Identity or alternately "Why can't Dean Winchester keep his hands to himself?" Chapter 6
Title: Identity Chapter 6 of ?
Rating: PG13 I suppose, for minor swearing
Characters: Dean, Sam, Young Dean, Young Sam, Pre-Series John, Pastor Jim
Notes: Thanks michelle2007 for the great beta job! Takes place after Kansas City Shuffle No real episode warnings.
Disclaimers: I own nothing, I just like to play with what’s not mine.
Summary: After the events of Kansas City Shuffle, Sam and Dean are on a hunt for a cult. Once again, Dean can’t keep his hands to himself, only this time he ends up traveling back to the past and trading places with his 10 year old self. Now Sam has to deal with taking care of a 10 year old, while Dean has to convince his father he is who he says he is.
Previous Chapters:
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Identity
Chapter 6
After an hour of looking at hieroglyphs, I called a break. I glanced back at the journal and found the added note from Dean. Despite what he said, I wasn’t going to give up trying. I didn’t want the younger Dean to see it however, and so I decided to take him out shopping. He needed clothes that fit well and I was going to make sure he at least went home wearing something nice. Dean however didn’t like that plan.
“I’m not gonna be here long enough to need clothes! We’re gonna figure this out tonight, and then I’ll be back home. We need to keep working, not go shopping!!” He stood looking up at me, arms crossed jaw clenched. I tried not to laugh. Instead I went for stern.
“We need a break and you need something that fits. We’re gonna get you some clothes and then we’ll go back to work.”
“Don’t expect me to try stuff on!” I nodded and we headed to a thrift store I had seen in town.
Clothes shopping with my 10 year old older brother is an experience I will be glad to never do again. I kind of understood why Dad never took us shopping that often. Dean’s refusal to try things on lasted long enough for me to really consider calling it quits. Then I put my foot down and told him that he was trying them on and once he found a pair that fit right we would leave. That seemed to help. He only had to try on 2 pairs of pants before we found one that fit him well. I bought him a new t-shirt, a Led Zeppelin one, and a heavier flannel over shirt. I also got him some sweat pants and a larger oversized shirt to sleep in.
Once we got back to the motel room, we went back to looking at hieroglyphs. So far everything coincided with the I Ching symbol. All of a sudden I noticed Dean stiffen and grimace.
“What’s wrong?” I asked. He shook his head, then let out a whimper. He stood up and walked into the bathroom. I followed behind him. He lifted the back of his shirt to reveal a very nasty looking cut on his back. We both stared at it, then I jumped and grabbed the washcloth. I pressed it against the wound and tried to calm down. He had been sitting still and there was nothing around for him to cut himself on. I wondered if my Dean had a similar cut. I also noticed some bruises.
“Did the bruises just appear?” I asked. He shook his head. He was looking very pale. I decided to question him about that later. In the mean time, I needed to get the bleeding stopped.
“Ok, sit down on the toilet there. Good, ok now hold that against your cut, can you do that?”
He nodded again and held the wash cloth. I ran out to the car and got out our first aid kit. I flipped it open on the bed and muttered a curse under my breath at my brother. I don’t think condoms are a necessary item in a first aid kit. I pawed through it, pulling out some antibiotic ointment, a gauze pad, some tape, and some butterfly Band-Aids. I walked back in and he stared at me with wide eyes.
“How’d it happen?” he asked, his voice shaky.
“I’m not sure. I…I’m thinking that maybe something happened to my Dean. I don’t know. Let me see how bad it is.” I slowly peeled the washcloth away from the cut. It was about 4 inches long, and was fairly deep. It was bleeding a lot, so I decided that it would be best if we did this while he was lying down. I got him settled on one of the beds, a towel underneath him. I cleaned it as best I could, and then I used the butterfly Band-Aids to close it as best as I could. Dean managed to glance behind and look at the cut.
“It needs stitches,” he said.
I had known that, but hoped not to have to stitch him up. We were low on things for pain, and I really didn’t know how much I could give him. I had alcohol, but didn’t want to give a 10 year old whiskey. I looked at the cut again. If he tossed at all during sleep he’d easily pull those, even with gauze over it. I sighed.
