Sam's Bond Part 1/2, Sam/Lucifer, SPN Fic
Title: Sam's Bond (Part 1/2)
Author: fallingemerald
Fandom: Supernatural
Rating: PG-13
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Sam/Lucifer, Dean, Aphrodite, Minor Characters
Warning(s): Bonding, Dream Molestation, Dub-con
Spoiler(s): Bits and Pieces of Five and Four, though not much.
Word Count: 3403
Beta Reader: None,though I tried to clean it up by myself as well as I could.
Rants: Okay so, Sephie wanted some Sam/Luci love, and I got this out, I'm not sure if I did Lucifer justice (I mean he was in about five episodes--hard to get his character in just that many.) (Haha, Lucifer...Justice, the irony.) But I think it's pretty okay. The Aphrodite bit is a bit of lore from Chthonic and bastardized to suit my needs. Basically Aphrodite is just an impression of her true self, think an Avatar but with limited prowess and mind. So, that's pretty much it, I'll probably have the second (Which should be the final) part up sooner or later...
Summary: Lucifer is trying to get to Sam, Sam just has to stay awake a little longer. It can't be that bad right?
Disclaimer: I do not own Spn, seriously...And I wouldn't really want to either, how much work do you think Krikpe has to do that's spn related in a day? Yeah, not for me.
Sam's Bond
Sam wasn’t a normal man, never had been, or at least he doubted it. This was just another weird part of his life and he wasn’t sure how to feel about it.
Lucifer stood before him in his vessel that looked slightly burnt. He was speaking; his voice was silky smooth as ever, and full of lies. “Sam, why don’t you just give in?”
Sam snorted, and rolled his eyes. “Maybe, because I’m not an idiot?” He glared at Nick’s body and moved through the park like mindscape, away from the man, wishing he’d just wake up but he didn’t; like every other time. He felt Lucifer slide behind him and he froze. He doubted Lucifer would hurt him, or at least physically any other way seemed to be open hunting season.
“Oh, but you aren’t Sam, when have I ever called you one?” Lucifer pressed a gentle hand against Sam’s face and turned his face towards Lucifer’s. “I would never insult you.” He grinned and pressed his forehead against Sam.
Sam twitched and moved away. “Don’t touch me.” He shivered; the fallen angel didn’t seem to understand personal space. Lucifer would lean into Sam or touch him, caress him, and Sam was sure he only did it get these reactions.
“Oh, Sam, I don’t know why you are so…” Lucifer paused, and licked his lips, “So, distant, I’ll be much more than touching your body once you say yes.”
Sam glared at the devil; did he have to say it that way? He was sure that he should feel a slight nausea, but this argument was so run through that Sam felt nothing except annoyance. “I’m not here for your amusement, get out of my head.” He fumed, he was supposed to be resting after such a long day; Dean had snapped at him so much today. He was ready to leave his brother for a week, minimum, just to get some peace, and Lucifer always visited in his dreams, which did not help.
“I can make it all better you know,” Lucifer shifted closer to Sam once again, and pressed into his side. “The fights with your brother, you don’t even have to listen to him anymore, I mean you’re with me. All that really matters is him, him all safe, isn’t it? To you, Sam, I know it is.” Lucifer leaned forward and held Sam’s head closer to his lips, “I can give you freedom from all of this, and you just have to let me in. All I need is a few months at most, and then you’ll be back with your brother, safe. Don’t you want that? Your brother and you, I might even add a house after I fix the world, I mean…”
Sam glanced down at Lucifer’s face and felt a momentary flutter of want. It was short lived but he knew Lucifer was getting to him. He wanted Dean to be safe, wanted Dean to not hurt anymore, because he knew Dean wasn’t going to survive this war well, if at all. He winced and would have pulled away but Lucifer’s grip on his neck was tight. His lips formed a thin smile, as if he sensed Sam’s desire.
“Sam, Sammy.” Lucifer stared at Sam’s eyes, pressing his body flush against Sam’s.
Sam froze, this wasn’t the first time Lucifer had ever been this close, but it was the first time they had been this intimate and he didn’t know what happened, just that he froze.
Lucifer pressed his lips gently at first to Sam’s. His right hand slide across the other man’s chest, towards his waist and his left continued to grip Sam’s neck. “Sammy, let me in.” He kissed the taller man again.
