No.15 - Blog Posts

DAY 15: The Father's Mistakes Fall on the Son's Shoulders

The cycle repeats itself.

For this prompt, I was hesitating between Dean&John and Jack&Dean but my little sister suggested I do both so you'll have both. This story is not intended to bash characters but rather to show sons hurt by the actions of their parent figure and fathers realizing, too late, their mistakes. Because let's be honest, I love Dean but the way he treats Jack is often horrible and you might think he would learn from the way his own father raised him but noo. (Also, Dean is 17/18 in the first chapter.) Fandom: Supernatural Character(s): Dean Winchester Relationship(s): Dean Winchester & John Winchester, Jack Kline & Dean Winchester Words Count: 1,115 Trigger Warnings: - Minor Burn - Minor Blood and Injury - Dean's Canonical Self-Esteem Issues No. 15: CHILDHOOD TRAUMA Painful Hug | Moment of Clarity | "I did good, right?"

Dean’s fingers were numb from the cold as he desperately tried to light his lighter. Every time he failed was another minute of Dad risking his life distracting the ghost. The metal dug painfully into his thumb with each failure and blood was already starting to trickle down his wrist.

“Come on, come on,” Dean whispered, his words forming a cloud of condensation in the abandoned house. Dean wasn’t sure if it was the freezing February temperatures or if the ghost had somehow escaped Dad but he didn’t plan on staying long enough to find out. “ Come on! ”

Finally, finally , a small flame flickered at the end of his lighter and Dean wasted no time in throwing his lighter into the hearth of the fireplace where the ghost's bones already lay covered in salt. The fire caught instantly, burning the tips of Dean's fingers when he didn't pull his hand away fast enough. He hissed in pain, blisters forming on his index and middle fingers.

Somewhere up the stairs, the ghost screamed as its soul was destroyed in a burst of yellow light.

Dean flopped down on the moth-eaten floorboards, kicking up a cloud of dust big enough to make him cough. When he opened his eyes again, Dad was in front of him, one hand out to help him up and his gun in the other.

“You really took your sweet time here,” Dad joked, but Dean couldn’t help but flinch. Dad either didn’t notice or chose to ignore it. “Let’s go find Sammy, he must be freezing out there.”

Dean grabbed his dad’s hand with his left and let himself be pulled to his feet. Dad looked at his face suspiciously.

“What’s wrong?” Dad asked.

(If they were a normal family, Dean would say it was worry that made his father frown. But normal families didn’t hunt deadly ghosts in the middle of the night, and Dean knew better.)

“Nothing,” Dean replied, hiding his hand in his jacket pocket, the sensitive skin of his fingers catching in the zipper.

“Dean,” Dad sighed, grabbing Dean’s elbow and forcing his hand out of his pocket. “Stop being so stubborn all the time.”

Dad tugged sharply at Dean's arm and grabbed his wrist, directing his hand toward the light of the flames. He whistled loudly as he saw the blisters forming on Dean's fingertips.

"I think we have some Biafine left in the car, you can ask Sammy to bandage you up," Dad ordered.

"There's no point," Dean protested, not wanting to waste bandages on a wound that would go away on its own in a few days.

"What did I just say?" Dad sighed. "Stop being so stubborn all the damn time. I don't want your dominant hand immobilized any longer than necessary."

It made sense. With his burn, Dean's grip on his gun wouldn't be as effective.

"And why are your hands so cold?" Dad asked, taking Dean's hands in his to warm them up, being careful with his injured fingers. "Don't you have gloves?"

"I gave them to Sammy, his had holes in them," Dean replied.

For a moment, they said nothing and Dean enjoyed the warmth of Dad's hands against his own. He was too old to hold his father's hand anymore but he missed it sometimes, the casual affection of the early days. An arm around his shoulders, a hand in his hair, a hug when he was scared.

But part of Dad had died with Mom in the fire and Dean didn't know how much of the soldier or father had survived.

