You're broken, so am I (5/?) NC-17

[demondean]

You're broken, so am I 5/?

Title: You're broken, so am I 5/?
Pairing: Sam/Demon!Dean
Warnings: AU, post apocalypse fic, dark themes, Sam is 16, m/m, incest
Disclaimer: I do not own the boys, I just took them out to play.
Word Count: 5463
Summary: This is an AU in which the apocalypse has already happened and brothers Winchesters have been separated during it, 16 years later they meet up again, not knowing they are brothers. Dean has been turned into a demon and Sam is working as a stripper at a gay club.
Background: The apocalypse went down and the world changed when half of the Erath's population was killed and Demons lead by Lucifer took the power on Earth into their own hands. The heavenly forces where forced to make peace with them and the humans who survived the war started to rebuilt the society, this time with Demons at the top of the foodchain.

Author's Note: Betad by my darling darthnikki  who decided to save my life. ILU babes! Thank you for being your awesome self! I know this has been prolonged for way too long and I am sorry. :( I do however hope to get back on track with my writings soon and hope you'll stick with me. :)


You're broken, so am I

Chapter V

What was Dean was saying; it couldn’t be true. Sam refused to believe it. It couldn’t. He was a hunter… He was not…

Dean looked dead serious as he assured him:

“Believe me kid, I wouldn’t lie to you about something as important as that.”

“I’m not a demon.” Sam again protested.

I’m not he thought panicked. The guy in my head might be but I’m not.

“I didn’t say you were.” Dean said with a small sigh and pushed himself up into a sitting position, he looked at Sam as if he was trying to see right into his soul and mind.

“I said you had some demon blood in you. Very little for that matter but just enough to give you the visions and…”

Dean’s face cleared, coming to some realization

“Wait a minute - this is probably why you are feeling so crappy, why the visions hurt so much. You see demon blood is addictive - who ever gets a dose needs another and then another and finally…”

Dean paused and smirked, but there was something sad in his eyes.

“This is how I turned into what I am now - Azazel fed me his blood and then later my father. It makes you strong but when you don’t get a new dose you start to have nasty withdrawal effects.”

Sam felt his insides going numb with Dean’s words. No - this could not have been the truth. He would have fucking known if he had ever drunk demon blood and even if he somehow had he was surely never gonna do it again. He didn’t want to be ‘stronger’ or have these terrible nightmares or visions if that’s what they were. Oh god, if they were really vision’s then all of this terrible stuff he had seen… had it really all happened? Sam was too scared to even think about that possability. Why was this stuff even happening to him? All he ever wanted was to be was just a normal kid, or as normal as he could be working in a strip club and living in Babel.

“Well this revelation certainly kills the mood,” Dean said with a sarcastic huff, zipping himself back in and reaching for his coat pocket, pulling out a pack of peanut M&Ms to Sam’s surprise.

“You like these?” Dean asked, tearing open the package and extending it towards Sam.

Like? Sam loved sweets. They were nearly the hardest thing to get in the post apocalyptic world, with the economy blown to hell and all but his Dad had managed to get him some candy from time to time when he was a kid. And yes, he remembered the man he was dreaming about loving sweets.

Sam was beginning to wonder if maybe all demons loved sugar. Shouldn’t they have been more into blood and sulfur and such stuff?

He smiled to Dean: “You don’t seem like the candy loving type.”

Dean snorted: “Dude! First of all - M&Ms are not candy. They’re one of the most delicious things in the world. And second of all - I’m many things you don’t expect me to be. Here.” He poured a bit more than half of the package content onto Sam’s palm and propped himself sitting next to him, their shoulders and hips touching and their backs pressed to the backboard.

They both popped the colorful candies into their mouth in silence, time passed Dean seemingly lost in some thoughts and Sam doing his best to savor the wonderful taste while trying to figure out what the Hell was going on.

It was like a damn sudoku trying to understand how this all matched together. He was sure it did though. That just beyond his grasp there was this bigger picture he was missing he just had to find it for it all to fit into place.

“Don’t worry Sammy - we’re gonna figure this all out,” Dean finally spoke up and turned to Sam to give him a reassuring smile and for whatever reason Sam did, he felt comforted by the demon’s words.

“I see you like the M&Ms.” Dean continued, taking Sam’s now empty palm into his own hand, leaning down and running his tongue over it, swiping away the last traces of melted chocolate.