Sam gasped, tried to push Lucifer away but couldn’t. His body still didn’t cooperate but he could move his head away, at least from the kiss. “Don’t, what the fuck?” He cursed, and spat. His breath heavy, he didn’t know why he suddenly felt so hot, and he would be damn if a man and especially Lucifer even made him want this, sexual contact.
“I’m just letting you know I’m here, here for you. ” Lucifer bit his own lip, not letting go, just not kissing either. His smile was still there, thin, and his eyes narrowed, a knowing look of contempt.
“I don’t need you!” He growled, Sam didn’t need this bullshit, didn’t need these lies. He wished for a moment that he could kill Lucifer here and now. The few times he had actually somehow took control of the mindscape of course didn’t work; he just reappeared the next day and would work harder to break Sam.
Lucifer glared at Sam, pressed his fingers across Sam’s cheek, and disappeared.
Sam woke up panting for breath. He scanned the room, his hazel eyes pausing over his brother’s form in the other bed.
Safe.
Sam shivered, ignored the echo of his voice in his head, and uncurled from his fetal position on top of the bed, and stood. “Not going to win.” He muttered, wished that Lucifer wasn’t getting to him, but he was, and it was tempting. “Fuck.” Sam rubbed a hand over his face, shook his head, and walked to the bathroom. He locked the door, washed his face and frowned at the reflection. The tall hunter had long shadows around his eyes, and he could tell he needed more sleep. He doubted he was getting anymore sleep tonight, though. He wasn’t sure if it was Lucifer who messed with his body and mind or his fear that Lucifer would return but he never got any shut-eye after the devil was in his head. He shook his head, dried his hands and face, and left the restroom. He glanced down at the bed and laid down. It was worth a shot, even if the man knew it wasn’t going to do any good.
Sam got coffee in the morning. It was around seven, he was actually thankful that a coffee shop was open in this small town. He sipped the pure black coffee in his right hand, normally he’d have a latte, especially when he was in a mood, but today he just needed the caffeine. “Damn Lucifer.” He mumbled into his coffee and ignored a nearby woman who stared at him. Maybe if she had a devil in her head she’d understand. He grouched, pulled his jacket closer to his body and continued walking.
The motel room was a tad warmer than outside but Sam kept the jacket on. He placed the other cup of coffee near Dean and rested against the other motel bed. A newspaper he’d taken from the coffee stand was open and practically demolished with his red sharpie, and his laptop open across his lap, by the time Dean had woken up and drank his coffee. Sam barely had the attention span to listen to Dean bitch about the coffee being cold.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Dean grumbled, slipped into a pair of jeans that looked clean, and two shirts.
The younger man twitched, “Nothing’s wrong with me Dean, just get packed, I found a new hunt, and you said you were tired of this town yesterday.” He refused to tell Dean that he had Lucifer in his dreams; he’d lived this long without his brother knowing, and hell maybe Dean was getting accosted by Micheal. He wondered if giggling at the thought of an Angel of the Lord flirting with their vessel meant he needed more sleep. He looked up. Dean was looking at him in that way that Sam knew meant he wanted to actually talk so he busied himself with putting away his own stuff.
Dean didn’t speak, just shuffled over to the bed and tried to pretend that he wasn’t pulling out a knife from under the pillows.
The two were in the car by half past nine. Sam turned in the key to the motel lobby, muttered about ungrateful brothers and dosing their coffee with laxatives, and left the lobby quickly.
Sam relaxed in the car, dosing off and on every five minutes, mostly just trying to keep himself from falling into a deep enough sleep that Lucifer could get into his head. The short amount of sleep was probably not very helpful mentally but he thought it would get him through the day unlike the caffeine, which had faded an hour on the road. He ignored Dean’s short jerky motions towards his side of the car; he knew his brother was suspicious about his constant need for sleep. He doesn’t have the devil in his head. Sam bitched mentally. He somehow refrained from saying it aloud though; he could just imagine how that would go. Him letting it slip that Lucifer was in his head, it would be great.
Three hours later the two stopped at a station and dinner on the road. It was run-down, almost falling apart at the seams but they slipped in, and sat down quietly. At least, Sam sat down quietly; Dean was loudly proclaiming the glories of pie when he saw all the flavors of pie they served here. If Sam didn’t know better he’d say this was Dean’s heaven. They ordered two coffees, a salad for Sam, and burger and fries for Dean (“With an extra helping of pie, miss” He winked).
