Near Death Experiences
“Dean! Dean, where the hell are you!” John was running through the woods as fast as two feet of snow would allow. Dean was supposed to have met him at the trailhead half an hour ago and it was ten below zero with the windchill in the New Hampshire forest. The trail branched and John headed to the right, down the trail Dean had taken to set up his part of the ambush for the black dog that had been hunting this area. The dog hadn’t come John’s way and from all the tracking they had done, it should have headed straight past Dean. Dean who hadn’t been at the rendezvous point. Dean who wasn’t answering. Dean who was eighteen and invincible and God please let him be alright.
John got to where Dean had set up his blind, but his son was nowhere in sight. The snow was trampled down around the shelter, signs of a struggle that led off into the woods. John followed the trail, gun drawn, heart in his throat. About twenty yards in, bright red began to dot the snow and he continued on in grim silence, trying to still his racing pulse. If Dean was hurt he’d need to take care of the black dog and get his boy out of here. If Dean was beyond hurt…well, he’d still need to take care of the black dog and get his boy out of here. But he wasn’t going there. He’d learned that you underestimated Dean at your own risk. Dean was alive until proven otherwise.
John rounded the next turn and rushed forward, dropping to his knees beside the body of his son. Before he’d hit the ground, one hand was reaching for Dean’s neck, the other probing the bloody lump at his temple. Dean’s pulse was there, thready and slow but there, a gently throbbing proof of life beneath John’s fingers. John propped up Dean’s eyelids to make sure his pupils were even and he sighed in relief as they contracted in the light reflecting off the snow. Dean was soaked through and shivering, half conscious as he sat, leaning against the trunk of a tree, blood soaked knife clutched tight in his hand. John spared a glance over at the body of the black dog, sprawled in the snow, guts dripping from its split belly and steaming in the frigid air.
John’s lip curled at it as he spoke, though it was past hearing anything he said. “Underestimated him, didn’t you, motherfucker. Pretty boy comes hunting you, you think he’s easy meat? Not my boy. He don’t want you messing with him, he’s going to take you down. “ John got his arms under Dean and levered him up until he was cradled against John’s chest. Dean murmured and curled up in John’s arms shivering as he tried to burrow into his father’s warmth. “I got you, baby. It’s okay. You’re way too big to be carried, but I can’t see as I’ve got any choice here. “ John lowered his head and pressed a kiss to the back of Dean’s neck. “Gonna get you back to the car and out of these wet clothes. Take you back to the cabin, nice warm bath, get you all warmed up. How’s that sound?”
Dean’s hands gripped his father’s jacket tightly and he raised his head with effort. His teeth chattered, but he managed to force out the words. “Y..you g-g-gonna t-t-take that b-b-bath with m-me? N-nob-body w-warms m-m-me up like y-you d-d-do.”
John smiled and brushed his lips across Dean’s. “Whatever you want, sweetheart.”
“ ‘k-kay.” Dean dropped his head and was silent until they reached the Impala half an hour later. John deposited Dean gently on the back seat and ran around to get the car started and warmed up, then went to the trunk to grab blankets. He climbed into the back seat with Dean and began to strip the sodden clothes from his son’s body. When all Dean’s clothes were in a pile on the floor, John rubbed his shaking body down with the blanket. The wound on Dean’s head was the only one he found, though the shoulder of Dean’s jacket was shredded from where the black dog had dragged him. “C-c-cold, D-daddy.”
“I know, baby. I’m working on it.” John removed his leather jacket and wrapped its warmth around Dean before bundling him up in two more dry blankets. “We’ll be back at the cabin in ten minutes, Dean. Just hang on.” John climbed into the driver’s seat and headed the Impala for the cabin they’d rented on the outskirts of the forest. True to his word, John was carrying Dean through the cabin’s front door ten minutes later. The cabin was empty, Sam was staying with Pastor Jim while his father and brother went on this hunt, and John hurried to lay Dean down on the nearest bed. Dean groaned as his father probed the area around his head wound. “What happened, Dean? Do you hurt anywhere but your head?”
