three days. Tell me, why were you skipping you ungrateful shit."

He says this so calmly that Dean isn't sure how to feel. He hates when his father gets like this. Yelling at least means he's drunk and not completely in control of his actions, but when he's quiet? He's sober and completely in control. It just further proves to Dean that his father hated him more than he could ever understand. Especially since he is here and not at some bar drinking his anger away. Dean isn't even sure why the man is mad in the first place, all he knows is that he was supposed to be dead and he didn't deliver.

"You're not listening, are you?" John whispers into Dean's ear forcing him to pay attention. He could feel his hand on his back as his fingers started to dig into the wounds drawing a gasp from the boy. "Do I have your attention now?" Dean can hear the smile in his voice as he applies more pressure.

"Ye-yes," Dean pants feeling his father's fingers move up his back, "I-." Dean couldn't form another coherent thought as the pain took over his being.

"You are good for nothing, you know? Your mother would have been ashamed of what you are. Just an ugly waste of space that the two of us were cursed with. If you had never been born, she would still be here." John removed his hand from the top of Dean's back and moved it down dragging it down to his lower back. "But unfortunately, you're still here. One more thing, Dean, why is there food missing?"

Dean doesn't have a chance to say anything before John moves his hand lower and grips his hip, using his right-hand to hold him into the bed. He can feel his father moving closer, leaning over his shaking form. His breathing starts to pick up as he tries to ignore the flashbacks of last time. Dean can feel his hands all over him, holding him down even when he begged for him to let him go. For it all to just stop. Dean's heart pounds as John leans down and nips at his ear. "You're too beat up for this," John laughs lightly, "but who knows how I will feel later." With that being said John got up and left the room without another word leaving Dean crying silently and trembling.