The waitress smiled, winked at Dean, and swayed away. She brought back two cups and set down both with several small cream packets.
Sam glared at Dean when he poured several sugars into Sam’s Coffee.
“What?” Dean widened his green-eyes at Sam, “You’re terrible when you don’t have your coffee with some type of sugar. I mean seriously, you were so angry this morning that I had to stop myself from calling you a pmsing girl.”
Sam glared, and glanced down at his coffee. He should be angry at his brother, but part of him did want to taste coffee that wasn’t black. He didn’t care what Dean thought of his latte fixation, sugar and milk coffee tasted better than pure black. He held his glare on Dean and finally only took the drink once his brother was thoroughly distracted by the returned waitress. He opened a few of the cream packets and poured them in, stirred quickly and gulped it down. Ah, finally. He missed his latte.
Dean was grinning at him when he turned back to his food, after flirting with the waitress even more, and smirked at the empty packets of milk. “I told you.” He took a sip of his black coffee and started eating.
Sam would have glared but his coffee made him feel good, and who the fuck cared, it’s not like his brother bothered him more than Lucifer; lately anyway. He gave a half-hearted stare before he worked on his salad.
The bill was paid, which had a discount that Sam was sure was thanks to Dean’s smile and wink. He was forgetting about when Dean disappeared into the restroom for twenty minutes while he sipped his refilled coffee.
Their final stop was close to Colorado, the northern border of New Mexico; the small town of about one thousand residents. Sam made Dean get a motel room before looking through his research. There had been a few disappearances of live humans and livestock, though more animals then humans, and the strange annual occurrences had drawn Sam’s eye. He flipped open his laptop and booted it up.
Dean knocked on the car window, gesturing at the now open motel room. He moved to the trunk, pulled out his bag and entered the room.
Sam rolled his eyes and closed the laptop lid and grabbed his duffel from the back. He made sure the Impala was locked, the last time he’d left the trunk open just for a second Dean had yelled at him for five minutes. He sometimes had to wonder if he had to compete for Dean’s love with a bloody car. The hazel-eyed man patted his laptop and walked inside the motel room. Dean’s scattered clothes and the closed restroom door indicated where Dean had disappeared too. Sam sighed, rubbed a hand over his eyes and laid down on the second bed. He just had to make sure he didn’t fall asleep and get them through this hunt in one piece.
A few hours later Sam woke up on the bed. He blinked blearily at the back of a post it note attached to his forehead and sat up straight. The tall man snatched the note from his head and glared at the message, in Dean’s messy scrawl; Back in a few hours, Princess, call me when you wake up from your beauty sleep.
“Really, Dean.” He rubbed a calloused hand across his face. “Fuckin Dean.” He stood up and grabbed his jacket, leaving the motel room and calling Dean.
“Sammy, wondered when you would wake up. I’m in the north side of town, where all the woods are.” Dean’s baritone was low which made Sam suspicious but he held his worries at bay for now. Dean knew how to take care of himself.
“Jerk, you should have woken me up, what are you doing by yourself?” He rubbed a hand against his nose and tried not to flare them in what Dean would call his ‘bitch face’.
“Because you needed sleep, man, I can’t have you messing up a hunt just because you’re not sleeping.” Dean’s voice rose a little but quieted after his initial words, and Sam could hear a shuffling through the phone. “Get your ass over here, okay? Most of the stuff I found in the library had to do with old religions. I couldn’t find anything about any creature reports, just missing. It sounds like they took a few things out of the papers.” The call disconnected.
“Fuckin Dean.” Sam huffed, drawing the warm fur of the jacket closer to his body. He was in the middle of a town and needed to go to the northern side on foot. He was giving Dean hell for this, just later. It only took him a walk, and twenty minutes of searching, to find the copse of trees Dean had driven to. He blamed the fact that it was the middle of the night, but he was glad Dean wouldn’t time him like he did when they were younger. The younger brother wasn’t sure he could handle the raucous laughter from his older brother for getting lost in a small town. After snooping through the area he found the Impala hidden behind some brush.
