Practical Magic [Chapter Two - Part One]
Title: Practical Magic
Author: Demira_Watson
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Adam/Michael, Sam/Gabriel, Dean/Castiel, Ellen/Bobby, Jo/OFC, Past Sam/Jessica, Dean/Lisa and a side order of Adam/Gordon
Chapter Rating: R
Warnings: Swearing, Character Death, brief mention of Sex
Word Count: 12013
Disclaimer: The characters in this fanfiction belong to Eric Kripke and the Supernatural team. Unrecognizable characters belong to me and can not be used without permission.
Summary: When Dean bashes Gordon’s head in with the nearest kitchen utensil (a frying pan of all things) he’s not nearly prepared for the consequences he unleashes on his family and now he has to contend with three (smoking hot) FBI agents and a family curse intent on ripping his and his brother’s hearts out.
A/N: SOOORRRRYYY! Completely forgot to post on Monday...Here it is better late then never!
Practical Magic | Chapter Two - Part One |
[Chapter One - Part Two]
The light filtered through the thin curtains and woke Sam from his deep sleep. He’d hidden himself beneath the thick duvet and several pillows as he curled in on himself but still the sun continued to wake him everyday. The grief that plagued him felt like a second skin clinging to his bones. He felt heavy under the weight of it and tired. So very tired.
Sam knew that if it wasn’t for the constant thrum of worry and love echoing through the bond he shared with his siblings every minute of every day that he would succumb to his grief and never wake up again. Just like their father had.
The door creaked on its hinges and Sam smiled as he sensed his eldest son tip-toe into the room. Jensen’s book bag jostled with every step and his jacket rustled as he settled on his father’s bed.
“Dad. It’s time for school.” Jensen shook the lump hidden under layers of blankets and a heavy duvet.
“Have a good day Jen.” Sam mumbled underneath his mountain. Jensen sighed as he jumped off the bed and headed for the door.
The eldest of Sam’s sons let out a mild squeak as Sam launched himself out of his haven like a hunter and grabbed the dusty blonde haired boy around the middle before dragging him backwards under the duvet. Sam snuggled into Jensen’s back with a happy smile on his face as he listened to his son giggle quietly.
“’m sorry Jen. I’m just so tired…” Sam apologised.
“I know Daddy. It’s ok. When you’re better you’ll play with me and Jared for a while to make up for it.” Jensen muttered with determination. Sam chocked back tears as he listened to the sadness coating his son’s voice. He felt like a failure as he breathed in the little boys scent.
“I promise I will.” Sam offered as he tried to pretend that tomorrow he’d get up and be the father his boys deserved.
Dear Adam,
It’s been a year and Sam still hasn’t left his bedroom. I’m worried that we’re losing him. I need you to come home and help me remind Sam why life is worth living again.
Dean
Adam followed the scar along his left palm feeling the soft pain of Sam underneath the small pink line. Over the last year Sam’s pain had dulled slightly but depression and an overwhelming sense of grief had taken the place of severe heartbreak. His brother wasn’t improving in the slightest and Dean’s short and simple letter told the youngest Winchester everything he needed to know about the situation. Mostly the fact that Dean was collapsing under the strain of Sam’s continued seclusion.
Dean’s phone-calls had been almost every night for the first two months and now he barely had time to contact Adam more the twice a month, relying purely on their permanent link to inform him of Adam’s mood and wellbeing.
Adam knew his oldest brother well enough to know if Dean was asking for his help, things were at breaking point. Because Dean Winchester never asked for help unless the shit was about to go nuclear.
Adam sighed as he realised he was going back to the Island.
“What is it babe?” Gordon’s sultrily tone whispered into Adam’s ear.
“Nothing important.” Adam lied as he escaped the dark skinned man’s grasp taking Gordon’s bottle of Jack Daniel’s with him. Adam smirked as Gordon stared intently at the twenty-six year olds naked body. “I’m just going to the bathroom.”
“Hurry back.” Gordon flopped onto his back giving Adam a clear view of what would be happening when he returned from the bathroom. Adam smirked to himself as he left the bedroom thinking, not this time Gordon.