“I don’t know what to give you for the pain.” He shrugged slightly.
“I can have some alcohol. Dad let me when I had to get some stitches once.”
I mentally argued with myself about the idea, but ultimately decided he really did need stitches. I grabbed a bottle of whiskey and poured him a small amount. He raised an eyebrow.
“I can have more than that.” I sighed and added a little bit more, then helped him sit up so he could drink.
He drank it down very quickly, then closed his eyes as he let it take effect. We got him settled back down on his stomach and he was snoring slightly in just a few minutes.
I pulled out a needle and the thread and worked as quickly as I could. Once I had gotten it stitched up, I put some antibiotic ointment on it, and taped a gauze pad over it. I left him sleeping as I got everything cleaned up. I went to the journal to see if there was an explanation, but found nothing new. I sighed and settled in for a long night of worrying. I kept watch over Dean as I wondered about the bruises and what had happened to my Dean.
-----
I stood staring at Dean, wishing he’d wake up soon. I had just finished putting stitches in his back. I was pissed but mostly at myself for not noticing he was bleeding earlier. But when I had asked him if he was hurt, he had told me no. I started pacing again, wondering why he hadn’t said anything. I supposed at first he may not have felt any pain because of the adrenalin, but it should’ve hurt like hell on the drive back. I stopped pacing and looked again at my son. Not only was I worried about him, but I was worried about my real son, my 10 year old Dean. Where was he, how was he handling this? I went to the bathroom and got a cold, wet washcloth. I came back into the bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed. I brushed his hair out of his face and put the washcloth on his forehead. I may not say it often, but the boys were my world. It killed me to see either of them hurt, even if it was just a scraped knee. I’d never tell them that, just tell them to suck it up and keep going. His forehead was very hot and he had been sweating and I wondered briefly if he had a fever. As I sat there watching over him, the phone rang.
“Yeah?” I wasn’t in the mood for phone calls.
“John? It’s Jim. How are things going?” He sounded frazzled and I imagined that Sammy was giving him trouble.
“Dean’s hurt.” I sat down on the couch in the living room.
“What? When did he get back? Or do you mean the older one? What happened?”
“One question at a time. I mean the older one. We went on a hunt, should’ve been easy, I already knew who the ghosts were and we just had to salt and burn the bodies. We did that but I wanted to double check the place. When we did, he found a room that still had activity. It threw him around a bit before I got there. I guess it threw him into a mirror cause I had to pick out the glass from the cut. He didn’t say anything, Jim. I didn’t know he was hurt. By the time we got back to the house he’d lost a lot of blood. I stitched him up, but he’s not awake right now.”
Jim sighed. “Why did you go on a hunt, instead of trying to figure out how to get him home?”
“He was working on that, but said Sammy would fix it. He’s done this before so I figured I’d let Sammy fix it on his end. He probably has to do something with the statue, since Dean said that’s what happened last time. It was an easy job so I figured with the two of us it would go by a lot faster. I don’t know who that other ghost was, or if it was even a ghost. I suppose there could’ve been a poltergeist or something. I don’t know Jim, I just didn’t think it would be like that. How’s Sammy holding up?”
Jim chuckled. “He’s a little hellion as always. He wants his brother back and asks me almost hourly when Dean will be back. He also asked why you didn’t just kill the bad man who had taken his brother. I think though I’ve worn him down enough to stop thinking of the older Dean as a bad man. He’s fine John, just a little confused.”
I heard movement behind me, and turned to find Dean leaning against the hall. He was looking very pale and still sweating.
“Jim, I need to go, Dean’s up, I’ll call you back later, ok?” I didn’t wait for a response, but quickly hung up. I stood and walked over to him.
“What are you doing up?” I asked as I put my arm around him, intent on getting him back into bed.
“Thirsty, it’s hot. What happened?”
I led him back down to the bedroom. “You got cut, lost too much blood cause you didn’t tell me sooner. I think you have a fever. I’ll get you a drink and something to take for that.”
I got him settled back in bed, then got a glass of water and some Tylenol. While he was awake I checked the gauze. He had bled a little more, but nothing like he had before. He drank a lot of water and took the Tylenol, then laid back down and closed his eyes. When I was sure he was asleep I once again got a washcloth and placed it on his forehead. He was still very hot and sweating. I sighed.