It took him only a few more minutes to hear the voices in the woods and track them to a clearing. It was a small meeting of the folk in town; he even recognized a few of them from the street when he had been looking through the Impala’s window. The group was in a half circle around a raised stone altar with a burning cow on the top. The animal’s cries were muffled by its cut throat.
“Sammy.”
Sam almost, almost, yelped and turned towards his right, his hand already on the knife hidden in his belt. He blinked at Dean’s emerald eyes, the only part of his brother he could see clearly in the dim firelight. “Dean, what the fuck?” He hissed, and edged towards his brother’s hiding spot in the shadows.
“It’s some kind of sacrifice.” Dean pointed a knife, which Sam hadn’t seen on him before, towards the cow. “I think it’s for some Deity, if I got it right it should be a Deity of fertility, and the only ones in the library were Greek God’s.” He frowned at the burning animal and the group of villagers. “I just don’t know which Deity it is, there’s like four that have a link to fertility, or motherhood.” He glanced wearily at the altar. “I say if we let out a gunshot they’ll probably scatter like sheep if they think someone’s on to them. Then we just have to knock down the altar and…” He shrugged.
Sam frowned, “You didn’t search how to kill them.” He glared at his brother.
“Well it’s not like there’s a guide on how to kill Greek Gods.” The shorter man hissed back at his brother. He raised his sawed off shotgun. “I figure something must kill them, I just…don’t know what.”
“Worst…plan…ever…Dean.” Sam glanced at the gun. “We are not doing this, we are going back and--”
Dean shot the gun and the echoing bang made the people around the clearing jump and scramble around. The next shot sent them scurrying back into the woods, probably towards their individual cars or houses. “That’s how it’s done.” He grinned at Sam and jogged up to the stone altar. His nose wrinkled when he grew closer.
Sam gaped at Dean, “What was that?” He jogged and reached the altar just a second after Dean.
“I figure if we break the altar it might as well stop the Goddess for a while, you know?” He ignored Sam’s question and pushed against the altar. The stone rocked for a moment before settling in its place. The cow tilted to the side, the flames licking the edges of the altar. Its eyes sunken and blood dripped down the altar.
Sam winced, “What about the fire that the dead cow will start?” His nostrils flared and he swore he could hear Dean mutter about ‘bitch faces’, which he did not have on right now. It wasn’t his fault that his brother didn’t plan lately or at all sometimes before going through hunts.
“Er, right.” Dean stopped his constant pushing against the altar. The cow barely a few centimeters from touching the ground but the altar still stood, if a little crooked. “We could…go get water?”
The hazel-eyed man stared at his brother for a moment.
Dean blushed crimson, “What? It’s not like I knew they would have a burning carcass out here!” He bit his bottom lip and glanced at the cow. “I know! You take off that jacket, I push the cow off the altar, and you put it over the flames. It’ll stop the fire and then we can focus on breaking the altar with bullets or something.”
His eyes narrowed, “I am not ruining my jacket in the middle of December for your one second plan. Really, Dean, you should have woken me up before you decided on this plan.” He paused then, a chill running across his spine at the sudden expression on Dean’s face. “What Dean?” He turned around and startled, a beautiful woman stood behind him, with almond eyes and a perfect body that was only hidden by a gown of pure white. He gasped, the allure from the woman wrapped around him as if physical and he felt his body demand to move closer to her.
“Where is my sacrifice?” The woman raised her chin at the two brothers, her eyes narrowed in contempt. “Where are my worshippers who begged me to come every year? I, Aphrodite, should have more than two men to greet me, and this,” She gestured a slender hand towards the crooked altar, “It’s intolerable.” The ghostly impression of Aphrodite frowned at the two. “I should not have expected better, a curse on you miserable men.” She spat at them, the droplets glistening and hitting Sam squarely in the eyes. The Goddess twisted away from them, a shimmer of skin and she disappeared, the cow gone and flames sparking on a broken altar.
Sam rubbed at his eyes. “Fuck, what the fuck just happened?” He hissed and blinked at the sudden spots in his eyes. He glanced at Dean and winced away, as if physically struck. The tall man pressed two suddenly sweaty palms against his knees, digging in painfully.
“Sam? Sammy stay with me.” Dean held Sam’s face in warm, hot, hands.
He sputtered, moving away, “To hot.” He fell backwards and closed his eyes against the cold grass. Dean’s hand grabbed for him once again but he was drifting away before he could tell Dean to stop touching his skin.