The tiled room was freezing compared to the rest of Gordon’s flat. Adam had been wrapped up in the intense man’s life since they’d met a year ago two weeks after Jessica’s funeral. Adam settled himself on top of the cold toilet as he dug around his bag of tricks for the Belladonna. Finding the small glass bottle he emptied some flakes into his hand and shook them into Gordon’s drink.
The blonde haired man lit a cigarette as he relaxed against the cistern waiting for the drug to mix with the alcohol. Sure drugging his boyfriend was little extreme but Gordon was an powerful and goal orientated man and Adam did occasional need to sleep.
So Adam had yet to tell Gordon of his family or the terrible curse that would eventually try and kill him…Gordon didn’t need to know everything about Adam’s life. Heck he doubted the older man even knew Adam’s birthday but that was ok. Adam was trying to keep his distance right now. He was rather found of Gordon and he needed to know if Gordon was strong enough to survive Cain’s curse before he let himself be completely consumed by the man.
Adam wondered briefly as he shook the bottle one last time if he was already consumed by Gordon and just in denial about the fact.
A few days later Adam pulled up along the gravel drive way he hadn’t seen since he was eighteen and watching it fade into the distance in the rear-view mirror of Dean’s beloved Impala. The sun had long since set and only a few lights shone in some of the windows of the Singer family home. Adam tugged at the light green coat he’d wrapped around his torso.
Jared and Jensen would be in bed by now. The five year olds had a curfew on school nights. Sam apparently hadn’t left his bed in the past year except to take a leek when he needed too.
Adam knew that his honorary sister had moved in with her high-school sweetheart Demi earlier that year so that left only Dean, Uncle Bobby and Aunt Ellen wandering the dark hallways in the middle of the night. The youngest Winchester was putting his money on Dean given the restless feeling underneath his skin. He hadn’t seen his oldest brother in a year and wondered what he would find different. Would his brother look older? Would he appear broken? Or would he just look pissed off at having found Adam loitering in his boyfriend’s car that he ‘borrowed’ just outside the Singer family home?
Pissed, defiantly pissed.
“You gonna sit there all night?” Dean asked after Adam had opened the car door wincing as the metal made a god-awful squeak that echoed through the quiet night. Dean wore a loose grey t-shirt and dark jeans with his brown work boots as he tapped his foot and crossed his arms over his chest. For a thirty seven year old Dean wore his age well. His hair was still cropped but maintained its light brown colour all over and only a few stubborn wrinkles lined his boyish face. Adam preyed he looked half as good once he crawled over the dreaded thirty year mark.
“Just taking in the sights.” Adam smirked as Dean huffed. Dean’s boots crunched on the gravel as he moved forward to drag his shorter brother into a tight hug.
“How you been kid?” Dean asked roughly as he held his youngest sibling close.
“Good. How have you been?” Adam replied nuzzling into Dean’s shoulder like he used to when he was a kid. Adam knew he was here to help Dean, to provide support for his older brother but he couldn’t help the moment of weakness and just enjoyed being wrapped up in his big brother’s arms where everything would be ok, if only for a moment.
“Not so great kid. I…I have no idea how to help Sammy.” Dean’s broken voice dragged Adam away from his safe haven in the eldest Winchester’s arms and younger man nodded as he patted Dean on the arm.
“We’ll fix him together. Don’t worry.” Dean smiled at Adam’s reassuring grin and allowed himself the hope that they would get through this together. Dean tugged at the front of Adam’s green jacket before they walked inside.
“Wakey, wakey Sammy…” Sam twitched as the light touch continued to tickle his nose. The soft masculine voice continued to taunt him from the waking world and Sam wondered vaguely if he could smash it.
“Sammy! Come on! Don’t you want to say ‘hello’ to the brother who drove for two days just to fix your sorry ass!” Sam jolted upright, his eyes blinking rapidly in order to clear them. He turned to the shouter that had invaded his room and was pleasantly surprised. Adam’s smiling face greeted him once his vision was clear. His brother’s bright blue eyes gleamed in the dark and his blonde hair was a couple of inches longer then Sam remembered and spiking in several different directions. His younger brother was leaning on his elbow laid out on his side and just watching Sam as the tallest Winchester let the sight sink in. “Miss me?”
