Worth It Chapter 5/?
Title: Worth It, Chapter 5
Author: deansdirtybb
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: PG-13
Words: 4418
Disclaimer: I’m just borrowing these characters - if only these pretty, pretty boys were actually mine…
Warnings: Wincest, a little boy kissing (should I warn for lack of porns?)
Spoilers: Specifically Season 3, although some themes from Season 4 might slip in.
Summary: The next part of my WIP. We're kind of following season 3, with an AU twist of Sam using his powers before Dean's deal is up to try to save him.
AN #1: Sorry for the longer delays between postings lately. RL has been butting its head into my wincest time. Grrrr
Once again I have abused Show’s words to satisfy my own twisted musings. This time the dialogue comes from 3.06 “Red Sky at Morning” and 3.07 “Fresh Blood”
AN#2: Without the amazing sammichgirl I would never have the courage to post a single story. Luv u, bb! Thank you as always for all your support and help. Bestest beta ever J
If you are kind enough to leave me feedback…I’ll know you’re reading and it might just motivate me to write a bit faster ;)
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4
Worth It, Chapter 5
Dean lay still with controlled breathing feigning sleep. Once the door clicked shut behind Sam he opened his eyes, but waited until hearing the Impala pull away before he moved. He looked in the bag he’d heard Sam shuffle through and found the Colt missing.
“Dammit, Sam.”
* * * * *
“So, I've been waiting since Maple Springs. You got something to tell me?” Dean asked, giving Sam that look that said his patience was already paper thin.
Sam decided to play dumb, he wasn’t sure exactly what Dean had found out, a lot had happened since Maple Springs and he didn’t want to give anything away “It's not your birthday.”
“No.”
“Happy... Purim?” Sam said with a smirk, “Dude, I don't know. I have no idea what you're talking -”
“There's a bullet missing from the Colt. You want to tell me how that happened?” Dean paused and Sam simply gave a small shake of his head, so Dean went on, “I know it wasn't me. So unless you were shooting at some incredibly evil cans...”
“Dean,” Sam said with a note of warning.
“You went after her, didn't you? The Crossroads Demon. After I told you not to.” Dean had completely lost any patience he’d started with and was nearly shouting at his little brother.
“Yeah, well...” Sam was completely unapologetic.
“You could have gotten yourself killed!” Dean was pissed; he couldn’t believe Sam’s recklessness.
“I didn't.” Sam stated plainly.
“And you shot her.” Dean accused.
“She was a smartass.” Sam quipped, hoping a bit of sarcasm might dispel a little of Dean’s ire.
“So, what? Does that mean I'm out of my deal?” Dean was trying to keep his voice even, but Sam noticed the tiny note of hopefulness behind his brother’s façade.
“Don't you think I might have mentioned that little fact, Dean? No. Someone else holds the contract.” Sam hated to crush the little bit of optimism Dean seemed to have, but his brother deserved the truth. And besides, now Sam was working on his own plan to save his brother.
“Who?” Dean demanded.
“She wouldn't say.”
“Well, we should find out who. Of course, our best lead would be the Crossroads Demon. Oh, wait a minute...” Dean was back to being pissed with his irking little brother.
“That's not funny.”
“No, it's not! It was a stupid freaking risk, and you shouldn't have done it.” Dean shook his head, the emotion in his voice as much a result of increasing frustration with himself and his deal as with his headstrong little brother who kept poking at things that might end in Sam’s death.
“I shouldn't have done it? You're my brother, Dean. And no matter what you do, I'm gonna try and save you. And I'm sure as hell not gonna apologize for it, all right?” Sam had begun in anger, but by the time he finished, there were tears in his eyes. How could he possibly ever be sorry for doing anything, everything he could to save Dean? He closed his eyes as his mind wandered to the night before.
Sam had once again waited for Dean to fall asleep, then quietly snuck out of the motel room. This time he walked, afraid the rumble of the Impala’s engine would rouse his ever vigilant brother.
It was only a couple of miles down the road, a large dilapidated old barn that at one point had probably been red. He heard the shouts as he approached the building before he even opened the door. Inside Ruby had a man tied to a chair, his eyes black. Sam saw the devil’s trap painted onto the old boards beneath him.
“Heya, Sam. Ready to start? Or ya gonna go all doe-eyed and wuss out on me again?” She was smirking and Sam once again wished there was any other way to help his brother besides aligning himself with a smart-ass demon.
“I’m ready. What do I do?”
“Well, first we’ve gotta tap into that power old yellow eyes gave you.”
Sam flinched, he’d promised Dean he wouldn’t touch that psychic mess. He knew he’d have to hide things from Dean, but overtly breaking a promise felt so wrong it made his skin go tight.