“God kid, I don’t know what to do. You said we can trust your brother to fix this, but I just don’t know. It’s been 2 days, and I know you’re my son, but I miss my 10 year old boy. I hate not knowing where he his, I mean, I’m sure Sammy is keeping him safe. But he’s not here with me and that just isn’t right. I guess I just don’t know how much longer I can take not having my sons with me. And while I’m not sure what happened, I get that I’m not there anymore. I’m sorry that I’m not there for you and your brother.”
I closed my eyes and just listened to the steady, even breathing. Dean was safe, with Sammy and I know Sammy won’t let anything happen to him. In the mean time I needed to make sure I didn’t send Dean back in a much worse condition. I got up and took the washcloth into the bathroom then made sure there was a full glass of water on the night stand and more Tylenol. After that I headed to bed myself.
-----
My heart clenched as I listened to what my dad said. I knew he thought I was asleep, but I couldn’t bring myself to tell him differently. I wanted so badly to tell him what happened, but I couldn’t. I wanted to tell him about the demon, and Jess, and Sammy’s visions, and everything so that maybe he wouldn’t be dead when I got back. But there was no guarantee that it would change anything. Or that I would have a future to go back to if I did that. So I kept my eyes closed, my breathing even, and listened to him. When I heard him leave, and once I was sure he had gone to sleep I rolled gently onto my good side. I curled up and fell asleep deciding that tomorrow was soon enough to start thinking, but tonight I was too damned tired.
-----
Dean slept all the way through the night, but I hardly got any sleep. I sat awake watching him sleep. I was bound and determined to solve this and get my Dean back. So I worked all night on the remaining hieroglyphs. By the time morning arrived I was no better off. Dean woke up with a groan and I was at his side instantly.
“How are you feeling today?”
Dean gave me a look I was all too familiar with. “Like I got used as a punching bag one too many times.”
I frowned as I remembered the bruises.
“Where did you get those other bruises?”
Dean shook his head as he sat up gingerly. “I don’t know they just showed up. My feet are killing me too. I think that whatever happens to Dean in the past is happening to me too.”
I wondered what he was doing to warrant bruises and a cut that bad. I also wondered if it had something to do with Dad’s reaction to finding his son missing. I had a momentary chill at the thought of what Dean would be like if I got him back after he had been attacked by dad. But then I suppressed that and focused instead on checking the wound. It looked good, all things considered. He chose to put on an old shirt of Deans instead of his new shirt though. One that already was soaked in Dean’s blood since he used it frequently for the same reason. I knew I couldn’t take him out in public bruised and bloody so I left him in the room and went out for breakfast. When I got back he was reading over my notes from last night.
“Did you sleep?” he asked as soon as I walked in. I nodded, setting his food on his bed and taking mine and my coffee to the table. I flipped open dad’s journal just to see if there was anything new. To my surprise there was a note from dad on the same page that Dean had written on.
“Sammy, I don’t know if this works or not, but I thought I should warn you. Your brother got hurt, it’s not serious but he waited a while to tell me and it got infected. He also lost a lot of blood. He seems ok, but in case you solve this and he shows up unconscious that’s why. I see what he wrote above, and I wish I could say that I know how to fix this, but I really don’t. Take good care of your brother, both the younger one and the older one when you get him back. While he hasn’t said anything, I get the feeling that I’m no longer alive in your time. For that I’m sorry. Just remember that I’ve always been proud of you boys and I know I always will be. I think I hear him up now, so keep working on your end to fix this, and hopefully somehow we’ll get it fixed. Dad”
I didn’t realize I was crying until Dean appeared with a worried look on his face. I quickly closed the journal.
“It’s nothing, just a note from dad saying that Dean got hurt. I guess you really are suffering the same injuries as he is. I promise you we’ll get this fixed soon. One way or another.”
Dean nodded and went to finish his breakfast. I sipped my coffee while my brain processed everything. Dean was hurt, and so somehow his younger self was as well. Dad had somehow figured out that he wasn’t alive anymore in this time, but I had to make sure that stayed away from the younger Dean. I sighed and contemplated ways of getting them switched.