“Adam?” Sam’s voice sounded rough with misuse.
“The one and only.” Adam smirked as his brother frowned still trying to wrap his sleep fogged mind around what was happening.
“What are you doing here? I thought you were in New York.” Sam decided to be direct and just ask seen as his brain wasn’t functioning.
“I sent him a letter asking him to spare a few days.” Dean shoved a cup of hot coffee into Sam’s hands and the tall sleep muddled man took a moment to breath in the aromatic mixture.
“In other words I am here to help Dean-o fix you.” Adam bounced up from his relaxed position until he was sitting in front of his brother with such an earnest smile that Sam was tempted to give Adam what he wanted. But Adam didn’t know how tired Sam was and Sam defiantly didn’t have the strength to continue the conversation.
“Oh no you don’t Sammy!” Dean shot forward and yanked the taller man upwards again just as Sam started to sink back into the mattress, hot coffee burned through Sam’s thin grey t-shirt as he jostled upright.
“No more sleeping Sammy. It’s time to face the music.” Adam said as he stared at his brother sadly. This wasn’t going to be an easy night.
“If you two tell anyone I’m eating Ben and Jerry’s ice-cream I will end you!” Dean muttered darkly as he scooped up another spoonful of the chocolaty goodness they’d stolen from the freezer. Sam chuckled lightly at his brother’s empty threat.
“Yeah, yeah! Anyway come on Sam. You can’t hide in that spoonful forever. You need to talk no matter how many times Dean says this is a ‘chick flick’ moment. So…Tell us about Jess. The side of her we didn’t see…” Adam watched as his brother went through a multitude of emotions in the span of a few minutes.
Adam knew it wouldn’t be easy for his brother but forcing him to face his grief would hopefully start the healing process. Besides his brother’s beard was developing a mind of its own and for the safety of humanity Adam would force Sam to shave.
Sam stuttered to a halt. Jessica’s smiling face echoed through his mind followed by a sharp pang of pain and misery that had Sam wanting to curl back under the covers and ignore the world. But his two siblings currently munching away on melting ice-cream as they rested against the wooden end of Sam’s double bed forced him to remain upright and awake. He took a deep breath as the melted chocolate ice-cream dripped onto his t-shirt joining the cooling coffee stains from earlier.
“She was…amazing.” Sam mumbled roughly feeling the lump in his throat tug at his words. Adam perked up as he watched his brother begin to heal as he talked about his beloved wife. “She wanted us to start our own law firm right here on the Island. She knew how much this place meant to me, how much you two meant to me and she was happy and willing to give up her life in California to move to this tiny island.”
“Good woman.” Dean muttered as it became clear Sam wasn’t going to continue. Adam nodded as he shovelled another spoonful of ice-cream onto his spoon.
“Did Jess give up when times got hard?” Adam asked as he chomped on the small fudge pieces hidden in the chocolaty goo.
“No, never!” Sam shouted angrily. Adam just nodded thoughtfully.
“So Jess would have never condoned hiding in your bed whilst the world kept turning outside?” Adam asked bluntly and Dean caught on to his line of thinking just as Sam flinched like he’d been struck.
“…No…She wouldn’t have…” Sam whispered brokenly. Adam felt for his brother but Sam needed to see the truth of his actions or else he’d never get out of his bed. Dean didn’t call him here so they could pat Sam’s head and hold his hand. He needed the cold hard and unforgiving truth in order to heal.
“So why are you hiding?” Adam questioned.
“I…I’m just so tired…It’s hard to even think about getting up…” Sam muttered as he shoved another spoonful into his mouth holding back the bitter tears.
“You know what’s hard Sammy? Watching your brother fade away slowly. Watching as your nephews accidentally call you Dad one day because their real father is too busy feeling sorry for himself to get up and know them. That’s hard.” Dean stabbed his spoon into the tub letting go of his frustration and anger. Tears began to leek out of the corner of Sam’s eyes unchecked as the reality of the situation knocked through his walls.
“Do you forgive Dad?” Adam posed as his final question.
“…Sometimes.” Sam hiccupped.