Ruby interrupted his thoughts, “Sam? If you want to save Dean, this is the way. The only way.”
Sam looked at her. He thought of Dean, he thought of watching his brother die, he thought about how he wouldn’t possibly survive that loss. It made his decision easy. However, broken promise or not, there was one problem with Ruby’s plan, “But, since we killed him, that’s all gone. I haven’t had visions or anything else in months.”
“It’s still there, Sammy-boy. We just have to wake it back up.”
* * * * *
Sam and Dean rode in the Impala in silence. It never sat well with either of them when they failed in a case. Watching that guy drown in his car as they tried in vain to get to him, it seemed to have pushed Sam’s buttons harder than Dean’s this time. Dean couldn’t stand to see Sammy this miserable, especially over something that was just unavoidable. They’d done everything, sometimes there was just no saving someone. Dean shut off the radio and looked at his brother, “Do you wanna say it or should I?”
“What?” Sam asked, a pained expression on his face.
“You can’t save everybody, Sam.”
“Yeah, right, so - so what, you feel better now or what?” Sam’s tone was an attempt at snipe, but his face still wore that same defeated sad expression that told Dean there was no real heat behind the words.
“No, not really,” Dean said with a sigh.
“Me neither,” Sam said, voice so quiet it could barely be heard.
“You gotta understa-“ Dean started.
“It’s just lately, I feel like I can’t save anybody.” Sam looked down at his hands then out the window of the Impala. Watching that guy die had only reminded him that in months he might have to watch his own brother go to hell, because of a deal he’d made for Sam.
He’d been working with Ruby, but he wasn’t sure it was going to be enough. And some of the things she suggested were just…well, there were certain things Sam just couldn’t justify. Because if it worked and he saved Dean he’d have to explain it, and while Sam would do anything to save his brother, he couldn’t stand the thought of doing something that would alter Dean’s opinion of him, that would change the way his older brother looked at him forever.
“So, how do we do that? Wake them up?”
“Practice, Sammy.”
“Stop calling me that. It’s Sam.” Ruby just rolled her eyes. “Practice how?” He asked her.
“You gotta concentrate, Sam. Find that dark place in the back of your mind you know is still there. Even if you won’t acknowledge it.”
Sam just glared at the demon. He wanted to say she didn’t know what she was talking about. That he had chased the dark forces out of his mind. That he would never poke at the things that might turn him into the monster his brother would never touch, would never be able to love.
Instead he told the truth. “I can barely tell it’s still there. Anytime I try to look there it moves, like something that’s always in my peripheral vision.”
“So let it be on the edge…don’t chase it, don’t look directly at it; just wait for it to come out and take the lead.”
And so Sam relaxed…and waited for the darkest part of his mind to lead the rest of him to the way to save his brother.
* * * * *
They’d solved the case, and managed to save Bella, which Sam guessed was probably the right thing to do, and besides, they were up 10 grand now, so not a total loss. Dean was back in Baby’s driver’s seat and was talking about what they’d do with their newfound wealth.
“Seriously, Atlantic City?” Sam asked.
“Hell yeah, play some roulette. Always bet on black,” Dean said, his trademark grin in place. He paused and his expression became more serious. “Hey listen I've been doing some thinking, um, I want you to know I understand why you did it. I understand why you went after the crossroads demon.”
Sam sighed heavily; he wasn’t sure he was ready for another discussion about how he should just sit back and let his brother die.
“And if the situation was reversed I guess I'da done the same thing. I mean I'm not blind, I see what you’re going through with this whole deal, me going away and all that. But you're gonna be ok.”
“Hmph, you think so?” Sam asked, more than a little irritated with Dean’s ongoing attitude in this matter. Going away? Going away?! He wasn’t going away, he was dying. Leaving Sam alone. Forever.
“Yeah, you'll keep hunting, y'know, you live your life. You’re stronger than me, you are-” Dean was interrupted by a grunt from his brother, but he continued his thought anyway “you are... you'll get over it. But I want you to know I'm sorry, sorry for... putting you through all this, I am.”
“You know what Dean, go screw yourself.” Sam had really had enough of this. Dean couldn’t even see what it was that actually had Sam so frustrated. And he really missed what the true underlying problem was.
“What?” Dean’s tone was clipped. He was trying, trying to see Sam’s side and he was even allowing himself to have a girly discussion about his feelings. And here Sam is being pissy, sporting his most irritating bitchface.
“I don't want an apology from you - and by the way, I'm a big boy now, I can take care of myself.”
“Oh, well, excuse me.” Dean was confused by Sam’s sudden outburst.
