Your Dark Promise

Chapter 1

Full story trigger warnings: dark themes, sexual aggression, sexual assault, self harm, mentions of ptsd related symptoms, drug use, physical violence.

Dean was tapping his fingers nervously at his knee while glancing towards the driver in the front of the car. He pulled at his tie, unsure if he should have even bothered wearing one. His father sent for him, he never sends for him, and Dean was nervous about why.

He'd gotten to live a few years peace since what has been termed as 'the incident' occurred, staying in a private villa out in the countryside. He stayed to himself mostly when he could. But he still had training to attend to ordered by his father. So he trained in the gym, at the gun range, and in the ring with his coach. Unfortunately for both John and Dean, he was the best chance he had at someone taking his place when he stepped down. His younger brother Sammy not showing any interest in the family business. Dean almost rolls his eyes at even referring to it as that. His father was a crime boss, and his grandfather had been as well, but Dean figured two generations didn't make it as official as his father felt it did.

John Winchester had two sons. Dean and Samuel. Both were raised in the ways of underground crime, but Sammy never took it seriously, and Dean ever, being the people pleaser, did everything he could to be daddy's perfect little soldier. And he was good at doing whatever needed to be done, great at beating in faces, getting information, intimidating witnesses, whatever. But a few years ago, their enemies caught up to them, got one over on Dean, and took him, held him for ransom. They...did things to Dean. Things he told his father about once he fought his way out of their hold and crawled back home half dead. John couldn't risk his reputation getting ruined over 'the incident', and Dean couldn't function from day to day for a while. He definitely couldn't go back to the big scary thug he was.

So he was packed off. Hidden away from the public, from both enemies and allies alike. His guards at his home would sometimes let gossip slip, and the whole underworld of the city seemed to have their theories on the missing prince to the Winchester empire, none of them ever too close to the truth. So he was hid away and he enjoyed it. Spending most of his time discovering himself, finding out he enjoyed reading, cooking, and gardening. But to keep all pretense up and to keep his father happy, he filled most of his time with training to hopefully one day return to the fold.

Dean was hoping today was not that day. He wasn't ready. He didn't know if he ever would be, had been hoping with each year that passed that his brother would step up and become the new favorite. He never wanted the life for his brother, but Dean just might actually shatter to pieces if he was made to run the business. The driver pulled up to their formal mansion, and Dean steadied his nerves, tapping his fingers to his thumb one at a time and counting in his head. He didn't know if it was a good sign or not that he was summoned here to his dad's usual living quarters. Maybe this had nothing to do with the business. Maybe he just wanted to check on his progress. Maybe Dean could show him earnestly that he still wasn't ready, and John would go back to hiding him away.

Dean stepped from the car, buttoning his suit jacket and fixing his hair before walking for the entrance steps. He spotted cars he wasn't familiar with in the expansive front drive but thought nothing of this as there was bound to always be guests over. A familiar doorman let him in without sparing him a glance. His father's assistant walking at his side to lead him to the man he never once felt close to. When his large heavy office door was opened, Dean became even more nervous. He tried to keep his face from paling as he took in the large room filled with faces he both knew and did not. Sammy was by the door looking him over, confused, so he didn't even know what's going on then. He swallowed the lump in his throat and made his way to his father at the head of the conference table filled with men.

John spared him a glance, looking him up and down. No emotion or any sort of tell to his face to clue Dean into what this was all about. Dean kept his hand to his side, tapping his fingers rhythmically to keep himself poised as a statue the way he knew his father wanted him. "Turn around. And acknowledge our esteemed guests, Dean." His father said in a low threatening voice.

Dean turned to the packed table, glancing over the men there. He didn't recognize half of them, which oddly relaxed him a little. He gave a little bow of his head, "Gentleman." He said, not knowing what else to say since he had no idea what this was about. John pulled the chair beside him out for him, and Dean unbuttoned his jacket and sat down dutifully.

"He's here. Now what?" John said, looking at the far end of the table. Dean looked confused from his dad to the man sat at the other end.

"Well, well. I am impressed. Word on the street is that your first born was dead. Others said insane. But he looks the picture of health to me." The strange man said, leaning back in his chair.

Dean looked the man over. He was older than Dean by a hadful of years, smaller stature and build to him. Dean definitely had the muscle over him, but the look behind the mans striking blue eyes sent a shiver through him. He didn't think this was a man to be messed with. "My son is perfectly fine. If anyone says otherwise, they can answer to me." John said, thumping the table angrily. Dean knew this wasn't a sentimental statement, but one of stubborn pride that he, his organization, and his family all ran smoothly as a swiss watch, not a flaw to be had.

The man at the end of the table just twirled a pen in his hands, "Noted." He said with a smile, bringing the pen to his teeth for a moment. As if he were holding back some bigger emotion Dean couldn't even guess at. Looking around the room, he realized the man was one of the smallest here. He looked more like some corporate desk jockey than a hardened criminal like the rest of them. Dean thought if he needed to, he could easily take the man down without much hassle at all, but all his lackeys staring him down told him otherwise. "So, your debts." The man said with a smirk.

"Yes. I'm aware I've defaulted on a few shipment payments. But as soon as I can move some product you'll have it." John said, tightening his fist on the table.

Debts? He's never known his father to fall into debt to anyone. They were in the top five crime organizations of the country, the second in the city. What had his father done to that in two years' time?

"Well, I think we can forget those debts. Easily." The man shrugged, still smirking.

"And what's the price?" John said in a low threatening tone.

The dark-haired man turned his blue eyes to Dean. "Him." He said, never losing the smirk on his lips.