TBC
~Fallingemerald
Author: fallingemerald
Fandom: Supernatural
Rating: PG-13
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Sam/Lucifer, Dean, Aphrodite, Minor Characters
Warning(s): Bonding, Dream Molestation, Dub-con
Spoiler(s): Bits and Pieces of Five and Four, though not much.
Word Count: 3403
Beta Reader: None,though I tried to clean it up by myself as well as I could.
Rants: Okay so, Sephie wanted some Sam/Luci love, and I got this out, I'm not sure if I did Lucifer justice (I mean he was in about five episodes--hard to get his character in just that many.) (Haha, Lucifer...Justice, the irony.) But I think it's pretty okay. The Aphrodite bit is a bit of lore from Chthonic and bastardized to suit my needs. Basically Aphrodite is just an impression of her true self, think an Avatar but with limited prowess and mind. So, that's pretty much it, I'll probably have the second (Which should be the final) part up sooner or later...
Summary: Lucifer is trying to get to Sam, Sam just has to stay awake a little longer. It can't be that bad right?
Disclaimer: I do not own Spn, seriously...And I wouldn't really want to either, how much work do you think Krikpe has to do that's spn related in a day? Yeah, not for me.
Sam's Bond
Sam wasn’t a normal man, never had been, or at least he doubted it. This was just another weird part of his life and he wasn’t sure how to feel about it.
Lucifer stood before him in his vessel that looked slightly burnt. He was speaking; his voice was silky smooth as ever, and full of lies. “Sam, why don’t you just give in?”
Sam snorted, and rolled his eyes. “Maybe, because I’m not an idiot?” He glared at Nick’s body and moved through the park like mindscape, away from the man, wishing he’d just wake up but he didn’t; like every other time. He felt Lucifer slide behind him and he froze. He doubted Lucifer would hurt him, or at least physically any other way seemed to be open hunting season.
“Oh, but you aren’t Sam, when have I ever called you one?” Lucifer pressed a gentle hand against Sam’s face and turned his face towards Lucifer’s. “I would never insult you.” He grinned and pressed his forehead against Sam.
Sam twitched and moved away. “Don’t touch me.” He shivered; the fallen angel didn’t seem to understand personal space. Lucifer would lean into Sam or touch him, caress him, and Sam was sure he only did it get these reactions.
“Oh, Sam, I don’t know why you are so…” Lucifer paused, and licked his lips, “So, distant, I’ll be much more than touching your body once you say yes.”
Sam glared at the devil; did he have to say it that way? He was sure that he should feel a slight nausea, but this argument was so run through that Sam felt nothing except annoyance. “I’m not here for your amusement, get out of my head.” He fumed, he was supposed to be resting after such a long day; Dean had snapped at him so much today. He was ready to leave his brother for a week, minimum, just to get some peace, and Lucifer always visited in his dreams, which did not help.
“I can make it all better you know,” Lucifer shifted closer to Sam once again, and pressed into his side. “The fights with your brother, you don’t even have to listen to him anymore, I mean you’re with me. All that really matters is him, him all safe, isn’t it? To you, Sam, I know it is.” Lucifer leaned forward and held Sam’s head closer to his lips, “I can give you freedom from all of this, and you just have to let me in. All I need is a few months at most, and then you’ll be back with your brother, safe. Don’t you want that? Your brother and you, I might even add a house after I fix the world, I mean…”
Sam glanced down at Lucifer’s face and felt a momentary flutter of want. It was short lived but he knew Lucifer was getting to him. He wanted Dean to be safe, wanted Dean to not hurt anymore, because he knew Dean wasn’t going to survive this war well, if at all. He winced and would have pulled away but Lucifer’s grip on his neck was tight. His lips formed a thin smile, as if he sensed Sam’s desire.
“Sam, Sammy.” Lucifer stared at Sam’s eyes, pressing his body flush against Sam’s.
Sam froze, this wasn’t the first time Lucifer had ever been this close, but it was the first time they had been this intimate and he didn’t know what happened, just that he froze.
Lucifer pressed his lips gently at first to Sam’s. His right hand slide across the other man’s chest, towards his waist and his left continued to grip Sam’s neck. “Sammy, let me in.” He kissed the taller man again.