“So will you please stop worrying about me,” Sam went on, unfazed by Dean’s sarcasm, “I mean that's the whole problem in the first place. I don't want you to worry about me, Dean, I want you to worry about you. I want you to give a crap that you’re dying!” Sam waited, but Dean remained doggedly silent, wearing that damn smirk. “So, what, that's it? Nothing else to say for you?”
Dean looked straight ahead through the windshield of the Impala, “I think maybe I'll play craps.”
Sam just shook his head and turned to look out the window, tears clouding his hazel eyes. Unbelievable. Dean really was going to keep shutting him out on this. His brother was the most exasperating person on the planet. Despite everything they’d been through and the new deeper level of their relationship, Dean was still the same stubborn big brother he’d always been.
The rest of the ride passed slowly in loaded silence. Dean parked the Impala and went to check them in, while Sam went to the trunk to retrieve their bags. Sam followed Dean to the room and waited as he unlocked the door, then shoved past him into the room, dropping the bags on the floor. He saw the two beds and huffed out a harsh breath through his nose. He crouched, opened his bag and pushed through it grabbing out his shower bag and heading for the bathroom. He slammed the door behind him, then leaned on the counter.
His brother was so dense, could he really not see what it was that was actually bothering Sam here? Sam was facing the possibility of losing Dean forever; of having to live out the rest of his life with half his soul torn from him and left to burn and rot in hell. And Dean was asking Sam to just let that happen, he couldn’t. No way he could just sit back on his ass while the center of his world collapsed. The separate beds, the hot and cold between him and Dean in the newest aspect of their relationship, just made everything hurt more. He needed to be as close to Dean for every second that he had while he had him during these last few months. He cursed and slammed his hands on the counter. Sam stripped and got in the shower, ready to wash this vile day off his skin.
Sam came out of the bathroom to find Dean already mostly asleep on one of the beds. He knew he should probably tuck himself into the other bed; that that was most likely what Dean had wanted when he’d gotten a room with separate beds. But as he looked at the cold empty bed, he couldn’t do that. He didn’t want to be that far from his brother right now. He pulled back the covers and slid in behind Dean. Dean snuffled and shifted, “Sammy?” he asked, voice hoarse from sleep but hopeful.
“This ok with you Dean?” Sam asked, needing to be close to Dean, but not wanting to push either.
“’Course it is, baby boy.” Dean said, rolling over to face his brother. “Didn’t think you’d wanna…thought you’d want your space tonight. After, you know, after … what you, how you sounded in the-”
Sam took pity on his brother’s stumbling and cut him off with a kiss. “Don’t need space, need you.” Another kiss. “Jerk.”
Dean grinned against Sam’s lips, “Bitch.”
* * * * *
The next night Dean went to blow off some steam at the local bar, and possibly hustle them a little extra cash. Sam had feigned a headache and stayed behind. Now he stood with Ruby in another abandoned building, doing more “practice.”
Hooking into his latent dark powers had been easier than he’d initially thought. It seemed once he let go of his reservations around it and had good enough motivation he slipped all-too-easily into his abilities.
With Ruby’s help he’d quickly progressed through visions to telekinesis. He was finding that moving things with his thoughts was both easier and more exhausting than he would have believed. He left every session with Ruby depleted, his brain pounding in his skull.
“Very good, Sam,” Ruby said as Sam held out his hand and her knife hovered in front of a captive demon’s face. “But if you don’t pick up the pace a little, by the time you’re able to do what your brother needs he’ll already be a hellhound’s chew-toy.”
“I can’t do that Ruby. Not what you’re asking.” There were lines Sam just could not cross. He wouldn’t become a monster; something Dean would hunt rather than love.
“I’m telling you, we aren’t gonna get past the little tricks and onto the stuff that actually matters without the proper…preparations.”
“No.” Sam said simply, sternly.
“Look, all you need is a little taste. You’ll see what it does, then you decide if it’s what you want, or if you’re going back to hours of fruitless searches through musty old books for an answer that just isn’t there.” She plucked her knife from the air and drew the blade over her forearm and held it toward Sam.
“No, Ruby!” Sam shouted pushing her back, “I am not drinking demon blood!”
Sam had found his line. He turned and walked away from the demon without looking back.
* * * * *
Dean sat at the bar. He should probably be hustling them a little extra money, they really could use the cash. But his head just wasn’t in it tonight. Something was going on with Sam, and he could not piece it together. He was pretty sure there had been nights since the crossroad demon that Sam had snuck out, times he’d not been where he was supposed to be researching or whatever. Dean had no idea what Sam was up to, but Sam seemed different.