"Come on Dee, let's get you warm," Dad said, letting go of his hands.

Dean was next to a fire but he had never been so cold. He followed his father's lead, shivering in his jacket with holes in his elbows. The drafts of the house wrapped around Dean like ghosts.

Outside the abandoned house, Sam stood watch next to the car, kicking the gravel to pass the time. When he saw Dean come out of the house, the kid's face lit up and Dean couldn't help but smile back.

"Hey Sammy, haven't you been too bored without me?" greeted Dean with a lazy smile.

Sam didn't have time to answer, a ghost flickered behind him as ice creeped up the car windows.

(Protect Sammy!)

Dean rushed toward Sam, shoving him out of the ghost’s reach with one arm and making a wide circle with the other, hitting the ghost with the iron-clad butt of his pistol. The ghost disappeared but not before briefly digging its hand into Dean’s ribcage and holding Dean’s heart ready to rip it out. A bitter cold gripped Dean and he collapsed to the ground, coughing up blood.

The ghost rematerialized a few feet away, Dean’s blood staining his shirt. Dad slammed the trunk of the car shut, yelling at Sam to duck and shooting salt at the ghost with his rifle.

His vision darkened and the screams of Dad and Sam grew distant around him, stretching out until Dean no longer recognized their voices. There was a flash of light, then silence.

(Dean was so cold.)

Arms wrapped around his shoulders, pulling him almost painfully against someone’s chest. The heavy grip around his arms was sure to leave bruises tomorrow and his aching ribs protested, a throbbing pain almost making it hard to breathe. Still, Dean wanted the person to never let go of him again.

Leather and tobacco.

“Dad?” Dean asked, his voice muffled in his father’s jacket. “I did good, right? I saved Sammy.”

“You did very well, son,” Dad answered, his voice strangely strangled. “I’m proud of you.”

Dean looked up and oh , Dad was crying. Why was Dad crying?

“It  hurts,” Dean said, the pain turning his vision white.

“I know, I’m sorry,” Dad apologized, his hand cradling Dean’s head tenderly, like he’d taught Dean to do when Sammy was a newborn. “We’re going to take you to the hospital.”

(Why was Dad apologizing? It wasn't his fault. Dean should have been faster. But he was so slow tonight.)

"Can we go home now?" Dean asked weakly, his eyes fluttering with fatigue.

There was blood on Dad's jacket in the shape of Dean's handprints. Everything he touched ended up covered in blood.

"Sure," Dad replied.

A familiar weight fell on his shoulders (leather and tobacco) as arms slid under his knees and armpits to lift him off the ground. Dean's feet left the ground and he bit back a gag as his head spun and spun.

(Dean wasn't cold anymore.)

"I'm sorry, Dean," Dad whispered as he walked toward the car.

There were still tears in his eyes.

Day 15: Into the unknown || Possession 

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: 文豪ストレイドッグス | Bungou Stray Dogs Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Nakahara Chuuya/Nakajima Atsushi (Bungou Stray Dogs) Characters: Nakahara Chuuya (Bungou Stray Dogs), Nakajima Atsushi (Bungou Stray Dogs) Additional Tags: Dehumanization, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Nakajima Atsushi Needs a Hug (Bungou Stray Dogs), Nakahara Chuuya Needs a Hug (Bungou Stray Dogs), Nightmares, Childhood Trauma, Whumptober 2024 Summary:

The world was dark. So, so endlessly dark. Even on the days Atsushi was able to step outside, to feel the sun hitting his skin and to hear the laughter of the other children, it was all so dark and cold. The warmth of the sun felt distant, and the laughter grated against his ears, a symphony of sounds he could not make, a joy he could not know.

Atsushi relives his past during a nightmare, comfort is given, a lifelong question is answered.

Finally finished another whumptober prompt! This is my first time writing for ChuuAtsu so I hope yall like it!

Shifty was faced with his worst nightmare; he was back in the hands of scientists. He turned into his mind for solace; remembering a past that had changed his life for the better.