Rating: PG13 I suppose, for minor swearing
Characters: Dean, Sam, Young Dean, Young Sam, Pre-Series John, Pastor Jim
Notes: Thanks michelle2007 for the great beta job! Takes place after Kansas City Shuffle No real episode warnings.
Disclaimers: I own nothing, I just like to play with what’s not mine.
Summary: After the events of Kansas City Shuffle, Sam and Dean are on a hunt for a cult. Once again, Dean can’t keep his hands to himself, only this time he ends up traveling back to the past and trading places with his 10 year old self. Now Sam has to deal with taking care of a 10 year old, while Dean has to convince his father he is who he says he is.
Previous Chapters:
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Identity
Chapter 6
After an hour of looking at hieroglyphs, I called a break. I glanced back at the journal and found the added note from Dean. Despite what he said, I wasn’t going to give up trying. I didn’t want the younger Dean to see it however, and so I decided to take him out shopping. He needed clothes that fit well and I was going to make sure he at least went home wearing something nice. Dean however didn’t like that plan.
“I’m not gonna be here long enough to need clothes! We’re gonna figure this out tonight, and then I’ll be back home. We need to keep working, not go shopping!!” He stood looking up at me, arms crossed jaw clenched. I tried not to laugh. Instead I went for stern.
“We need a break and you need something that fits. We’re gonna get you some clothes and then we’ll go back to work.”
“Don’t expect me to try stuff on!” I nodded and we headed to a thrift store I had seen in town.
Clothes shopping with my 10 year old older brother is an experience I will be glad to never do again. I kind of understood why Dad never took us shopping that often. Dean’s refusal to try things on lasted long enough for me to really consider calling it quits. Then I put my foot down and told him that he was trying them on and once he found a pair that fit right we would leave. That seemed to help. He only had to try on 2 pairs of pants before we found one that fit him well. I bought him a new t-shirt, a Led Zeppelin one, and a heavier flannel over shirt. I also got him some sweat pants and a larger oversized shirt to sleep in.
Once we got back to the motel room, we went back to looking at hieroglyphs. So far everything coincided with the I Ching symbol. All of a sudden I noticed Dean stiffen and grimace.
“What’s wrong?” I asked. He shook his head, then let out a whimper. He stood up and walked into the bathroom. I followed behind him. He lifted the back of his shirt to reveal a very nasty looking cut on his back. We both stared at it, then I jumped and grabbed the washcloth. I pressed it against the wound and tried to calm down. He had been sitting still and there was nothing around for him to cut himself on. I wondered if my Dean had a similar cut. I also noticed some bruises.
“Did the bruises just appear?” I asked. He shook his head. He was looking very pale. I decided to question him about that later. In the mean time, I needed to get the bleeding stopped.
“Ok, sit down on the toilet there. Good, ok now hold that against your cut, can you do that?”
He nodded again and held the wash cloth. I ran out to the car and got out our first aid kit. I flipped it open on the bed and muttered a curse under my breath at my brother. I don’t think condoms are a necessary item in a first aid kit. I pawed through it, pulling out some antibiotic ointment, a gauze pad, some tape, and some butterfly Band-Aids. I walked back in and he stared at me with wide eyes.
“How’d it happen?” he asked, his voice shaky.
“I’m not sure. I…I’m thinking that maybe something happened to my Dean. I don’t know. Let me see how bad it is.” I slowly peeled the washcloth away from the cut. It was about 4 inches long, and was fairly deep. It was bleeding a lot, so I decided that it would be best if we did this while he was lying down. I got him settled on one of the beds, a towel underneath him. I cleaned it as best I could, and then I used the butterfly Band-Aids to close it as best as I could. Dean managed to glance behind and look at the cut.
“It needs stitches,” he said.
I had known that, but hoped not to have to stitch him up. We were low on things for pain, and I really didn’t know how much I could give him. I had alcohol, but didn’t want to give a 10 year old whiskey. I looked at the cut again. If he tossed at all during sleep he’d easily pull those, even with gauze over it. I sighed.
“I don’t know what to give you for the pain.” He shrugged slightly.
