Then and Now

Life is harsh pt. 2

Dean

The warehouse was huge, old and abandon. A heavy silence settles over the area as he shuts the Impala off, nervously fumbling with the safety on his gun. This was it. Time to make like a lamb to the slaughter... yep that was not a smart line of thought to go down. 

On wobbly legs, Dean climbs out of the car and pats her sleek black hood in farewell. "Thanks for giving me one hell of a ride, old girl."

The walk to the warehouse entrance seemed to stretch on forever. The front door had a broken chain slung across it, the padlock lying useless on the ground. He wondered whether it had been recently unlocked. 

Shoving the large metal door open, he winces as the scraping sound reverberates throughout the cavernous space. 

Holy heck was this place creepy, Dean shivers as goosebumps appear on his bare arms. 

"Deano! How kind of you to join me!" 

Dean freezes, because standing in front of him was - at last - his parent's murderer. Only... Dean frowns, blinking furiously. This was impossible.

"Ah, I see you've noticed our surprise guest here," the mad man grin wildly, his teeth flashing in the darkness. "We were just talking about you!"

Dean feels as though the world had dropped from under him. His grip on his gun slackens, in that moment his entire life felt as though it had been flipped on its head. Because sitting in front of him, tied to a pillar, was a man that looked an awful lot like his father, only older.

"Dad?" Dean can't believe it. He had seen his father's body on that night all those long years ago. 

Only, he hadn't. Not really. He had only seen his father lying on the ground, they had never seen his body clearly, no they had been too busy fleeing. 

"Din din din! Plot twist, am I right?" The man jumps gleefully, "isn't this fun?"

Dean, still too shocked to form a proper reply, can only blink at the bloodied face of his father.

"Oi boy, didn't your mother teach you any manners? Oh wait..."

John growls, tugging at his restraints. His expression livid under the blood and bruises.

"Oh I just love family reunions," the man grinned.

"Who the hell are you anyway?" Dean grips his gun tighter. He didn't know what on earth was going on but he wasn't interested in playing any games.

"Azazel, at your service," the man, Azazel, does a dramatically mocking bow.

Dean let's out a shuddering breath. 11 years later and he finally knew the name of the man that had ruined his life.

"Now, if I remember correctly it was you who killed one of my friends 2 years back, do you remember that?"

Dean tries not to, but standing here now with the weight of the gun in his hand, he can't help but remember the feeling of horror as he watched the bullets hit the man. The sound of his body hitting the ground.

Azazel laughs, "oh I know that look in your eye, you're bloodied boy, haunted."

Dean can't bring himself to look at the man that was his father - a fact he still couldn't believe - blood  pounded in his ears. The gun seemed to weigh a tonne in his shaky hands, he couldn't seem to keep his finger on the trigger.

"You're a killer now boy."

"I'm not." Dean gritted his teeth.

"Really? Because I also happen to recall finding another one of my 'friends' dead near Seattle."