“Dunno,” Dean mumbled. “Think I h-hit a t-tree after it grabbed me. M-my h-head hurts b-but the rest of m-me is k-kind’a numb.”
“Okay. I’m going to start the tub and then I’ll come back and clean up that head wound.” John ran his hand over Dean’s hair and went to get warm water running in the bath and to collect some Tylenol and antiseptic for Dean’s head. When John returned, Dean was huddled even further into the blankets, head lolling against the pillows. “Hey. Hey, Dean, no sleeping. Not yet. You’ve got to stay awake for me kiddo.” When John started to dab gently at the knot on Dean’s forehead, Dean pulled away with a hiss. “Sorry, Dean. But I’ve got to do this and then we can get you into the tub and warm you up some.”
“ ‘s okay, D-dad. T-tub s-s-soon?”
John nodded as he rubbed antiseptic into his son’s wound, then unwound the blankets Dean was wrapped in. Dean’s arms were clenched across his chest, fists tight in the lapels of John’s leather jacket. John tried to pry Dean’s fingers loose, but Dean just huddled down and held on.
“Come on, Dean, let me take this off.”
“Warm.” Dean muttered.
“I know, baby, but it’s not warm enough. Okay, you just keep it on for another minute.” John stood and began to remove his own clothes. When he had stripped down to nothing, he spoke again. “Come on now, Dean. Let me take the coat and get us into that tub so you can get warm.”
Dean stared at his father through hazy eyes. “ ‘kay,” he whispered and let his father strip him of the jacket. John picked him up and carried him to the bathroom where he lowered both of them into the warm water. John leaned back against the rim of the tub and the cold tile, cradling Dean’s back against the warmth of his chest. He wrapped one arm around his son’s waist while the other scooped handfuls of water and ran the warmth over Dean’s head, across his chest, down his arms. Dean’s shivering subsided and he laid his head against his father’s shoulder with a shuddering sigh.
“ ‘s not what we usually do in the tub.” He pushed his hips back into his father’s crotch. “ ‘s the matter?”
John continued to distribute warm water over all the exposed parts of Dean. “Near death experiences don’t exactly put me in the mood.”
“You had a near death experience?” Dean sounded sleepy and confused.
John lowered his head and his breath came out in a hot gust against Dean’s neck. “No, baby, you did.”
“I did?”
“Yeah.”
“Don’t remember.” Dean closed his eyes and totally relaxed against his father, breaths deepening as he fell into sleep.
John’s lips brushed Dean’s neck. “It’s okay son, I’ll remember enough for the both of us.” He held Dean in the warmth of the tub for a few more minutes then got the two of them out and dried before putting Dean to bed and covering him with every blanket in the room. He put a bottle of water, more Tylenol and some towels within reach before sliding beneath the covers and pulling Dean’s back tightly against his chest. If his boy woke during the night, John didn’t want to have to leave him to get anything.
John lay awake for a long while breathing in Dean’s scent and feeling his boy’s chest expand and contract in his arms. It was dangerous, what they did. The life he had brought his sons into. Days like today underscored it. Days like today terrified him, but he didn’t know how to stop. And now Dean didn’t know how to stop. Dean would go where his father went, do what his father did, and John knew how wrong their relationship was but God help him, he couldn’t stop this either. Didn’t know how anymore. Eventually he fell asleep to the sound of his son’s quiet breaths.
When John woke the room was lit by sunlight streaming through the blinds. Dean had shifted position in the night, now he and his father were chest to chest and John felt Dean’s morning wood poking at his stomach. John tried to gently untangle himself from his son, who was wrapped around him like an octopus, but Dean just clung tighter. John could hear Dean’s panting breaths just like he’d heard them a hundred other mornings, but these were different. These were gasps of pain, not pleasure. John carefully but firmly moved Dean away from him and his son looked up at him with desperate eyes.