“I can have some alcohol. Dad let me when I had to get some stitches once.”
I mentally argued with myself about the idea, but ultimately decided he really did need stitches. I grabbed a bottle of whiskey and poured him a small amount. He raised an eyebrow.
“I can have more than that.” I sighed and added a little bit more, then helped him sit up so he could drink.
He drank it down very quickly, then closed his eyes as he let it take effect. We got him settled back down on his stomach and he was snoring slightly in just a few minutes.
I pulled out a needle and the thread and worked as quickly as I could. Once I had gotten it stitched up, I put some antibiotic ointment on it, and taped a gauze pad over it. I left him sleeping as I got everything cleaned up. I went to the journal to see if there was an explanation, but found nothing new. I sighed and settled in for a long night of worrying. I kept watch over Dean as I wondered about the bruises and what had happened to my Dean.
-----
I stood staring at Dean, wishing he’d wake up soon. I had just finished putting stitches in his back. I was pissed but mostly at myself for not noticing he was bleeding earlier. But when I had asked him if he was hurt, he had told me no. I started pacing again, wondering why he hadn’t said anything. I supposed at first he may not have felt any pain because of the adrenalin, but it should’ve hurt like hell on the drive back. I stopped pacing and looked again at my son. Not only was I worried about him, but I was worried about my real son, my 10 year old Dean. Where was he, how was he handling this? I went to the bathroom and got a cold, wet washcloth. I came back into the bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed. I brushed his hair out of his face and put the washcloth on his forehead. I may not say it often, but the boys were my world. It killed me to see either of them hurt, even if it was just a scraped knee. I’d never tell them that, just tell them to suck it up and keep going. His forehead was very hot and he had been sweating and I wondered briefly if he had a fever. As I sat there watching over him, the phone rang.
“Yeah?” I wasn’t in the mood for phone calls.
“John? It’s Jim. How are things going?” He sounded frazzled and I imagined that Sammy was giving him trouble.
“Dean’s hurt.” I sat down on the couch in the living room.
“What? When did he get back? Or do you mean the older one? What happened?”
“One question at a time. I mean the older one. We went on a hunt, should’ve been easy, I already knew who the ghosts were and we just had to salt and burn the bodies. We did that but I wanted to double check the place. When we did, he found a room that still had activity. It threw him around a bit before I got there. I guess it threw him into a mirror cause I had to pick out the glass from the cut. He didn’t say anything, Jim. I didn’t know he was hurt. By the time we got back to the house he’d lost a lot of blood. I stitched him up, but he’s not awake right now.”
Jim sighed. “Why did you go on a hunt, instead of trying to figure out how to get him home?”
“He was working on that, but said Sammy would fix it. He’s done this before so I figured I’d let Sammy fix it on his end. He probably has to do something with the statue, since Dean said that’s what happened last time. It was an easy job so I figured with the two of us it would go by a lot faster. I don’t know who that other ghost was, or if it was even a ghost. I suppose there could’ve been a poltergeist or something. I don’t know Jim, I just didn’t think it would be like that. How’s Sammy holding up?”
Jim chuckled. “He’s a little hellion as always. He wants his brother back and asks me almost hourly when Dean will be back. He also asked why you didn’t just kill the bad man who had taken his brother. I think though I’ve worn him down enough to stop thinking of the older Dean as a bad man. He’s fine John, just a little confused.”
I heard movement behind me, and turned to find Dean leaning against the hall. He was looking very pale and still sweating.
“Jim, I need to go, Dean’s up, I’ll call you back later, ok?” I didn’t wait for a response, but quickly hung up. I stood and walked over to him.
“What are you doing up?” I asked as I put my arm around him, intent on getting him back into bed.
“Thirsty, it’s hot. What happened?”
I led him back down to the bedroom. “You got cut, lost too much blood cause you didn’t tell me sooner. I think you have a fever. I’ll get you a drink and something to take for that.”
I got him settled back in bed, then got a glass of water and some Tylenol. While he was awake I checked the gauze. He had bled a little more, but nothing like he had before. He drank a lot of water and took the Tylenol, then laid back down and closed his eyes. When I was sure he was asleep I once again got a washcloth and placed it on his forehead. He was still very hot and sweating. I sighed.
