"Is this what your mother would have wanted?" John said and he knew it was a step too far in the wrong direction when Dean's face closed down like a switch had been turned. But John hadn't been thinking, too shocked to even realize what he was saying. Dean. His Dean had been whoring himself out and John hadn't even noticed.
"She would have wanted Sammy to get fed when you were away." Dean said and his voice wasn't afraid or defensive anymore, his eyes weren't ashamed. John stared at him, numb beyond his shock, trying to reconcile his little boy with the angry, broken man in front of him. "She would have wanted us not to get kicked out of motels when you didn't leave enough cash. She would have wanted better than you for us, but couldn't have asked more from me!"
John didn't know what he was doing until Dean was on the ground, face turned away with the force of the strike to his face, an angry red welt already showing on his too-pale skin.
Dean just looked at him with dead eyes as he stood back up and John knew what would happen, but he didn't fight back when Dean's fist flew and he landed a solid right on John's jaw, making him stumble. John didn't fight back when Dean hit him again, trying to feel the pain of Dean's fists, trying to break the numbness somehow, because he wasn't handling this well, he wasn't helping anything and Dean- his Dean was so angry and what the hell had he done to his son?
"She would have been proud of me." Dean said, and John would have taken it as another accusation if Dean's voice hadn't been shaking, if it didn't sound so much like a plea.
John straightened up slowly, meeting Dean's tearful eyes. He reached a hand out to his son, felt Dean's flinch at the move like a stab to the chest. He tried again but Dean was cornered and John wasn't surprised when his response was a shove to John's chest, running steps leading him away from the dark alley they'd found themselves in.