Sam gasped, tried to push Lucifer away but couldn’t. His body still didn’t cooperate but he could move his head away, at least from the kiss. “Don’t, what the fuck?” He cursed, and spat. His breath heavy, he didn’t know why he suddenly felt so hot, and he would be damn if a man and especially Lucifer even made him want this, sexual contact.
“I’m just letting you know I’m here, here for you. ” Lucifer bit his own lip, not letting go, just not kissing either. His smile was still there, thin, and his eyes narrowed, a knowing look of contempt.
“I don’t need you!” He growled, Sam didn’t need this bullshit, didn’t need these lies. He wished for a moment that he could kill Lucifer here and now. The few times he had actually somehow took control of the mindscape of course didn’t work; he just reappeared the next day and would work harder to break Sam.
Lucifer glared at Sam, pressed his fingers across Sam’s cheek, and disappeared.
Sam woke up panting for breath. He scanned the room, his hazel eyes pausing over his brother’s form in the other bed.
Safe.
Sam shivered, ignored the echo of his voice in his head, and uncurled from his fetal position on top of the bed, and stood. “Not going to win.” He muttered, wished that Lucifer wasn’t getting to him, but he was, and it was tempting. “Fuck.” Sam rubbed a hand over his face, shook his head, and walked to the bathroom. He locked the door, washed his face and frowned at the reflection. The tall hunter had long shadows around his eyes, and he could tell he needed more sleep. He doubted he was getting anymore sleep tonight, though. He wasn’t sure if it was Lucifer who messed with his body and mind or his fear that Lucifer would return but he never got any shut-eye after the devil was in his head. He shook his head, dried his hands and face, and left the restroom. He glanced down at the bed and laid down. It was worth a shot, even if the man knew it wasn’t going to do any good.
Sam got coffee in the morning. It was around seven, he was actually thankful that a coffee shop was open in this small town. He sipped the pure black coffee in his right hand, normally he’d have a latte, especially when he was in a mood, but today he just needed the caffeine. “Damn Lucifer.” He mumbled into his coffee and ignored a nearby woman who stared at him. Maybe if she had a devil in her head she’d understand. He grouched, pulled his jacket closer to his body and continued walking.
The motel room was a tad warmer than outside but Sam kept the jacket on. He placed the other cup of coffee near Dean and rested against the other motel bed. A newspaper he’d taken from the coffee stand was open and practically demolished with his red sharpie, and his laptop open across his lap, by the time Dean had woken up and drank his coffee. Sam barely had the attention span to listen to Dean bitch about the coffee being cold.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Dean grumbled, slipped into a pair of jeans that looked clean, and two shirts.
The younger man twitched, “Nothing’s wrong with me Dean, just get packed, I found a new hunt, and you said you were tired of this town yesterday.” He refused to tell Dean that he had Lucifer in his dreams; he’d lived this long without his brother knowing, and hell maybe Dean was getting accosted by Micheal. He wondered if giggling at the thought of an Angel of the Lord flirting with their vessel meant he needed more sleep. He looked up. Dean was looking at him in that way that Sam knew meant he wanted to actually talk so he busied himself with putting away his own stuff.
Dean didn’t speak, just shuffled over to the bed and tried to pretend that he wasn’t pulling out a knife from under the pillows.
The two were in the car by half past nine. Sam turned in the key to the motel lobby, muttered about ungrateful brothers and dosing their coffee with laxatives, and left the lobby quickly.
Sam relaxed in the car, dosing off and on every five minutes, mostly just trying to keep himself from falling into a deep enough sleep that Lucifer could get into his head. The short amount of sleep was probably not very helpful mentally but he thought it would get him through the day unlike the caffeine, which had faded an hour on the road. He ignored Dean’s short jerky motions towards his side of the car; he knew his brother was suspicious about his constant need for sleep. He doesn’t have the devil in his head. Sam bitched mentally. He somehow refrained from saying it aloud though; he could just imagine how that would go. Him letting it slip that Lucifer was in his head, it would be great.
Three hours later the two stopped at a station and dinner on the road. It was run-down, almost falling apart at the seams but they slipped in, and sat down quietly. At least, Sam sat down quietly; Dean was loudly proclaiming the glories of pie when he saw all the flavors of pie they served here. If Sam didn’t know better he’d say this was Dean’s heaven. They ordered two coffees, a salad for Sam, and burger and fries for Dean (“With an extra helping of pie, miss” He winked).