Sam felt a shiver run down his spine because damn did Dean have pretty lips, and a pretty mouth, and having the wet heat of them pressed against his palm felt wonderful.

Sam was praying that this wasn’t just a random mood, that Dean really had some nice oral fixation.

Dean raised his eyes to Sam’s, the thick eyelashes fluttering as he smiled apologetically and whispered:

“Sorry - you just taste really good.”

Sam had to swallow before he could nod and make a small indifferent shrug. I fucking taste good? He thought What about Dean himself? Sam was thinking back on their kiss remembering how Dean tasted like bitter coffee and pie and something that Sam couldn’t even name. He had tasted fucking delicious.

But before Sam could reach down and claim Dean’s pretty mouth again, Dean was already pushing himself back up and saying:

“So, Sammy. I think I need to hear a bit more about you.”

Sam huffed as a trained response though he had to admit that somehow he was quite okay with Dean calling him Sammy. He had always hated that nickname, because it made him sound like the chubby twelve year old he had once been, he preferred to be called Sam or Samuel, Adam mostly used the last to emphasize his big brother status. Adam, Dad… Sam felt the familiar sadness and anger rise in him when he thought of his family.

“Why do you keep calling me Sammy? And there’s not much to speak of. Even my own father didn’t want me so here I am’’

Sam snapped, instantly regretting his behavior. It wasn’t Dean’s fault his life was the mess it was, hell, from what Sam had seen so far the demon was one of the few trying to help him.

Dean ran a thumb over his lover lip, sending Sam a long disapproving glance before saying:

“I’m calling you that cause I think it fits you. You’re Sammy, not Sam, and I don’t wanna be rude but if we’re ever gonna figure out how you got that demon blood you’re gonna need to speak to me about your past. I need something more than what you just told me”

Sam’s shoulders slouched as he sighed deep and nodded. He hated how Dean seemed to be right about everything.

“Come on,” Dean said to him, a parenting kind of firmness in his voice, he moved Sam to lie down so his head was in Dean’s lap and he could look up at him and talk while lying comfortably.

Sam felt a bit awkward at someone guiding him like that, but he was also pleased when his neck was comfortable against Dean’s leg, God, Sam couldn’t ignore the strong muscled thigh.

“You comfy?” Dean asked with a small smile and covered Sam with a blanket before snaking his hand back under it so he could massage small circles on Sam’s bare chest.

Sam nodded because it did feel good. Having Dean here in his bed with him was at the same time very surreal but good. The demon’s hand was unexpectedly gentle and warm against his skin and Sam couldn’t really imagine those same hands hurting anyone.

Dean wasn’t evil. He might be a demon, but Sam felt like the more time he spent with him the more glimpses he got at the human side still residing within him.

He was sitting here after all, caressing Sam and saying how he loved M&Ms instead of how he would like to rape or kill him like any other demon would have.

Sam finally let himself relax under Dean’s comforting motions and let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. Talking about his past suddenly seemed very scary. He hadn’t really ever told anyone about it. Sure he had kept his journal but that was it. Nobody except himself knew the whole truth about his past and sharing it with Dean was hard. But somewhat of a relief too. He wouldn’t be alone with this mess that was his life anymore, he would have someone to help him make sense of it. To share the burden with. Or maybe Dean wouldn’t ever wanna speak to him again. There was only one way to find it out.

“I’m not very sure where I should start… I was born a year before the apocalypse. My parents were normal and good people, I don’t really remember my mom cause she died in a house fire when I was only six months old, but my father often spoke about her when he was drunk and I’ve seen pictures of her. She was really pretty - like an angel.”

Sam sent Dean a quick glance after realizing what he had just said but Dean looked indifferent to the comparison,

“So anyway - like I said, I was too little to actually remember the fire but I know my mother died in it and my brother went missing and that it changed my whole life. My father became bitter after that, he sought revenge, sure that there had been something supernatural about the fire and he didn’t have to look long before the apocalypse went down and demons made their presence known. My father joined the hunters and raised me to be one.”

Sam paused and sighed lightly. He wouldn’t have guessed that talking about his father would hurt this bad, that he would feel like he needed to make him sound more noble or better. He was used to thinking about John as a bastard who had deserted him but now he was surprised by how ungrateful he actually sounded. His father had done the best he could after all. He had lost so much and it was only natural it made him a bit desperate, made him drink and made him train Sam, make sure he wouldn’t be a victim. And he had, after all, left in the hope of saving Sam’s brother.