“Well you damn well won’t forgive yourself if you don’t get out of this bed, take a bloody shower and shave that god awful beard before it plans world domination and take care of your boys!” Sam chuckled quietly as he scratched his growing facial hair. He smiled lightly as Adam patted him on the arm.
“I will.” Sam promised.
Adam watched as his older brothers slept. Dawn was breaking and the first light of the new day was beginning to filter through the flower print curtains and across the bed. Sam’s gigantic frame was snuggled into Dean’s side and his bearded sibling was drooling happily on Dean’s shoulder.
“Love you guys.” Adam whispered faintly from his place at the edge of the bed.
“Love you too Addy.” His brother’s mumbled back in the midst of the deep sleep. Adam smiled as he left the room and exited his childhood home once again. He manoeuvred himself behind the wheel of Gordon’s car and sighed happily knowing that when Sam woke today, he was getting up and out of that bed.
Jensen and Jared were happily munching on their morning pancakes when their father entered the kitchen. The twin’s jaws dropped open revealing their half chewed breakfast.
“Close your mouths when you’re eating boys.” Sam smiled as he sat down at the mahogany table. He felt fresh and alive for the first time since Jessica’s death. Dean and Sam had woken early in the morning to find Adam gone. They weren’t surprised. Adam had no love for the island anymore and had done what he’d come to do so there was no reason for him to remain on the traditional island that had raised him.
Sam wouldn’t have minded if Adam had stayed even if it was just to say goodbye in the morning. Instead he got thrown out of bed by a grumpy Dean who was not impressed with his soaking shoulder and had thrown a towel at Sam’s head in a clear order to get started on living again.
So Sam had spent an hour under the harsh spray of the shower head and then twenty minutes ridding his face of the scratchy brown beard he’d built up over the past twelve months. He’d dressed in a fresh pair of cotton grey joggers and a white t-shirt to face the morning.
Dean smirked as he flipped another pancake on the stove as he listened to his nephews stutter in shock.
“Are you ok Dad?” Jared finally asked after swallowing the lump of cooked batter.
“Yeah I’m really fine. Now eat up the school bus will be here soon. After you boys come home I’d thought we’d do something together, just the three of us. What do you think?” Sam smiled nervously knowing that after the last year of barely any contact with the boys they were well within their rights to tell him to ‘shove it’. He was pleasantly surprised when they didn’t and instead began thinking up games to play once they returned from school.
Sam took the time whilst they were debating to take in the changes in his boys. Jensen’s hair was short and spiky and only just losing the blonde dusty appearance he’d had since birth to a chestnut brown. His eldest son had bright forest green eyes and Sam was vividly reminded of a young Dean. He even had similar mannerisms as he playfully shoved and teased his little brother. Sam could easily see Dean’s influence.
Jared had softer features and long dark brown hair with bright hazel eyes and Sam could see his younger self reflected in his son’s movements. Jessica would be proud of how well the boys were doing. All smiles and easy laughter despite how much shit had happened to them.
Sam was proud and promised internally that he would do everything possible to re-earn their love and devotion.
“Hey Adam. How are you?”
“I’m good Sam. Just finished a shift at the bar. How are you?”
“I’m good…Really good…Thank you for coming to help me.”
“It’s no problem brother, that’s what we’re here for. To kick your ass into gear when you go emo-bitch on us.”
“(Laugh) Yes well I’m glad I’ve got you and Dean. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome…So to avoid tears here, how’s life outside the bedroom?”
“Good. I took the boys to the beach. They really enjoyed that and they made an awesome sandcastle. I’m thinking of opening my own law firm here on the Island. It’s a big enough rock and there are plenty of clients. Most people have to leave the Island in order to find a lawyer so…who knows. It might work out.”
“That sounds great bro. I’m happy for you.”
“What about you? Sick of the big wide world yet?”
“Other then working I haven’t really left Gordon’s flat. He’s intense and well without giving you the gory details we don’t really sleep.”
“Dude I just got out of the bedroom, I do not need to be emotional scarred back into it thank you.”
“(Laugh) Yeah well…Gordon’s great…We’re great. I think he could survive the curse. He’s so much stronger then me…I really think this is it for me.”