“Daddy,” Dean moaned. “Daddy, I need…”
“It’s okay, baby,” John murmured. “I know what you need.” He carefully settled Dean against him, wrapping one arm around his waist and nestling Dean’s head against his shoulder. “How’s your head this morning.”
“It’s okay.” Dean replied faintly, the tight crease between his eyes giving the lie to his words.
John smiled. “Of course it is. Now just lie still and let me take care of you.” John dropped his head down to brush his lips against Dean’s as his hand wrapped gently around his son’s erection and started to stroke. Dean groaned and then hissed in pain as he threw his head back and it connected with his father’s shoulder. John’s hand continued to move, stroking and twisting on Dean’s shaft, kneading his balls, thumb sliding through the slickness over the head and he kept his voice soothing. “No, baby, don’t move. Daddy’s going to take care of you.” It wasn’t long before Dean moaned and turned his face into his father’s neck as his hips jerked, come erupting over his belly. John held him until his shuddering gasps quieted to normal breaths then took a towel off the bed table and wiped him clean.
Dean pressed a kiss to the side of John’s neck and let his own shaking hand wander down towards his father’s erection, but John caught him with a firm “no.” John could feel Dean trembling against him in pain and exhaustion.
Dean protested, as his father expected. “No, dad. You took care of me, I can’t just make you do it yourself.”
John pressed another kiss to Dean’s lips. “I’ll give you a raincheck. When you’re feeling better you can take care of me to your heart’s content. Right now, I’ll take care of myself.”
“Deal, if we take our time on the way back to Blue Earth, ‘cause I can’t take care of you much with Sammy around” Dean whispered, raising his head to stare at his father with clearing eyes. “But if you’re taking care of yourself now, I want to watch.”
Dean’s eyes traveled down as John took himself in hand and began to jerk himself off. He wasn’t as gentle or easy as he had been with Dean, hand rubbing and tugging and twisting as his eyes never left his son’s face. Dean licked his lips as John got close and that was enough to have him shooting over his hand and all the way to his chest. John cleaned himself with another towel and settled Dean back on the pillows.
“Gotta get up now and see about getting us something to eat. Then I need to go take care of the carcass you provided me with out in the woods. You need anything before I go?”
“Nah, I’m good now,” Dean whispered, eyes already half closed as he sank back into sleep.
“You’re better than good, baby, “ John whispered, running his hand through Dean’s hair. “You’re alive.”
John got to where Dean had set up his blind, but his son was nowhere in sight. The snow was trampled down around the shelter, signs of a struggle that led off into the woods. John followed the trail, gun drawn, heart in his throat. About twenty yards in, bright red began to dot the snow and he continued on in grim silence, trying to still his racing pulse. If Dean was hurt he’d need to take care of the black dog and get his boy out of here. If Dean was beyond hurt…well, he’d still need to take care of the black dog and get his boy out of here. But he wasn’t going there. He’d learned that you underestimated Dean at your own risk. Dean was alive until proven otherwise.
John rounded the next turn and rushed forward, dropping to his knees beside the body of his son. Before he’d hit the ground, one hand was reaching for Dean’s neck, the other probing the bloody lump at his temple. Dean’s pulse was there, thready and slow but there, a gently throbbing proof of life beneath John’s fingers. John propped up Dean’s eyelids to make sure his pupils were even and he sighed in relief as they contracted in the light reflecting off the snow. Dean was soaked through and shivering, half conscious as he sat, leaning against the trunk of a tree, blood soaked knife clutched tight in his hand. John spared a glance over at the body of the black dog, sprawled in the snow, guts dripping from its split belly and steaming in the frigid air.
John’s lip curled at it as he spoke, though it was past hearing anything he said. “Underestimated him, didn’t you, motherfucker. Pretty boy comes hunting you, you think he’s easy meat? Not my boy. He don’t want you messing with him, he’s going to take you down. “ John got his arms under Dean and levered him up until he was cradled against John’s chest. Dean murmured and curled up in John’s arms shivering as he tried to burrow into his father’s warmth. “I got you, baby. It’s okay. You’re way too big to be carried, but I can’t see as I’ve got any choice here. “ John lowered his head and pressed a kiss to the back of Dean’s neck. “Gonna get you back to the car and out of these wet clothes. Take you back to the cabin, nice warm bath, get you all warmed up. How’s that sound?”