“He was really broken after what happened to our family - the first few years were a bit better but when it became obvious our side was loosing he started drinking more. Became a harsher. I guess he lost hope”

Sam had to press air out from his lungs to keep his voice steady.

“My father was the only family I knew. He didn’t speak about my brother. Only when he was drunk, then he sometimes gave me little bits of information.”

Sam dared a look in Dean’s direction now and he was amazed by the sympathy and warmth he saw in the other’s face. Dean didn’t even have to say anything; he just ran his free hand through Sam’s soft strands and nodded and that was all the encouragement Sam needed.

“My father told me that my brother was dead, that he had died while trying to get me out of the burning house, and I accepted it and didn’t ask him a lot about him cause he usually just got angry or upset if I did. So it was just the two of us and some hunter-friends for a while. I was about eight when the visions began. At first I thought they were just dreams, sometimes more like nightmares, but I was so young and confused that I didn’t hesitate to tell my father and Bobby about them. I think they thought they were just side-effects of the hunter’s life and I did the best I could to pretend that they were just that though a part of me was already beginning to realize that it was something more. So I started keeping a journal about all the dreams, when I had them; where they were, those that felt different in which I felt like I was walking around and seeing things in somebody-else’s skin.”

Sam paused again, unsure if he was maybe saying too much. Keeping a freakin journal like a girl? Yeah right Sammy - that will surely earn you some bonus points.

But instead of mocking him, Dean asked: “So you can read and write?”

Sam nodded - he had almost forgotten that there were many born straight before the war or during it that hadn’t bothered with an education.

“My father and my uncle Bobby taught me and I love books so it wasn’t really too hard.” He explained with a slight shrug.

“Uncle Bobby?” Dean asked, the hand on Sam’s chest now idly playing with one of his nipples, making it a bit hard for Sam to focus on anything other than the delicious simulation.

God how Sam wished he could just forget about everything and let himself fall into oblivion in Dean’s hands.

Sam nodded: “Bobby was my dad’s best friend and he’s the one who took care of me after my dad left.”

Dean pursed his lips and nodded. Then asking: “Why did your father leave you?”

Sam had to sigh and shrug. He wished to God he knew the complete answer to that question.

“I still don’t know exactly. He just took off one day when I was ten, leaving me in a crappy motel with instructions not to contact any of his friends and run if he hadn’t returned by the evening. He never came back. I was… I was scared. I just wandered around for a few days but it soon became clear that I needed to find a place to stay. Dad and Bobby had had some big nasty fight two months before it and I knew he’d still be pissed but I still took the chance and went to him, technically he and dad weren’t friends anymore and I figured dad’s warning didn’t apply to him then.”

Sam turned his face a bit more against the soft worn denim of Dean’s jeans and tried to keep himself strong. Talking about stuff should make bearing it easier, not feel as if his heart was being ripped out, shouldn’t it?

“Bobby did take me in but when I told him that we needed to start looking for my father he just shook his head and said that he’ll contact Adam and see what they can do. I asked him who Adam was, because that name wasn’t familiar to me. Bobby answered that it was the name of John’s older son, my half-brother.”

Sam huffed out a breath against Dean’s thigh: “Can you imagine finding out that you have an older brother like that?”

“Wait a minute - didn’t you say your brother was dead or missing or something?” Dean asked; his fingertips running up and down Sam’s shoulder blade.

Sam shook his head -  he could see how it all was confusing to Dean.

“No, Adam’s not the missing brother. He’s the middle one, born from my father’s affair with a nurse, my dad never told me about him. Guess he was embarrassed or he was trying to protect him or something. For whatever reason he didn’t take him in with us when Adam’s mother died - she was Christian and died in the War as far as I know - but he gave him to be raised by the other hunters.”

Sam was praying he wasn’t telling Dean too much and putting his brother in danger because he was pretty sure there wasn’t a demon out there who wouldn’t have loved to have the head of the hunters young leader on a plate.

“Bobby was quite worried about my mental health when he heard that my nightmares were only getting worse - I mean - the stuff I saw. It was terrible. I was just a kid and my mind came up with the worst kind of sexual and violent images you can imagine. Bobby took me to see many doctors and they all said that I had PSD or schizophrenia or something else like that.”