“I hope it works out for Adam. I really do.”
“Me too.”
It took three months and constant encouragement from Dean but Sam had finally done it. The small shop space he’d bought was turned into a modern solicitor’s office with ivory white walls and clear desks for his employees.
Becky was his eccentric receptionist. She was always dressed smartly her dark blonde hair tied back and her tiny thin frame filled to the brim with enthusiasm with an added unhealthy obsession with Sam on top…but he tried not to encourage it. Dean still laughed at him. Chuck was a nervous ex-alcoholic with dark curly hair, a scratchy beard and a generally scruffy appearance. He was slightly inappropriate but he was the best accountant on the island…and the best erotic novelist too but again Sam ignored the eccentricities of his work colleagues. He was living the dream Jessica wanted for him and that was all he needed.
He shuffled some files together and laid them neatly next to his computer as he listened to Becky hum a quiet tune at the front of the office. The sun was shining through the old large windows and the whole office felt bright and airy. Business was surprisingly well. Sam worried at the beginning if anybody would accept one of the Winchester warlocks discussing land perimeters with them but he was wrong. Sure they were a little skittish around him but everybody soon warmed to him and Sam became everybody’s lawyer over night.
Becky chuckled from her glass desk in front of Sam and he looked away from his report neatly typed on his screen to see what had humoured her. His twin sons were doing a funny little jig in front of the office window for her amusement. Sam laughed openly as they stuck out their tongues and made playful faces at him. He turned back to his work with a smile on his face and began work on the finishing touches.
“Witch! Witch! You’re a Witch!” The chant started outside and Sam looked up to find his son’s plastered against the window as some other children shouted at them.
“Fuck!” Sam muttered as he dodged around his desk and headed for the door. Jensen had shot forward to push at the child leading the teasing and Sam jogged out of his office to pull his eldest away from the bully just as the child’s mother pulled her son away from them.
“You’re troublemaker started this!” The woman yelled but Sam was too busy trying to stop a tearful Jensen from scuttling around him to continue his fight.
“Jensen stop it! Now!” Sam shouted at his son. Jensen didn’t listen and pointed at the boy.
“I hope you get chicken pox!” The oldest twin cast. Sam tried to pacify the mother who was now muttering obscenities towards him as she clutched her child closely. Sam gave up trying to apologise after she turned and stormed off. Sam sighed as he knelt in front of his crying sons.
“Jensen we don’t cast no matter how upset we get.” Sam brushed the young boy’s hair away from his forehead.
“They deserved it!” Jensen shouted angrily at his father.
“No they didn’t-.” Sam started but Jensen interrupted.
“No! They did! You haven’t been here; you don’t know how many times they’ve teased us! You don’t know anything!” Jensen grabbed Jared’s free hand and tugged his younger brother down the street and way from Sam.
Sam felt a sharp pain in his heart at the truth. He hadn’t been there for his boys in a very long time. He was only just learning about the extent they suffered whilst he hid under a duvet. Sam made another mental note to make it up to his young children as he entered his office. He gave Becky’s worried look a tiny smile as he resumed his place behind his desk.
Dear Adam,
Jared and Jensen are the most patient five year olds I have ever met. Seriously. Watching Sam re-adjust to parenthood is like watching Godzilla destroy Tokyo and cry afterwards because he didn’t mean too. Still we can’t complain that much. Sam’s little lawyer business is going swimmingly and he’s out of bed everyday. Sometimes I watch his door in the mornings worried that this will be the day he slips back into his grief. It’s still there, just hidden under the day to day grind.
When Sam and the twins first walked up to the front door I thought I’d be taking on three depressed family members. Instead I’ve got two extremely well adjusted kids and one broken down baby brother. I think the twins know something we don’t. Maybe they’re like that kid from ‘The Sixth Sense’…Maybe they can still feel their mother floating around.
I don’t know if that comforts me slightly or worries me.
Sometimes I fear that this is it for us. That we don’t get a happily ever after. Heck I’ve resigned myself to that fact but it pisses me off that Sam’s fairytale life was burned away when he did nothing wrong and you have to rely on Gordon’s strength to see him through.
