Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1123321.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Supernatural
  Relationship:
      John_Winchester/Dean_Winchester
  Character:
      John_Winchester, Dean_Winchester, Mention_of_Sam_-_Character
  Additional Tags:
      dream_-_Freeform, Gore, Blood, Violence, Dark_Imagery, Drabble
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-01-06 Words: 497
****** Dreaming in Black and White ******
by orphan_account
Summary
     John and Adult Dean are in a consensual relationship. Dream Dean is
     "young" and the situation is non-con, but alas, it's just a dream. I
     do not condone the abuse of Dean, mud, or blindfolds in this story.
Notes
     Disclaimer: I don't own these lovely characters. The CW owns
     Supernatural. Kripke is the masterbuilder in the SPN universe.
****   ****
 
John reaches towards Dean.  It’s a force of habit, to make sure Dean is still
with him.  Moonlight shines through the window, whispering upon Dean’s smooth,
freckled back.
 
“Hey old man,” Dean says.
 
“I’m not old.”
 
“It’s good then, that I see with my heart and not through my eyes.”
 
John’s laugh rumbles into Dean’s hair. Soon his son’s deep breathing lulls John
into a suffocating, hot, slumber.
 
 
***
 
Everything is cast in black and white. Chiaroscuro dominates the rocks and
cliff and mossy ground.  Thunder shakes beneath them. Lightning lights up the
sunless sky. The stratus clouds sail above, menacing, as if they had limbs to
reach out and strangle the man and the boy.
 
“You can let me go.”
 
“I can’t.”
 
John pins Dean’s wrist against the slick, muddy ground.
 
“You let Sam go.”
 
John stabs one wrist with a rusty, metal, spike; impaling Dean’s wrist into the
slippery ground beneath them. Dean’s body convulses beneath John, struggling to
push John off with his free hand. John wrestles the other hand to the ground
and does the same. It’s difficult this time. John huffs twice, and finally the
skin gives way and the spike glides into the ground.
 
The yells are deafening. A constant cry of Daddy…No…Daddy vibrates in John’s
ears.
 
“I couldn’t let Sam see me or you. But you don’t need your eyes. Do you, Dean?”
 
John pulls out a serrated, Marine hunting knife. Slowly, with soft cooing
noises, he carves out Dean’s left eye. John is careless and scratches the
surrounding skin. Dean’s screams drown amidst the sound of thunder. Blood oozes
down Dean’s face.  John utilizes the tip of the knife to etch out the other
eye. The eyes disappear in the fall of black rain.
 
“Let me help you.”  John wraps a cloth around Dean’s eyes. Black tears streak
Dean’s face.  It begins to flow, down Dean’s face, onto his neck and down his
muscled torso.
 
John pulls on Dean’s muddied legs, ignoring the thrashing. John pushes in
without prep, ripping past the fighting muscle to slide inside.
 
“Dad.” Rain falls upon Dean's lips. “Dad...Stop...Please.”
 
“You won’t let me,” John says careening in, pulling out, and pistoning into the
hot, comforting, tightness.
 
Blood soaks through the blindfold, surprisingly a deep red against the gray
landscape.
 
John maintains a blistering pace. 
 
“I don’t want this.”
 
“Shut up. I hate that mouth of yours. It’s really only good for sucking
cock.”  John’s hands drive the metal spikes deeper, opening new wounds in
Dean’s wrists.
 
 
***
 
 
“Dean,” John screams, sitting upright in bed.  He catches a flash of silver at
the corner of his eye.
 
“What’s going on?” Dean says.
 
“Bad dream. Put the knife away,” John says, cringing.
 
“You sure?” Dean says. He gets up and checks the salt lines. His nude body
shimmers, bathing in moonlight. He secures his knife back underneath his
pillow. “Really?”
 
Dean’s eyes look hollow and black in the absence of light.
 
“Yeah, I’m sure."
 
 
 
 
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
their work!