“That’s bullshit,” Dean spoke up with a sudden harsh voice, Sam couldn’t help but to smile a little at the protective tone of the words.

“You were having visions and those guys were just too dumb to realize it.” Dean added, sounding annoyed and reassuringly gripping Sam’s neck.

“I know that now, but at the time I just thought I was going crazy. Bobby also told me that I was losing it and I didn’t know what to say or do to protect myself. No matter how hard I tried, the dreams… visions wouldn’t stop.”

“It must have been hard,” Dean said.

“Yeah - the older I got the more questions I had, and Bobby was really reluctant to answer them. Like he never talked about my brother but once when we were having a huge fight… It slipped over his lips: “You’re father is dead because he went looking for him and I’m not gonna let you get killed too.”

Sam had to stop for a moment as the painful memories were swimming to the surface. God it felt as if it had been just yesterday not years ago.

“Went looking for who?”

“No-one, just forget I said anything, ok kid?”

“No, not okay Bobby. What aren’t you telling me?”

“Sam…”

“I need to know the truth! I’m gonna find it out…One way or another.”

Sam angrily turned towards his closet and pulled out his duffel. He had had enough of this bullshit. Enough of the lies and half-truths. He was gonna get out of here. Leave and find the truth out on his own.

Bobby looked stricken and torn, his left eye twitching slightly as he finally burst out:

“You’re brother Sam. You’re oldest brother. John thought there was still hope of getting him back.”

Sam froze with his grey hoodies held tight in his hands, and half-full duffel bag opened on the bed.

My oldest brother? God how he hated how bad his voice shook when he spoke again.

“You told me that he’s dead, that he died in that house fire. Dad went missing only three years ago.”

Sam’s stomach turned as he was beginning to realize.

“Oh my God, my brother is still alive? And you’ve kept this from me? Why?”

Bobby sighed, suddenly looking very weary. “It was for your own safety you idjit. Your daddy…We only knew for sure the boy didn’t die in the house fire. Your dad told me the demons took him.”

Bobby ran a hand over his salt and pepper beard, then crossed his arms on his chest, looking both sad and defensive when explaining.

“Me and him were just worried you might do something stupid if you found out… Like getting yourself killed or captured. Those creatures are dangerous, Sam.”

Sam felt a lump in his throat and his knees going weak. If his brother was still alive out-there it would change everything He and Adam would both have someone to take care of them, to guard them. He would have an older brother and maybe he would take him away from here and…

“Where… What happened to him?”

Bobby sighed and shook his head: “Kid, I wish I knew. Our best guess is, they took him with them from outside the house the night of the fire. You’re daddy never gave up hope but there’s a big possability they killed him shortly after kidnapping him cause they couldn’t brake him. You’re brother had a kind heart and I’m sure he refused to work with them.”

Sam swallowed and nodded. He had had a glimpse of hope for a second and now it was again gone. Maybe already dead. A brother he never knew and yet…

“What’s his name?”

Bobby shrugged: “I’m sorry kid but you’re father never told me that.”

“So you don’t even know his name?” Dean asked after Sam finished recalling his memories of the fight with Bobby.

Sam shook his head, again daring a look at Dean. The demon seemed thoughtful, his fingertips carefully massaging Sam’s spine, making small goose-bumps rise on his skin.

“So did you leave?” Dean questioned on.

Sam again shook his head. God he had so many times wished he had left that day but truth be told he knew he would have been way too young and stupid to survive on his own.

“I stayed…” He whispered, again taking comfort in the warmness of the other’s body, the small relaxing touches and calm presence.

Maybe this is why I felt so drawn to him - demon blood knows demon blood, a small nagging thought rose from the back of his head.

“I helped Bobby do the research and he insisted that I continued with my hunter training so I did. The nightmares still bothered me and I was beginning to feel worse over time - partly cause of their horrifying content, partly just from the physical aspect, you know, I get like this hang-over feeling after them. My head pounding; and my body going weak. It’s about as much fun as getting kicked in the family jewels.”

Dean sent him a sympathetic look before frowning: “But you did leave eventually and came here?”

Sam sighed, again fidgeting and changing his position a bit.