“God kid, I don’t know what to do. You said we can trust your brother to fix this, but I just don’t know. It’s been 2 days, and I know you’re my son, but I miss my 10 year old boy. I hate not knowing where he his, I mean, I’m sure Sammy is keeping him safe. But he’s not here with me and that just isn’t right. I guess I just don’t know how much longer I can take not having my sons with me. And while I’m not sure what happened, I get that I’m not there anymore. I’m sorry that I’m not there for you and your brother.”
I closed my eyes and just listened to the steady, even breathing. Dean was safe, with Sammy and I know Sammy won’t let anything happen to him. In the mean time I needed to make sure I didn’t send Dean back in a much worse condition. I got up and took the washcloth into the bathroom then made sure there was a full glass of water on the night stand and more Tylenol. After that I headed to bed myself.
-----
My heart clenched as I listened to what my dad said. I knew he thought I was asleep, but I couldn’t bring myself to tell him differently. I wanted so badly to tell him what happened, but I couldn’t. I wanted to tell him about the demon, and Jess, and Sammy’s visions, and everything so that maybe he wouldn’t be dead when I got back. But there was no guarantee that it would change anything. Or that I would have a future to go back to if I did that. So I kept my eyes closed, my breathing even, and listened to him. When I heard him leave, and once I was sure he had gone to sleep I rolled gently onto my good side. I curled up and fell asleep deciding that tomorrow was soon enough to start thinking, but tonight I was too damned tired.
-----
Dean slept all the way through the night, but I hardly got any sleep. I sat awake watching him sleep. I was bound and determined to solve this and get my Dean back. So I worked all night on the remaining hieroglyphs. By the time morning arrived I was no better off. Dean woke up with a groan and I was at his side instantly.
“How are you feeling today?”
Dean gave me a look I was all too familiar with. “Like I got used as a punching bag one too many times.”
I frowned as I remembered the bruises.
“Where did you get those other bruises?”
Dean shook his head as he sat up gingerly. “I don’t know they just showed up. My feet are killing me too. I think that whatever happens to Dean in the past is happening to me too.”
I wondered what he was doing to warrant bruises and a cut that bad. I also wondered if it had something to do with Dad’s reaction to finding his son missing. I had a momentary chill at the thought of what Dean would be like if I got him back after he had been attacked by dad. But then I suppressed that and focused instead on checking the wound. It looked good, all things considered. He chose to put on an old shirt of Deans instead of his new shirt though. One that already was soaked in Dean’s blood since he used it frequently for the same reason. I knew I couldn’t take him out in public bruised and bloody so I left him in the room and went out for breakfast. When I got back he was reading over my notes from last night.
“Did you sleep?” he asked as soon as I walked in. I nodded, setting his food on his bed and taking mine and my coffee to the table. I flipped open dad’s journal just to see if there was anything new. To my surprise there was a note from dad on the same page that Dean had written on.
“Sammy, I don’t know if this works or not, but I thought I should warn you. Your brother got hurt, it’s not serious but he waited a while to tell me and it got infected. He also lost a lot of blood. He seems ok, but in case you solve this and he shows up unconscious that’s why. I see what he wrote above, and I wish I could say that I know how to fix this, but I really don’t. Take good care of your brother, both the younger one and the older one when you get him back. While he hasn’t said anything, I get the feeling that I’m no longer alive in your time. For that I’m sorry. Just remember that I’ve always been proud of you boys and I know I always will be. I think I hear him up now, so keep working on your end to fix this, and hopefully somehow we’ll get it fixed. Dad”
I didn’t realize I was crying until Dean appeared with a worried look on his face. I quickly closed the journal.
“It’s nothing, just a note from dad saying that Dean got hurt. I guess you really are suffering the same injuries as he is. I promise you we’ll get this fixed soon. One way or another.”
Dean nodded and went to finish his breakfast. I sipped my coffee while my brain processed everything. Dean was hurt, and so somehow his younger self was as well. Dad had somehow figured out that he wasn’t alive anymore in this time, but I had to make sure that stayed away from the younger Dean. I sighed and contemplated ways of getting them switched.