Title: The Way Things Were 4/?
Rating: R
Pairing: Dean/Sam
Disclaimer: I don't own them and I'm not making any money off this. Don't sue.
Summary: The war is over, and the Demons have won. Sammy's in hiding, and Dean's determined to find him, and bring him back where he belongs. On their side.
Thanks to
unrequited666 and
kuhekabir for their services as betas, and listening to me whine and whinge and moan.
Previously, on
The Way Things Were...
February, 2011
Michael Tynne was worried. Not about himself; he already knew his place in this new world. Asher turned fifteen today, which meant his Placement was tomorrow. He hoped that Asher's quick brain would get him placed among the Clerical staff, where Michael could keep an eye on him, but with the younger boy's looks and personality, he doubted it. He'd seen the requests to buy Asher from the Toushin, the lord Michael and Asher both belonged to, after he'd been Placed.
Placement was simple. The day after a slave's fifteen birthday, they were taken before their lord. The lord would look at them, test their strength and intelligence. If they were nice (not many were) they'd ask the slave where they wanted to go. And then the lord made a decision and Placed them.
There were only a few places a male slave could be Placed. Labour, or outside work: physical, strenuous stuff only the strong boys were given. Indoor, or household work: cleaning work, mainly - few boys went to this area, as girls were generally seen as more careful, especially with the many valuable trinkets the various lords owned. Kitchen: cooks, waiters and dishwashers. Clerical: those who had good writing and reading skills, and neat handwriting. And Pleasure: those who's only job was to keep their lord, and their lord's guests, happy.
***
The only one allowed with the Toushin when he was deciding a slave's Placement was the slave himself. Michael sat at his desk not able to concentrate on his work, waiting for Asher to come back, waiting to find out whether their lives would be separated now.
A gong sounded the midday meal, and Michael frowned as he packed up his desk, making his way to what passed as a kitchen for the slaves. Asher had been called just after the breakfast meal and he wasn't back yet. What was taking them so long?
"Michael!" Michael turned when he heard Asher's voice, his heart dropping when he saw his brother running towards him. Asher was wearing flimsy blue pants that looked like something Aladdin wore in the Disney movie he and Asher had watched years ago. It told all looking that he was a Pleasure slave. Asher's eyes were full of tears and they started to fall as he grabbed Michael around the waist, not letting him go.
Michael held him tight, letting Asher sob into his arms, while he tried to control his own emotions. In all of his worst-case scenarios, he hadn't even considered this.
"He... he said he had too many slaves. And that flu that went through killed too many of the workers," Asher sobbed.
"Shush," Michael whispered. "When... when do you leave?"
"Tomorrow morning."
"Don't worry. I'll fix it. I promise," Michael knew it was risky making a promise like that - the Toushin might refuse to see him after all - but he couldn't let Asher go there if he could help it.
The pants told everyone he was a Pleasure slave. The colour told them he worked in a public whorehouse.
***
August, 2012
Convincing Sam that Zack didn't need to come with them wasn't as hard as Dean had thought it would be. When Sam asked his friend if he wanted to come along, Zack had politely declined, trying not to look at Dean, who was standing behind Sam, shaking his head minutely and glaring. Zack had explained that he needed to be there in case Rebecca came back. He'd promised he'd wait for her and he wasn't going to break that promise. Sam had nodded in understanding and wished him luck. Dean had promised to send someone to keep an eye on him, make sure he stayed safe. Zack had shivered, understanding the underlying threat in Dean's words.
Sam was completely stunned when he saw the Impala. One of the first things the demons had done when they'd taken over was hike up the prices of petrol, to promote less travel, and by association, less rebellion, between towns. Petrol now cost in the vicinity of $100 per litre. It had made it so only the very rich could afford travel nowadays, and ninety percent of them were already possessed.
"Dean, how-" Sam began, gesturing at the car. Dean shrugged.
"Siphoned it from other cars, mainly," Dean explained carelessly. Sam nodded. It wasn't new. When they'd been travelling and Dean hadn't been able to win them enough money or their credit cards had been low, they'd frequently taken to siphoning petrol from other cars or even petrol stations when they could.
Sam let himself into the passenger seat, relaxing into the familiar leather seats with a contented sigh. He smiled as Michael, Asher and Rosie got in the back seat. Dean started the car, and they drove.
