Fix You (Chapter 3)
Title: Fix You (Chapter 3)
Author: beatlemaniac9
Rating: NC-17
Pairing(s): Sam/Dean
Warnings: Wincest, Drug Abuse, dark!Fic
Summary: Based on the song "Fix You" by Coldplay. At sixteen years old, Sam Winchester is turning to heroin to cope with his unrequitted love for his brother. Can Dean stop him before it's too late?
Previous Parts: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2
Dean woke stiff- Sam’s head was resting on his ribcage, he was bent funny, and his wrists were pushed back, due to the awkward position of Sam’s hands. And since when had they started holding hands in their sleep? Dean was at a loss when it came to his memory of it, so they must have been asleep. A quick glance to the other bed told him that their father had returned, and he looked to be out cold. Thus, he untangled himself from Sam and slipped into some clean clothes from his duffel.
The notepad Dad always left on the table for writing quick notes was splayed open before him. He was going to get some food for the three of them, and he needed to let them know, but he didn’t want either of them to think that something was wrong. It had been the first time he had slept with Sam so close since they finally spoke about their feelings, and he was the one to tell his father about the drugs. Either way, him leaving wasn’t the brightest idea. But, he really wanted Dunkin Donuts, and there was one down the street. Maybe, he could get Sam one of those coffee coolatas he liked so much as a way to make up for leaving. Dad was easier. He’d just need to be sure to get a jelly donut.
Thus he put the pen to the paper, and rather than just saying he was going for breakfast, he specified Dunkin Donuts. That would keep them placated. Dean slipped the keys to his baby into his jacket pocket, right before putting the note on his pillow. Sam should see it before he panics. He eased the door open, cursing at its squeaky hinges, and made his way to his car.
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Sam woke up slowly, allowing his eyes to remain shut while he did a sort of self inventory. His right leg was asleep to the knee, damnit, he thought, as was his right arm. He was definitely on his right side. He stretched out, starting with his legs, trying to ignore the pinprick sensations that shot through his limbs. He reached his arms outward, half expecting to hit into Dean. However, he only hit empty air, followed by cool mattress, where his brother should have been. Eyes shot open at the realization that he was alone in bed. Dad was on the other bed, snoring away, and there was a note on Dean’s pillow.
Sam’s relief was near tangible as he eased through the note, glad that Dean didn’t sound freaked. That would have sucked, too. If Dean couldn’t handle cuddling up for the night, it would put a serious kink in their relationship plans. Oh god Dad…there was little chance that he didn’t see the way Sam and Dean had slept. The panic returned, but not because of Dean. It was surprising that their dad hadn’t already beaten the shit out of the two of them, but there’s no way to know if it’ll stay that way. Thankfully, the sound of a key in their door lock kept him from thinking on it for too long. Dean came back in, bag held with his teeth, and drink caddy in hands.
“I saw the note.” Sam knew that Dean had probably left it there on purpose.
“Good. Now come get your breakfast before your coffee shit is all melted.” Sam lit up, noticing the icy, whipped cream covered beverage in the caddy. He rolled out of bed, falling on the floor, and rushed over to get his breakfast. After all, any time they got Dunkin Donuts (since most of the time they were in little backwater towns that never had them) was better than Christmas morning.
John heard the thud on the floor, and woke immediately.
“What’s going on, boys?”
“Dean brought back Dunkin Donuts.” Sam supplied before Dean could even open his mouth. It was times like these that he marveled in his brother’s childlike tendencies. Even at sixteen, with all he has seen and done, Sam could still (on occasion) be as chipper as he was in kindergarten.
“Get any jelly donuts?” Their father asked. Dean pulled two out of the bag, and set them on a napkin on the table.
“Of course I did, dad. I also got you some coffee.” Sam yanked the bag out of his hands to grab at his two donuts, one glazed, and one toasted coconut. “And slow down, Sasquatch. You’re gonna make yourself sick. That, or give yourself a brainfreeze.” He noticed that Sam hadn’t stopped sucking down his coolada since he picked it up.
John laughed at his son’s behavior, and felt the smile ramain, as a testemant to their few true family moments. This happened to be one of them. For a moment, they could all forget about everything wrong in the world. They could just…be. Dean took his breakfast back to his and Sam’s bed, which earned him a pout from his younger brother, who followed almost immediately. John followed their lead, taking his own breakfast back to bed with him. Even in the silence that accompanied their meal, they were together, and that was all that mattered. John then remembered what he had to tell them.
He waited until the boys were finished eating, watching as Dean took all of the trash to the small trashcan in the bathroom. Sam simply smirked, seeming pleased with the small favor. They usually didn’t act this pleasant to one another. He filed the interaction in his brain for later, and waited until Dean sat back down to speak.
“Sam, Dean. I have something I need to tell you.” Both boys got to the edge of the bed, facing their father, looking rather intent- almost worried.
“I talked to Bobby last night, and he’s agreed to let the two of you stay with him until Sam’s better.”
“What???” They said in unison, which was rare, and rather shocking to hear. They looked at each other momentarially, before Sam spoke.
“We have it all under control, so why can’t we stay here?” with you, the unspoken words hanging in the air. Sure, Sam didn’t always agree with his father, but this felt an awful lot like being sent away. Like a punishment, almost.
“Listen. I know that Dean’s doing a good job of making sure that you’re taken care of. But right now, I don’t know how to treat this situation. Bobby’s a hell of a lot better with this sort of thing, and he can be around a lot more to keep an eye on the two of you. Like it or not, this is something I just can’t help you with. I need for you to get better.” The truth of his words stung at Dean, who watched as his brother’s shoulders fell in resignation. Truthfully, they both knew that drugs and hunting were a bad mix, and Dean couldn’t be distracted on a hunt because of Sam. They were going to have to sit a few out. Besides, if (heaven forbid) something were to happen to Sam, something related to the drugs, Bobby would know what to do a lot better than Dean would.
“So, when do we leave?” Sam spoke quietly, looking down to his hands.
“You and Dean are gonna take the impala, so you guys can head out whenever you’re ready.” He had the deecency to look sorrowful, despite the fact that he was glad to have them driving into better hands. He knew that neither of them wanted to go, but it had to be done.
“I guess,” Dean spoke to Sam, placing a hand on one of his still too narrow legs, “You should get dressed. I wanna get there before dinner.” He half smiled, reassuring his brother. Sam slipped off the bed and into the bathroom with his duffel. Both men watched as the door closed, and then turned back to one another.
“Next time you have something to say like that, can you give me the heads up? I can’t help if you don’t.” Dean allowed the annoyance to plague his voice. John said nothing, prompting Dean to gather his stuff to put into the car. Obviously, his father had no more to say to him.
Chapter 4 --->