“That vampire's still out there, Dean,” Sam had said, cleaning his gun as Dean sharpened his machete.
“First things first,” Dean replied.
“Gordon.”
“About that. When we find him, or if he finds us... I'm just saying he's not leaving us a whole lot of options.” Dean knew they were going to have to kill Gordon. Kill a human, and Sam’s moral compass would likely try to point them in a different direction.
“Yeah, I know. We've got to kill him,” Sam replied, calm and even. Dean just about fell out of his chair. This was not Sammy.
“Really? Just like that? I thought you would have been like,” Dean’s voice went into a whiny tone to mock his little brother: “ ‘No, we can't, he's human, it's wrong.’ ”
“No, I'm done,” Sam had answered. “Gordon's not gonna stop until we're dead... or till he is.”
That was true, that part wasn’t what bothered Dean. It was the matter-of-fact tone his usually emotionally torn little brother had used. Something was changing in Sam, and Dean wasn’t sure what it was, or what it meant.
* * * * *
Sam was sitting in the motel, looking over maps trying to narrow down where the now vampire-Gordon might be. He was atempting to focus on finding Gordon and not think about how Dean had been acting like a freakin’ kamikaze during this hunt. Offering himself as bait to a vampire, running out to draw Gordon and his pal’s gunfire, suddenly it was as if it didn’t matter to Dean if he got the last months of his life or not.
Dean came through the door in a huff, tugging off his jacket and throwing it on a chair. “Man, I must have checked three dozen motels, empty buildings, warehouses,” Dean said.
“Yeah, me too. Big city.”
Dean was bent washing his face in the sink, “It's like a giant haystack, and Gordon's a deadly needle. We're running out of daylight. Won't have the sun slowing him down.”
“Yeah, he'll be unstoppable. Hey, uh, give me your phone,” Sam said already reaching for Dean’s cell.
“What for?” Dean asked, handing it over.
“Well, if Gordon knows our cell numbers he can use the cell signal to track us down,” Sam replied, pulling out the SIM cards from the phones.
“Oh, yeah, thanks.” Dean looked through the faded motel curtains as Sam dropped both phones on the ground and stomped on them, breaking them into pieces. Dean turned from the window and strode toward Sam with that posture that said he’d made a decision.
“Sammy, stay here,” Dean said, pulling the Colt from his bag.
“What? Where you going now?” Sam asked.
Dean checked the Colt over, preparing it, “I'm going after Gordon.”
“What?” Sam asked in disbelief.
“You heard me,” Dean answered.
“Not alone, you're not,” Sam stated.
“Sam, I don't need you to sign me a permission slip, okay? He's after you, not me, and he's turbocharged. I want you to stay out of harm's way. I'll take care of it.” Dean had quickly and easily entered his take-charge and protect Sammy big brother mode, but Sam was in no mood for it.
“You're not going by yourself, you're gonna get killed.”
“Just another day at the office. It's a massively dangerous day at the office…” Dean quipped.
Sam found no humor in Dean’s half-ass attempt at a joke, and saw no merit in Dean going out and risking his life. “So you're the guy with nothing to lose now, huh? Oh wait, let me guess. Because, uh, it's because you're already dead, right?”
“If the shoe fits…”
“You know what, man? I'm sick and tired of your kamikaze trip,” Sam’s voice was becoming more intense, filled with all the frustration and hurt and irritation and love and every other emotion he’d been dragged through the last couple of months since Dean had made that damn deal.
“Whoa, whoa, kamikaze? I'm more like a ninja,” Dean recognized Sam’s tone and responded as he often did by trying to lighten the mood with humor. Sam wasn’t laughing.
“That's not funny.”
“It's a little funny,” Dean tried.
“No, it's not.”
“What do you want me to do, Sam, huh? Sit around all day writing sad poems about how I'm gonna die? You know what? I got one. Let's see, what rhymes with ‘shut up, Sam’?” Dean had made it this far with minimal chick-flick moments, and he was not ready for it now.
“Dude, drop the attitude, Dean. Quit turning everything into a punch line. And you know something else? Stop trying to act like you're not afraid.” Sam’s tone had evened out, but his eyes were still filled with all that emotion.
“I'm not!”
“You're lying. You may as well drop it 'cause I can see right through you.” Sam’s voice softened more and he took a step towards his brother.
“You got no idea what you're talking about,” Dean said, but he couldn’t quite meet Sam’s eyes, so he turned and took a step away.
Sam closed the distance between them. He put his hand under Dean’s chin and lifted until his brother’s emerald gaze met his own. “Yeah, I do. You're scared, Dean. You're scared because your year is running out, and you're still going to Hell, and you're freaked.”