Why should we have to live in fear over who we love? Shouldn’t we get to have normal worries like everybody else? Why has it got to be like this?
I’m just ranting kid. Ignore me. It’s been a tough day and I’m just tired of it. Is it too much to ask for a little happiness after all the shit we’ve put up with? Maybe it is too much.
Phone me soon kid. I’m worried about you too.
Dean
Dean sealed up the envelope that held his rant about their lives. He weighed the light folded piece of paper in his hand and wrestled with the idea of posting it. On the one hand Adam had already carried him through bringing Sam back from the dark pit of his grief. He didn’t want his youngest brother to have to carry around the knowledge that Dean was a thirty-six year old man on the edge…and whining about it.
On the other hand Dean wanted to scream and shout to the heavens about the unfairness of it all. He wanted some one to know that he was lonely, that he was tired and that he needed help.
Dean decided that Adam could already sense what he felt so writing it down on a tiny bit of lined paper wasn’t going to make his blonde brother feel any differently. But it would help him to know the words were out there somewhere, instead of haunting him.
The oldest Winchester sighed deeply as he flipped the tin lid on their mailbox closed with his broken worded letter hidden within. The moon was full and bright in the sky and Dean took comfort in its constant non-judgemental presence. A soft golden ring circled the marble white rock and Dean knew that trouble wasn’t far away.
He kicked some pebbles into the grass as he slowly made his way back to the house, his hands tucked tightly into his denim jeans. The sudden spike of fear and pain jolted Dean and he almost fell into the bushes lining the front porch. Sam was a bundle of worry and confusion so that left only…
“Adam!” Dean shouted as he heard the phone begin to ring inside the house.
Dean skidded to a stop in front of the plastic phone narrowly missing an anxious Sam who’d jumped down the stairs to reach the hallway.
“Adam what happened?” Dean demanded as soon as the hand set was close enough to his face.
“Can you come get me Dean?” Adam’s timid voice crackled through the bad connection.
“Where are you?” Dean didn’t need to think twice. His only thought was centred on finding Adam and protecting him from whatever had inspired the broken whimper’s that barely made it through the increasingly bad phone signal.
“Adam’s holed up in a motel a few days drive from here. We can make it three days drive if we push it.” Dean informed his Uncle as he packed his duffel with a few extra clothes.
“Don’t you worry son. Ellen and I will take care of things here. You just concentrate on Adam boy. Bring him home, I don’t care who you have to burn to make it happen. I’ll pay your bail.” Dean smiled at the serious tone in Bobby’s voice. There was no doubting the old warlock’s intent to bail them out of whatever trouble they’d find fetching Adam. Dean wondered, briefly, if the old man had enough to bail them out if they had to kill someone.
“Dean I’ve booked our flight. Come on.” Sam stuck his head round Dean’s doorway quickly before disappearing again.
“Wait! What flight?” Dean yelled after the giant.
“Adam’s in trouble right now. We don’t have time to break speed limits, a plane will get us there by morning.” Sam gave Dean his famous Bitchface as if to say ‘Do I really have to spell it out for you?’. Dean could have enjoyed the brief sign of the old Sammy if not for the lead weight that had settled in his gut.
“You can’t fault his logic son. It’ll just be a quick flight and you can even drive back if everything goes well.” Bobby’s lip twitched slightly and Dean glared at the old man.
Oh how Dean hated flying…
“Are you humming Metallica?” Sam questioned as he watched his older brother try and glue himself into his chair with sheer will power. Sam could almost hear the chair groaning.
“Shut up it calms me down…” Dean grumbled stiff as a board. Sam wanted to laugh as the eldest and supposedly fearless Winchester almost leapt from his chair as the engines began to roar behind them. The pale sweaty face of his brother halted any laughter that might have begun to bubble in Sam’s chest.
“Sorry…You could have mentioned you were afraid of flying.” Sam pointed out. Dean glared at his younger brother from the corner of his eye.
“I’m not afraid. Just…If we were meant to fly evolution would have given us wings. I’d rather be sitting behind a wheel then putting my faith in this tin can.” Dean mumbled defensively as his hands clenched around the arm rests. Sam wisely kept his mouth shut for the reminder of their flight as he watched his brother clench even more in the business class seat.