Dean’s hands gripped his father’s jacket tightly and he raised his head with effort. His teeth chattered, but he managed to force out the words. “Y..you g-g-gonna t-t-take that b-b-bath with m-me? N-nob-body w-warms m-m-me up like y-you d-d-do.”
John smiled and brushed his lips across Dean’s. “Whatever you want, sweetheart.”
“ ‘k-kay.” Dean dropped his head and was silent until they reached the Impala half an hour later. John deposited Dean gently on the back seat and ran around to get the car started and warmed up, then went to the trunk to grab blankets. He climbed into the back seat with Dean and began to strip the sodden clothes from his son’s body. When all Dean’s clothes were in a pile on the floor, John rubbed his shaking body down with the blanket. The wound on Dean’s head was the only one he found, though the shoulder of Dean’s jacket was shredded from where the black dog had dragged him. “C-c-cold, D-daddy.”
“I know, baby. I’m working on it.” John removed his leather jacket and wrapped its warmth around Dean before bundling him up in two more dry blankets. “We’ll be back at the cabin in ten minutes, Dean. Just hang on.” John climbed into the driver’s seat and headed the Impala for the cabin they’d rented on the outskirts of the forest. True to his word, John was carrying Dean through the cabin’s front door ten minutes later. The cabin was empty, Sam was staying with Pastor Jim while his father and brother went on this hunt, and John hurried to lay Dean down on the nearest bed. Dean groaned as his father probed the area around his head wound. “What happened, Dean? Do you hurt anywhere but your head?”
“Dunno,” Dean mumbled. “Think I h-hit a t-tree after it grabbed me. M-my h-head hurts b-but the rest of m-me is k-kind’a numb.”
“Okay. I’m going to start the tub and then I’ll come back and clean up that head wound.” John ran his hand over Dean’s hair and went to get warm water running in the bath and to collect some Tylenol and antiseptic for Dean’s head. When John returned, Dean was huddled even further into the blankets, head lolling against the pillows. “Hey. Hey, Dean, no sleeping. Not yet. You’ve got to stay awake for me kiddo.” When John started to dab gently at the knot on Dean’s forehead, Dean pulled away with a hiss. “Sorry, Dean. But I’ve got to do this and then we can get you into the tub and warm you up some.”
“ ‘s okay, D-dad. T-tub s-s-soon?”
John nodded as he rubbed antiseptic into his son’s wound, then unwound the blankets Dean was wrapped in. Dean’s arms were clenched across his chest, fists tight in the lapels of John’s leather jacket. John tried to pry Dean’s fingers loose, but Dean just huddled down and held on.
“Come on, Dean, let me take this off.”
“Warm.” Dean muttered.
“I know, baby, but it’s not warm enough. Okay, you just keep it on for another minute.” John stood and began to remove his own clothes. When he had stripped down to nothing, he spoke again. “Come on now, Dean. Let me take the coat and get us into that tub so you can get warm.”
Dean stared at his father through hazy eyes. “ ‘kay,” he whispered and let his father strip him of the jacket. John picked him up and carried him to the bathroom where he lowered both of them into the warm water. John leaned back against the rim of the tub and the cold tile, cradling Dean’s back against the warmth of his chest. He wrapped one arm around his son’s waist while the other scooped handfuls of water and ran the warmth over Dean’s head, across his chest, down his arms. Dean’s shivering subsided and he laid his head against his father’s shoulder with a shuddering sigh.
“ ‘s not what we usually do in the tub.” He pushed his hips back into his father’s crotch. “ ‘s the matter?”
John continued to distribute warm water over all the exposed parts of Dean. “Near death experiences don’t exactly put me in the mood.”
“You had a near death experience?” Dean sounded sleepy and confused.