Dean swallowed hard “And how do you know that?” he whispered
Sam’s hands move to cradle Dean’s face, thumb smoothing over the stubbled jaw. “Because I know you.”
Dean pulled away and stepped back, “Really?”
“Yeah, I've been following you around my entire life! I mean, I've been looking up to you since I was four, Dean. Studying you, trying to be just like my big brother. So yeah, I know you. Better than anyone else in the entire world.” Tears were in Sam’s eyes and his voice trembled, “And this is exactly how you act when you're terrified. And, I mean, I can't blame you. It's just...”
“What?”
Sam stepped back up to his brother, “I wish you would drop the show and be my brother again. 'Cause... just 'cause.” The tears were threatening to escape his eyes by the time he finished, and he pulled his lower lip between his teeth.
Dean felt the raw emotion in what Sam was saying, and though he wouldn’t admit it out loud, Sam was right. His little brother knew him better than he knew himself most days.
“All right, we'll hole up,” Dean said quietly, reaching his hand up to cup Sam’s jaw, “Cover our scent so he can't track us, and wait the night out here.” Sam sniffled and nodded. Dean leaned forward and placed a chaste kiss to his brother’s pink lips. Sam captured Dean’s face in his big hands and pulled him back in, deepening the kiss. Sam’s tongue traced the full pout of Dean’s lower lip and then took the offered entrance into his brother’s mouth.
Dean pulled Sam in the few inches that remained between them and wrapped his arms around his brother. His hands slid up Sam’s strong, muscled back and into his hair. Sam moaned when Dean buried his hands there and tugged a little on the shaggy locks. Dean groaned and pushed harder into Sammy’s mouth.
Dean’s phone rang in his pocket and both Winchester’s cursed at the interruption.
“You’ve had that phone two hours, Dean. Who’d you give the number to?”
“Nobody,” Dean answered before picking up the call.
“Dean,” Gordon’s voice came over the line, dragging the brothers from their moment back into the hunt.
* * * * *
Dean had completely freaked out when he and Sam got separated in that warehouse. Knowing vamped-out Gordon was on a mission to kill his brother, and that Dean was suddenly completely unable to protect Sammy…it had been too much. But then, watching Sam sever Gordon’s head with razor wire…Dean had a rare moment of seeing Sam as the full-grown man he now was and not the little boy whose care Dean had been charged with.
Now, as he bent under the hood of the Impala, he wanted to give Sam a moment of the big brother he said he’s been missing.
“Figure out what's making that rattle?” Sam asked.
“Not yet,” Dean answered, “Give me a box wrench, would you?”
Sam stood pulled the wrench from the tool box and handed it to his brother, “Yeah. There you go.”
“Thanks,” Dean said, then paused looking at his little brother, “Sam.”
“Wrong one?”
“No, come here for a second.”
Sam stood and walked over to his brother, looking into the engine, “Yeah?”
“This rattle could be a couple of things,” Dean said, motioning toward the engine, “I'm thinking it's an out-of-tune carb.”
Sam wrinkled his brow in confusion, “Okay.”
“All right, see this thing?” Dean went on, “It's a valve cover. Inside are all the parts that are on the head. Hand me that socket wrench.” Sam handed over the tool. “All right, you with me so far?” Dean asked.
“Yeah, uh, valve cover covers the heads.”
“Very good,” Dean praised, “This is your intake manifold, and on top of it?”
Sam smiled, distant memories floating in his mind providing the answer to Dean’s question along with a pleasant nostalgia, “It's, uh, a carburetor.”
“Carburetor... very good.”
“What's with the auto shop?” Sam asked, wondering where Dean was headed with all this. Dean held out the socket wrench towards his little brother. “You don't mean you want...” Sam asked disbelievingly.
“Yeah, I do. You fix it.” Dean stated.
“Dean, you barely let me drive this thing,” protested Sam.
“Well, it's time,” Dean had looked down, but he tipped his head back up to meet Sam’s gaze as he said, “You should know how to fix it. You're gonna need to know these things for the future.” He handed Sam the socket wrench and a weighted sigh escaped his brother’s mouth. “And besides, that's my job, right? Show my little brother the ropes?”
Tears prickled Sam’s eyes again as it became clear what Dean was doing. Sam had asked for Dean to drop his act and just be the big brother again, and Dean was giving Sammy exactly what he wanted. As Dean always had done, for Sam’s entire life. Sam nodded, took the wrench and leaned under the hood. He began unscrewing the bolts and Dean sat down on the cooler watching.
“Put your shoulder into it,” Dean said, taking a sip of beer.Sam chuckled and smiled fondly, though the tears were still there.
Chapter 6
Master Post