“Bobby… Well let’s just say the war took its toll on him too. He got a bit desperate over the years, believing that the Bible was the only thing that could save us and talking about the apocalypse coming down because mankind had become so corrupted. I think you can imagine what he thought of my dreams… The violence and the sex… I… This guy I was seeing was having sex with other guys. He was gay. Bobby lashed out at me if I dared to mention it to him and he said that I should try to get better, take my medications and pray for forgiveness not dream about horrible acts of sodomy.”

Dean started to laugh, a bit unexpectedly but it was just an amused giggle and Sam kind of understood him. Looking back at that time… He still wondered how he had survived it all but he had to admit it also seemed kinda ridiculous now.

“Well you seem to be quite into sodomy now,” Dean smirked, leaning down and again capturing Sam’s mouth for a unexpectedly gentle kiss, the demon licking Sam’s bottom lip and slightly tugging at it and God, yes! Still tasting as good as Sam remembered and if the long and slow dancing of their tongues was anything to go by then yes - Dean most definitely had some yummy oral fixation thing going there.

Finally Dean pulled back a bit, his breath hot against Sam’s lips as he panted to get some air back into his lungs. Sam was panting just as hard if not harder cause his dick was again twitching in his sweatpants, showing that it wanted a bit more than a lot of interrupted foreplay.

But Dean just smiled, all of his perfect features lighting up by the act, making him seem younger and innocent for a few brief moments. Then he again got more serious, frowning and asking:

“I mean - you do like guys, don’t you? Cause if you don’t now would be a really good time to tell me that.”

Sam started to laugh, not tricked by Dean’s serious expression and concerned voice.

“Dude - a little hint here - I work as a stripper in a gay club.” Sam huffed with an exaggerated eye roll and dramatic sigh.

Dean pursed his lips, obviously suppressing a smile and nodded: “That’s right. I almost forgot that with all these nice stories about your Christian up-bringing and all. What happened to that anyway? Aren’t you supposed to fight evil, not molest a shiny-metal pole?”

Sam lightly punched Dean’s thigh and huffed.

“Like I said - Bobby thought I was a freak. A kid with split personality and unnatural urges…”

Sam searched for Dean’s eyes in the darkness and found them, two dark pupils rimmed with the slightest hint of green and full of life. Holding Dean’s gaze made him feel better, more confident.

“I… There was this guy when I was fifteen. His name was Caleb and he was a lot older than me, a friend of my father and Bobby. He showed up at Bobby’s place one day, needing some help from him -- I was really glad to see him after all the years and he seemed to be happy to see me too. I… I trusted him too much. I really just needed someone to talk to about the stuff I couldn’t discuss with Bobby. I mean, I get it that Bobby did the best he could, but I could have never spoken to him about my puberty or that I was beginning to think that I might be gay. I told all these things to Caleb instead and he reassured me that it was all just natural. He… He touched me. First just innocent touches of a friend, then my first kiss, but it soon became clear that he wanted more. And I… I was just so young and confused. I didn’t love him, I liked him as a friend because I’ve never had one but that was it. I didn’t really want to have sex with him but I was thinking it was gonna happen sooner or later anyway and that at least I would know for sure if I liked being with other guys or not.”

Sam paused, turning his head away, not able to look Dean in the eye anymore. He hated how weak he sounded, how weak he still was. Sam sighed softly and brought a hand up to his face, nibbling at the skin around his nails, a bad habit from the stressful life. He was surprised when he felt Dean’s firm hand gripping his wrist, pushing his hand away and holding it still against his chest. God, was that his heart really pounding so loud under his palm, like it was about to burst out of his chest?

“Stop it Sammy! You are feeling guilty over stuff you don’t need to feel guilty about. I mean, I get it; we all make our mistakes when we are young and just exploring this world. It’s not you’re fault you just happened to get paired up with some douche-bag. At least you’re smarter now and can look for someone who would really take care of you and who you would like both as a friend and as a good fuck.”

Sam had to nod in agreement and he felt his mood lightning up a bit. This protective, possessive streak in Dean… It made Sam feel good, made him feel worth something.

“So this Caleb guy wasn’t any good, huh?” Dean questioned on.

He used me. Used the stupid kid to get a good virgin fuck.

Sam shrugged: “He was…  He got what he wanted and I learned that I did like other guys.”

Yeah, he had definitely been coming all over Caleb’s hand and the bed sheets when Bobby walked in on them.