Sam slammed the door of the bright yellow cab as Dean shakily exited the smoky cologne choking interior. The eldest Winchester was still a little pale as he straightened up and took a deep cleansing breath of fresh air.
“Ok Adam said he was in room thirty-nine. Come on Dean.” Sam reminded his brother for the fifth time in thirty minutes. Dean just rolled his eyes as he bypassed the six-foot plus man and headed towards the small reception booth that still had a light on even though it was well after midnight.
Sam closed his eyes as his brother argued with the bubble-gum chewing Goth chick more interested in Brad and Angelina’s latest baby then giving them directions to their youngest siblings hide-away.
The fear had lessened since they’d gotten off the phone with Adam, almost like the very thought that his brother’s would traverse the North American continent in the early hours of the morning had calmed him down. Still Sam was worried about the level of fear their young brother was consumed by and the undercurrent of dull pain. What ever had happened to Adam had been bad enough to continue to cling to his emotional state several hours later. Sam wasn’t looking forward to the story behind this adventure.
Adam had honestly thought he was onto a winner with Gordon. He was very wrong. Catastrophically wrong.
The sex was amazing and Adam certainly didn’t mind spending all of his free time writhing in Gordon’s arms and begging for more or harder god please. Gordon was an intense and very goal orientated man and Adam found no fault with that. In fact he loved it because, again, the sex was amazing. He always felt like he was the only person who mattered when he was lost in Gordon’s touches, kisses or bites. And really that was pretty damn awesome even if it did make him sound like a thirteen year old girl. Another plus point for Adam was Gordon’s strength. Not just physical but mental too. The older dark skinned man had lost his entire family but his grief was long since spent and Gordon had continued with his life filing away the loss in the back of his mind.
And there was the problem. Gordon’s heart had obviously not been in their relationship. He probably hadn’t used the metaphorical home of emotion since his family’s death. After all if Gordon had really loved Adam, he wouldn’t have beaten the shit out of the twenty-five year old when he’d come clean about his family and their gifts.
In fact Gordon had pretty much gone medieval on Adam’s ass, claiming he was a monster and needed to be put down like a sick dog.
So Adam conceded he may have had a terrible taste in partners…
Especially when Gordon had left him bloody and broken on their living room floor to go borrow his Bible-bashing friends gun to finish the job.
As Gordon stood framed in their front door, the light from the hallway giving him an eerie unearthly glow, his knuckles bloody and ripped, Adam had felt fear. True horrific fear that curled around his spine like a cold fist. Once Gordon had left Adam had pulled himself up wincing as broken bones scraped against each other and then he ran. He stole Gordon’s car and drove like a maniac to a motel just outside the city and phoned his brother’s. It took him ten minutes to reach the relative safety of the two-star motel and only once he was safely inside the grimy bathroom under the faded the light of the dangling bulb did he cry.
For the first time in years Adam cried. Large fat tears streamed down his cheeks as he took great gulps of air. He admitted it in that grey dingy motel bathroom, that he had indeed fallen for Gordon. He loved the dark powerful man with everything his fragile heart could give. And it had been thrown back in his face shaped like a fist.
So Adam sobbed and hiccupped as blood mixed with tears and stained his red plaid shirt and ripped denim jeans. In a moment of hysteria he laughed as he realized he’d escaped Gordon’s grasp with no shoes. His socks were muddy and soaked through with the late night drizzle and one big toe speckled with blood poked out of the fraying cotton.
Adam’s face hurt from the tears and the bruises that would no doubt make him look like a bloody Picasso painting. Adam’s arms hurt and he realized that his left arm in particular was broken in possibly three places making it look like lightning bolt. His chest hurt too and Adam added broken ribs and possibly bruised internal organs to his list of injuries.
He felt light headed and rested his bruised cranium against the dirty toilet seat for a moment and was surprised when he opened his eyes again that he could hear banging. Using his unbroken arm Adam gingerly wiped the crusted blood and tears from his eyes and tried to focus on the location of the banging.