The waitress smiled, winked at Dean, and swayed away. She brought back two cups and set down both with several small cream packets.
Sam glared at Dean when he poured several sugars into Sam’s Coffee.
“What?” Dean widened his green-eyes at Sam, “You’re terrible when you don’t have your coffee with some type of sugar. I mean seriously, you were so angry this morning that I had to stop myself from calling you a pmsing girl.”
Sam glared, and glanced down at his coffee. He should be angry at his brother, but part of him did want to taste coffee that wasn’t black. He didn’t care what Dean thought of his latte fixation, sugar and milk coffee tasted better than pure black. He held his glare on Dean and finally only took the drink once his brother was thoroughly distracted by the returned waitress. He opened a few of the cream packets and poured them in, stirred quickly and gulped it down. Ah, finally. He missed his latte.
Dean was grinning at him when he turned back to his food, after flirting with the waitress even more, and smirked at the empty packets of milk. “I told you.” He took a sip of his black coffee and started eating.
Sam would have glared but his coffee made him feel good, and who the fuck cared, it’s not like his brother bothered him more than Lucifer; lately anyway. He gave a half-hearted stare before he worked on his salad.
The bill was paid, which had a discount that Sam was sure was thanks to Dean’s smile and wink. He was forgetting about when Dean disappeared into the restroom for twenty minutes while he sipped his refilled coffee.
Their final stop was close to Colorado, the northern border of New Mexico; the small town of about one thousand residents. Sam made Dean get a motel room before looking through his research. There had been a few disappearances of live humans and livestock, though more animals then humans, and the strange annual occurrences had drawn Sam’s eye. He flipped open his laptop and booted it up.
Dean knocked on the car window, gesturing at the now open motel room. He moved to the trunk, pulled out his bag and entered the room.
Sam rolled his eyes and closed the laptop lid and grabbed his duffel from the back. He made sure the Impala was locked, the last time he’d left the trunk open just for a second Dean had yelled at him for five minutes. He sometimes had to wonder if he had to compete for Dean’s love with a bloody car. The hazel-eyed man patted his laptop and walked inside the motel room. Dean’s scattered clothes and the closed restroom door indicated where Dean had disappeared too. Sam sighed, rubbed a hand over his eyes and laid down on the second bed. He just had to make sure he didn’t fall asleep and get them through this hunt in one piece.
A few hours later Sam woke up on the bed. He blinked blearily at the back of a post it note attached to his forehead and sat up straight. The tall man snatched the note from his head and glared at the message, in Dean’s messy scrawl; Back in a few hours, Princess, call me when you wake up from your beauty sleep.
“Really, Dean.” He rubbed a calloused hand across his face. “Fuckin Dean.” He stood up and grabbed his jacket, leaving the motel room and calling Dean.
“Sammy, wondered when you would wake up. I’m in the north side of town, where all the woods are.” Dean’s baritone was low which made Sam suspicious but he held his worries at bay for now. Dean knew how to take care of himself.
“Jerk, you should have woken me up, what are you doing by yourself?” He rubbed a hand against his nose and tried not to flare them in what Dean would call his ‘bitch face’.
“Because you needed sleep, man, I can’t have you messing up a hunt just because you’re not sleeping.” Dean’s voice rose a little but quieted after his initial words, and Sam could hear a shuffling through the phone. “Get your ass over here, okay? Most of the stuff I found in the library had to do with old religions. I couldn’t find anything about any creature reports, just missing. It sounds like they took a few things out of the papers.” The call disconnected.
“Fuckin Dean.” Sam huffed, drawing the warm fur of the jacket closer to his body. He was in the middle of a town and needed to go to the northern side on foot. He was giving Dean hell for this, just later. It only took him a walk, and twenty minutes of searching, to find the copse of trees Dean had driven to. He blamed the fact that it was the middle of the night, but he was glad Dean wouldn’t time him like he did when they were younger. The younger brother wasn’t sure he could handle the raucous laughter from his older brother for getting lost in a small town. After snooping through the area he found the Impala hidden behind some brush.
It took him only a few more minutes to hear the voices in the woods and track them to a clearing. It was a small meeting of the folk in town; he even recognized a few of them from the street when he had been looking through the Impala’s window. The group was in a half circle around a raised stone altar with a burning cow on the top. The animal’s cries were muffled by its cut throat.