“We… Bobby caught us. You can only imagine how pissed he was. He said I had seduced Caleb. Said…” Sam shook his head. A dirty slut. Did the exact words really even matter anymore?

“Well he was upset. Told me that I was obsessing over my dreams too much. Said I needed to get back to reality and pray for God’s forgiveness instead of following the terrible acts I saw in my dreams. I… I had to burn my journal to get him to calm down a bit and leave me alone in my room. Luckily I had made a copy of it a few weeks before. I took off that night and came here to Babel. I first went to see Adam but Bobby had already tipped him off so my brother said that I could only stay with him if I repent my actions and become a decent hunter.”

God Sam still remembered that night so clear. The way they had sat in Adam’s apartment and Sam had been surprised by how grown up his older brother had become. There was something to him…  Something weary. The same weariness he had seen in their father. And then Adam had finally said: “They chose me to be their leader today.”

A few simple words but what they meant. Adam had been just sixteen, same as he was right now, when he took on his shoulder’s the last hope of all mankind. The hunters, now a few but still working underground, were all the humans had to count on.

In that same day he and Sam had chosen their paths, Sam had chosen sin and Adam to fight the good fight.

Sam didn’t think he could ever forget the look he saw in his brother’s eyes when he told him he was through with hunting and wanted to have a normal life.

A traitor, a coward. Maybe Adam was right.

Sam tightened his jaw and finished his story to Dean: “I told him I was through with hunting and didn’t regret my actions and I’ve been on my own ever since.”

Dean nodded and they both were silent for a few moments. Sam was starting to feel sleepy again in the warm and comfortable position and he couldn’t suppress a yawn. The nightmare hadn’t really given him a chance to rest himself and he had been working late anyway.

Dean gave him a pat on the shoulder: “Okay kiddo. I think we both could use some sleep now.”

Sam had to agree cause he was feeling sleepy and extremely tired all of a sudden, all this talking about the past draining him emotionally.

Dean was silent for one more moment before he hesitantly asked:

“Should I leave?”

Sam quickly shook his head. If there was anything he wanted right now it was not to be alone.

Dean nodded and peeled off his leather jacket, propping Sam’s head up from his lap, guiding the stripper to lie properly on the bed and then almost wrapping himself around him, his arms finding their place around Sam and Sam’s head perfectly fitting into the crook of Dean’s neck.

Sam let out a small content sigh when he was finally lying still in Dean’s embrace.

God he had so much to think about.

Dean’s breaths were steady ghosts of hot breath in his hair and Sam decided to close his eyes for just a brief moment and enjoy the way he felt before figuring it all out.

But the second he closed his eyes and relaxed his mind and body he fell into the realm of dreamless sleep.

69696969

Sam woke up to the feeling of hot breath ghosting over the sensitive skin at the back of his neck. God how warm and good he felt. He was so used to waking up cold, lonely or scared that this felt almost surreal.

Maybe it was just a dream. Cause who…?

Sam slightly shifted his body, now also feeling a pair of strong arms around him and a leg thrown over his thigh.

He quickly opened his eyes to check whose embrace he was sleeping in, because damn he felt so nice but…

“Dean,” Sam voiced the name with surprise as his mind recalled details about the night before.

Dean was still sleeping with his jeans and Zeppelin t-shirt on, his hair all mussed and his freckles Dear Lord, how could I’ve missed those before!, standing out in the pale morning light.

Dean opened his eyes at the same time, peeking at Sam through half closed lids and smiling to him one of the sincerest and sweetest smiles Sam had ever seen.

“I’m sleepy,” the demon whispered as he pulled Sam back closer to himself and skimmed his lips over his cheek and temples.

Sam smiled. Actually smiled, because how could he not smile when he felt this fucking happy, this right. He answered with also a whisper: “I’m dreaming. I must be. My mind is making this up.”

Dean laughed: “Well Sammy - it’s not your mind, it’s me and this particular demon here needs to sleep for at least another hour before it can present its bad-ass self to the world. So close your eyes kid and go back to sleep.”

Sam chuckled at Dean’s comment and let his head fall back to Dean’s chest, loving the feeling of firm muscles under his cheek and the loud strong beat of Deans heart against his ear.

Sam was pretty sure Dean was humming Metallica under his breath for some reason but then his thoughts became all too jumbled up and he fell back asleep.

TBC.