***
"Well well well... what do we have here?"
"A bunch of humans in a car. That's what it looks like to me."
The demons who surrounded the Impala didn't look like what you'd expect blood-thirsty monsters to look like. There were about nine of them in total; famous football players, athletes, at least one cop.
"You know what that means." There was a definite leer in the voice of the one who spoke.
Before Sam had time to think of a reply, Rosie leaned over the divide. "We're all under the protection of the Toushin. Leave!" She sounded a lot more advanced for her age than a girl of six.
The demons conversed between themselves silently before one, the cop, stood forward. "That may be true, ma'am," he told Rosie politely, "but we still need to check for the marks. There have been a lot of slaves trying to claim a connection with the Lord Toushin."
"We understand," Rosie said, and Sam had no clue exactly how she'd been named their spokesperson, but when he'd tried to speak, Dean had held a finger up, shaking his head in a silent gesture to be quiet. Sam frowned but complied - after all, it was Dean, and Dean wouldn't do anything to hurt him. He trusted Dean. He pushed the thought to the back of his mind, concentrating on the demons, and Rosie, who was speaking again. "I ask that the oldest of our group be a Witness however. One of our group was marked unconscious, and has never been examined before. I ask for his benefit."
Sam was still frowning. Why was it all so formal? And why were the demons being so polite to them? They were demons! They weren't supposed to do polite! To anyone!
"We acknowledge and accept your request. Chose between yourselves the first to be checked, and send them and the Witness only out here," the cop said.
Rosie nodded.
***
Dean took Rosie with him first, to be ‘checked'. He snorted. Yeah, like that was going to happen. As soon as they'd gotten far enough away from the car - he'd wanted to make sure Sam couldn't see what was happening, what the ‘checking' really involved - the demons had started bowing and scraping, recognising him for who he was. They'd realised Rosie was one of the Chosen Children while they were still in the car.
He told the demons what he wanted to happen, and exactly how, and then took Rosie back, taking Asher with him this time. He let the demons check the tattoo on Asher's right shoulder, as a matter of procedure. It was his symbol: an eagle, and a rifle, both on top of an outline of a car. They represented the impala, the Winchester Rifle (and his family), and the wide-open spaces. All the things he valued.
He took Asher back, and collected Sam this time. He could feel Sam's nerves; they both knew Sam didn't have a tattoo, at all.
"Don't hesitate in doing what they tell you to. The Toushin's servants are known for their obedience. Relax, Sammy," he added softly when a frightened look began to overtake Sam's calm features. "It'll be fine. I'll be there. We'll let them check you, then when they're busy doing that, I'll kill them and we'll get out of here. Don't worry."
Sam nodded, not looking at all reassured.
They reached the clearing, where the cop demon was waiting. There was only one other demon with him, one of the athletes, Sam guessed. He was tall and muscly, his shape similar to Sam's own.
"Everything seems to be fine," the cop explained, "the others weren't needed anymore."
Sam looked at Dean apprehensively; it wasn't that good an excuse. Dean just smiled, conveying with his eyes that having fewer demons around was definitely better for them.
"Let's get this over with," Sam muttered.
"Take off your pants, and turn around."
Sam's head shot up at the demon's words, but he remembered Dean's advice, gulped, and did as he was told, turning around and pulling his jeans down.
"Underwear too, please."
Numbly, Sam did as he was told. He felt cold, calloused fingers caressing his bottom, running between his cheeks, trailing down to settle on the curve where thigh met bottom. The hand caressed him, almost a lover's touch and Sam squirmed. The touch was so intimate, so tender, not what he'd expect from demons.
"He has no tattoo," the demon growled, sounding distant. Sam wasn't sure if he was just blocking it out, pretending it wasn't happening. Suddenly, there were two gunshot sounds, and someone was pulling his pants up. Sam was still frozen.
"Come on, lets go," Dean said, turning Sam around and fastening his belt again. Sam looked at the two demons, laying dead on the ground a few metres away, and then Dean was pulling him back to the car, bundling him in, and driving off.
Sam was silent though, thoughts running through his mind. Confusing thoughts. The demons weren't anywhere near him, where they'd been lying, dead. So, either the gun had moved them six metres away.
Or it wasn't them who'd been touching him.
TBC