“Sammy.”
Sam almost, almost, yelped and turned towards his right, his hand already on the knife hidden in his belt. He blinked at Dean’s emerald eyes, the only part of his brother he could see clearly in the dim firelight. “Dean, what the fuck?” He hissed, and edged towards his brother’s hiding spot in the shadows.
“It’s some kind of sacrifice.” Dean pointed a knife, which Sam hadn’t seen on him before, towards the cow. “I think it’s for some Deity, if I got it right it should be a Deity of fertility, and the only ones in the library were Greek God’s.” He frowned at the burning animal and the group of villagers. “I just don’t know which Deity it is, there’s like four that have a link to fertility, or motherhood.” He glanced wearily at the altar. “I say if we let out a gunshot they’ll probably scatter like sheep if they think someone’s on to them. Then we just have to knock down the altar and…” He shrugged.
Sam frowned, “You didn’t search how to kill them.” He glared at his brother.
“Well it’s not like there’s a guide on how to kill Greek Gods.” The shorter man hissed back at his brother. He raised his sawed off shotgun. “I figure something must kill them, I just…don’t know what.”
“Worst…plan…ever…Dean.” Sam glanced at the gun. “We are not doing this, we are going back and--”
Dean shot the gun and the echoing bang made the people around the clearing jump and scramble around. The next shot sent them scurrying back into the woods, probably towards their individual cars or houses. “That’s how it’s done.” He grinned at Sam and jogged up to the stone altar. His nose wrinkled when he grew closer.
Sam gaped at Dean, “What was that?” He jogged and reached the altar just a second after Dean.
“I figure if we break the altar it might as well stop the Goddess for a while, you know?” He ignored Sam’s question and pushed against the altar. The stone rocked for a moment before settling in its place. The cow tilted to the side, the flames licking the edges of the altar. Its eyes sunken and blood dripped down the altar.
Sam winced, “What about the fire that the dead cow will start?” His nostrils flared and he swore he could hear Dean mutter about ‘bitch faces’, which he did not have on right now. It wasn’t his fault that his brother didn’t plan lately or at all sometimes before going through hunts.
“Er, right.” Dean stopped his constant pushing against the altar. The cow barely a few centimeters from touching the ground but the altar still stood, if a little crooked. “We could…go get water?”
The hazel-eyed man stared at his brother for a moment.
Dean blushed crimson, “What? It’s not like I knew they would have a burning carcass out here!” He bit his bottom lip and glanced at the cow. “I know! You take off that jacket, I push the cow off the altar, and you put it over the flames. It’ll stop the fire and then we can focus on breaking the altar with bullets or something.”
His eyes narrowed, “I am not ruining my jacket in the middle of December for your one second plan. Really, Dean, you should have woken me up before you decided on this plan.” He paused then, a chill running across his spine at the sudden expression on Dean’s face. “What Dean?” He turned around and startled, a beautiful woman stood behind him, with almond eyes and a perfect body that was only hidden by a gown of pure white. He gasped, the allure from the woman wrapped around him as if physical and he felt his body demand to move closer to her.
“Where is my sacrifice?” The woman raised her chin at the two brothers, her eyes narrowed in contempt. “Where are my worshippers who begged me to come every year? I, Aphrodite, should have more than two men to greet me, and this,” She gestured a slender hand towards the crooked altar, “It’s intolerable.” The ghostly impression of Aphrodite frowned at the two. “I should not have expected better, a curse on you miserable men.” She spat at them, the droplets glistening and hitting Sam squarely in the eyes. The Goddess twisted away from them, a shimmer of skin and she disappeared, the cow gone and flames sparking on a broken altar.
Sam rubbed at his eyes. “Fuck, what the fuck just happened?” He hissed and blinked at the sudden spots in his eyes. He glanced at Dean and winced away, as if physically struck. The tall man pressed two suddenly sweaty palms against his knees, digging in painfully.
“Sam? Sammy stay with me.” Dean held Sam’s face in warm, hot, hands.
He sputtered, moving away, “To hot.” He fell backwards and closed his eyes against the cold grass. Dean’s hand grabbed for him once again but he was drifting away before he could tell Dean to stop touching his skin.
TBC
~Fallingemerald