John lowered his head and his breath came out in a hot gust against Dean’s neck. “No, baby, you did.”
“I did?”
“Yeah.”
“Don’t remember.” Dean closed his eyes and totally relaxed against his father, breaths deepening as he fell into sleep.
John’s lips brushed Dean’s neck. “It’s okay son, I’ll remember enough for the both of us.” He held Dean in the warmth of the tub for a few more minutes then got the two of them out and dried before putting Dean to bed and covering him with every blanket in the room. He put a bottle of water, more Tylenol and some towels within reach before sliding beneath the covers and pulling Dean’s back tightly against his chest. If his boy woke during the night, John didn’t want to have to leave him to get anything.
John lay awake for a long while breathing in Dean’s scent and feeling his boy’s chest expand and contract in his arms. It was dangerous, what they did. The life he had brought his sons into. Days like today underscored it. Days like today terrified him, but he didn’t know how to stop. And now Dean didn’t know how to stop. Dean would go where his father went, do what his father did, and John knew how wrong their relationship was but God help him, he couldn’t stop this either. Didn’t know how anymore. Eventually he fell asleep to the sound of his son’s quiet breaths.
When John woke the room was lit by sunlight streaming through the blinds. Dean had shifted position in the night, now he and his father were chest to chest and John felt Dean’s morning wood poking at his stomach. John tried to gently untangle himself from his son, who was wrapped around him like an octopus, but Dean just clung tighter. John could hear Dean’s panting breaths just like he’d heard them a hundred other mornings, but these were different. These were gasps of pain, not pleasure. John carefully but firmly moved Dean away from him and his son looked up at him with desperate eyes.
“Daddy,” Dean moaned. “Daddy, I need…”
“It’s okay, baby,” John murmured. “I know what you need.” He carefully settled Dean against him, wrapping one arm around his waist and nestling Dean’s head against his shoulder. “How’s your head this morning.”
“It’s okay.” Dean replied faintly, the tight crease between his eyes giving the lie to his words.
John smiled. “Of course it is. Now just lie still and let me take care of you.” John dropped his head down to brush his lips against Dean’s as his hand wrapped gently around his son’s erection and started to stroke. Dean groaned and then hissed in pain as he threw his head back and it connected with his father’s shoulder. John’s hand continued to move, stroking and twisting on Dean’s shaft, kneading his balls, thumb sliding through the slickness over the head and he kept his voice soothing. “No, baby, don’t move. Daddy’s going to take care of you.” It wasn’t long before Dean moaned and turned his face into his father’s neck as his hips jerked, come erupting over his belly. John held him until his shuddering gasps quieted to normal breaths then took a towel off the bed table and wiped him clean.
Dean pressed a kiss to the side of John’s neck and let his own shaking hand wander down towards his father’s erection, but John caught him with a firm “no.” John could feel Dean trembling against him in pain and exhaustion.
Dean protested, as his father expected. “No, dad. You took care of me, I can’t just make you do it yourself.”
John pressed another kiss to Dean’s lips. “I’ll give you a raincheck. When you’re feeling better you can take care of me to your heart’s content. Right now, I’ll take care of myself.”
“Deal, if we take our time on the way back to Blue Earth, ‘cause I can’t take care of you much with Sammy around” Dean whispered, raising his head to stare at his father with clearing eyes. “But if you’re taking care of yourself now, I want to watch.”
Dean’s eyes traveled down as John took himself in hand and began to jerk himself off. He wasn’t as gentle or easy as he had been with Dean, hand rubbing and tugging and twisting as his eyes never left his son’s face. Dean licked his lips as John got close and that was enough to have him shooting over his hand and all the way to his chest. John cleaned himself with another towel and settled Dean back on the pillows.
“Gotta get up now and see about getting us something to eat. Then I need to go take care of the carcass you provided me with out in the woods. You need anything before I go?”
“Nah, I’m good now,” Dean whispered, eyes already half closed as he sank back into sleep.
“You’re better than good, baby, “ John whispered, running his hand through Dean’s hair. “You’re alive.”