The door. Adam swore under his breath before he realised that Gordon hadn’t found him, in fact the two gentlemen behind the flimsy wood were his anxious and extremely worried siblings.
Adam let the familiarity of their shared bond course through him and ease his pain. He didn’t realise that he hadn’t moved since the pounding of Dean’s fist on the door had begun and was momentarily surprised as Dean crouched down in front of him.
“Hey kid.” Dean’s voice was soft but there was an underlying tone of anger and sadness.
“I have shitty taste in men…” Adam offered as a greeting his words felt raw as they scratched their way out of his throat.
“No surprise there…Let’s get you fixed up and then you can tell us what happened.” Dean chuckled humourlessly as he moved to carefully lift Adam from the mucky floor.
The next few hours were spent in silence. It wasn’t uncomfortable but it wasn’t comfortable either. The quiet just hung in the air like smoke and Adam wondered if anybody was going to talk. Sam had pulled a small first aid kit from his duffel whilst Dean had grabbed a bowl from the cupboard and had attempted to fill it with warm water only to find the tap dispensed some brown gravel filled liquid that was defiantly not safe for cleaning wounds let alone drinking. So Adam watched through a concussion haze as his older brother disappeared for a few moments (possibly longer but Adam’s sense of time was skewed) before returning with clean warm water and fresh towels that left a fragrant sent in the air.
It wasn’t long (or maybe it was) before Adam could have played an extra in The Mummy. His arms and chest were tightly wrapped in crisp white bandages and Adam was briefly amazed to find his left arm wasn’t broken but apparently his concussion had fucked with his eyes. Adam allowed his brother’s to clean and wrap every cut and bruise with very little complaint. The pounding in the front of his head made him sleepy and the pain dulled. Effectively he was like putty in his siblings hands although that didn’t ease the worry and concern that ebbed and flowed through their bond. Adam was sure it had only increased their apprehension.
“So we’re striking Gordon from the Christmas card list?” Dean grinned at his brother aiming to lift the mood and falling short.
“Can we turn him into a toad?” Adam asked as he tilted to one side. His words slurred. Dean’s grin twitched and fell as he positioned Adam to lie on the uncomfortable bed in a way he wouldn’t cause himself undue harm.
“Yeah Addy. We’ll turn him into a toad as soon as we get you safely back home.” Sam knelt beside his brothers, his forehead bunched up in a concern. Dean hated the tears that gathered in the corners of Sam’s eyes and vowed that being turned into a toad would be the lest of Gordon’s problems.
“Come on kid. Let’s get you home.” Dean muttered as he motioned for Sam to collect their things as he helped Adam stand up straight instead of leaning of to one side.
They made it to the car park without Adam collapsing; in fact the fresh air seemed to help the youngest Winchester regain his balance. The cab Sam had ordered over the phone whilst he packed was waiting near the receptionist’s booth, light’s dimmed and motor purring quietly in the cold night. It was welcome sight to the boys. Adam looked up into the sky as Dean opened the passenger door for him. The moon was a large light in the gloomy night sky with soft clouds tinged with red crossing it.
“Shit!” Adam muttered and Dean raised an eyebrow at his brother before following his gaze.
“Don’t worry about it.” Dean shrugged as he gently shoved Adam down and into the cab.
“No! Wait, my tiger’s eye bracelet is in Gordon’s car. Hold on a second!” With a burst of strength Adam launched himself under Dean’s arm and hurried across the blacktop to the stolen vehicle. He tugged the keys out of his pocket and opened the passenger door of the old car. Adam snagged the golden brown bracelet from the rear-view mirror and held it tightly in his grasp.
He didn’t expect the strong muscled arms to wrap around his bruised frame and drag him over the leather front seats and into the back. Nor did he expect the cold muzzle of a gun to be shoved under his chin.
“Adam!” Dean yelled as he dropped his head into the car. The oldest Winchester froze as he saw his frightened youngest sibling in the clutches of a dark skinned man with a deadly and dangerous glint in his eyes. The silver tint of metal glinted in the moonlight and Dean’s heart stuttered as he recognized the silhouette of a gun pointing at Adam’s throat.
“You drive.” Gordon ordered.
[Chapter Two - Part Two]