Requests and Challenges - Earning Human: Part Three
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Title: Earning Human
Author: girlgotagun
Pairing: Dean/Sam
Part Three
~~~
Sam and Dean lived as Pet and Owner for two long years. Eventually, no amount of “It'll be over before you know it, Sammy,” could offer any comfort. Two years was going to be five was going to be ten and then Sam would be ripped from Dean’s grasp and put down. Monthly appointments with Sam’s court-appointed behavior and rehabilitation expert came and went with no sign of progress.
The day that the letter arrived was like any other one that had come and gone so far. It was a bath day, and Dean was spending his morning checking every half hour or so to see if the neighbor’s van was gone, waiting for them to go out for a bit before he started to wash Sam. Sam himself was off somewhere, sleeping or trying to find a private spot to shit or jerking off, hell, Dean didn’t know. He had begun giving Sam his space, the strain of their dynamic wearing on them over the last two years.
He noticed the postal truck down the street as he checked the neighbor’s driveway once more and waited on him to kill time, meeting him at the front door to take the mail before he could slide it through the slot.
He flipped through the stack of envelops. Bill, bill, postcard from Jo, bill, a pink envelope that looked suspiciously like a jury-duty summons-haha no fucking way-bill…and a plain white envelope addressed to him and stamped with the Department of Corrections letterhead in the upper left corner.
He forgot how to breathe as he dropped the rest of the mail, hurriedly tearing open the envelope and scanning the first line of neat typed print. His eyes widened, a weight seeming to leave his chest that had been there so long he didn’t even notice it anymore until suddenly it was gone. And then he was running through the house, yelling for Sam, tossing open every door he came to.
He found Sam laying on the bed, curled up as he tried to nap. His brother raised his head, his face annoyed.
“Sammy-Quick, stand up!”
Sam huffed, annoyance flashing across his face. “Very funny, Dean. Have the neighbors left? Is it time for my bath?”
Dean let out a triumphant whoop. “A fucking shower, Sammy! It’s time for a fucking shower!” He brandished the letter. “Dude, listen-“ he cleared his throat before beginning to read. “Dear Mr. Winchester, this letter is to inform you that pursuant with the latest report and recommendation from your Pet’s behavior and rehabilitation expert, we are terminating his sentence and granting him manumission. Our records indicate that your Pet is currently being homed without relocation. If this is the case no further action is required on your part.” Dean was practically jumping up and down as he waited for his words to land. “It’s over, Sammy!”
Sam looked like he might pass out. “You’re joking.”
Dean frowned. “I wouldn’t joke about this. These last couple of years have been…” He sighed as he shook his head, unable to think of a word strong enough to describe it. His face softened. “I’ve missed you, Sam.” ‘’
Sam sat up slowly, the look on his face suggesting that he could hardly believe it. A grin spread across his face as he reached out to cup Dean’s face, drawing it to his own and pressing their lips softly together, hesitantly. Dean pulled back almost immediately, regretting it as he saw the hurt flicker over his brother’s face.
“No, Sam, it’s not like that.” He shook his head. “Just… Can we get rid of the tail and make you a bit more…human first?”
The smile returned to Sam’s face as he nodded. “Yeah. I want a shower. And I want to go out to eat. I want to sit in a chair. I want to wear clothes.” He stood up, heading for the bathroom, walking upright for the first time in two years. Dean had almost forgotten how tall he was. He turned around and winked at Dean. “And then I want you to take them off of me.” He laughed as he disappeared into the bathroom, shouting through the closed door as he turned on the water in the shower. “And I want to sleep between the sheets. And I want spend tomorrow laying with you on the couch in our pajamas. And I want toss the goddamned food bowl out the window and cut the fucking collar and leash into tiny little pieces. And then I want to throw them on the neighbor’s lawn.”
Dean laughed, falling back onto the bed as he listened to his brother recount all of the-simple, really-things that he wanted to do now that he was human again. He sat up in surprise as the bathroom door opened and the plug came sailing out, the tail trailing behind it almost majestically.
“And I want to burn the fucking tail!”
“Burned silicon, hair, and shit. That’s going to be terrible, Sammy.” Dean laughed as Sam shrugged before shutting the bathroom door again. He considered going in there, joining Sam in the shower and making the best of the tail’s effect. But there was plenty of time for that, and Sam deserved to bathe on his own for once.
~~~
They did all of the things that Sam listed. Well, all except for burning the tail. Dean had finally put his foot down on that one, truly terrified of how terrible the smell would be. He did, however, let his little brother toss it over the neighbor’s fence with the pieces of the collar and leash, as well as the dog bowl. Served them right for watching his brother be humiliated for two years like it was a spectator sport.
When Sam got out of the shower he just stood in front of their closet for a minute, looking overwhelmed by the choices before pulling out a tee shirt and a pair of jeans, his fingers running over the soft-worn fabric gently, as though he couldn’t believe they were real. Dean had let him have his moment, not teasing him in the way that he normally would as Sam nearly broke down crying as he held the clothes and then slowly slipped them on. It broke Dean’s heart how such a simple thing had become so coveted, so sacred to his brother, and once Sam was dressed he beckoned him over to him, wrapping his arms around him and held him as he cried.
He got the feeling Sam wasn’t really crying about the clothes, anyway, but from the sheer relief of what they represented-the end of two long years of humiliation and shame.
He took Sam out to dinner, almost too distracted through the whole thing to eat as he watched Sam nearly vibrate with joy at getting to sit in a chair, eat off of a plate with silverware and a napkin.
Sam had insisted that they walk, hurrying ahead and then hanging back, enjoying not being on a leash, enjoying the sounds of his shoes hitting the pavement. His knees were covered in scars from two years of the harsh pavement scraping them raw as he crawled. Dean tried to hold his hand, but maybe it was too much like the leash because both times that he tried it lasted for maybe two seconds before Sam was slipping his hand free, smiling at Dean as he drifted away, ahead, behind. Anywhere that would have, just that morning, earned him the command to heel.
And through it all it hit Dean how much he had really, truly missed Sammy; missed his brother, his lover. One day they would have to talk about what they had been through, all of the pain and humiliation and the loss. But tonight was for Sammy to enjoy, and for them to rediscover each other.
When they finally made it back home, Dean followed Sam up the stairs, allowing his brother to lead him for once. And this time, when Sam rested his hands on either side of Dean’s face and kissed him softly, Dean returned it, breathing out again how much he’d missed him when they finally parted.
They moved slowly, tasting each other and taking their time in undressing each other before they fell to the bed in a tangle of limbs and scorching skin. And then it became too much, too long, not enough, and their movements became frantic as they touched and tasted.
And when Dean slid home, it was the only time he was ever grateful to that damned plug as Sammy opened for him easily, a low moan of pleasure falling from his little brother’s lips as Dean set a deep, steady rhythm.
They didn’t last long. Neither of them cared. They were too desperate for each other, too in need of the other’s touch. They drank in the deep moans and lust-filled sighs as they hurtled towards completion, shattering together and then slowly piecing each other back together as they lay in the afterglow, wrapped in each other’s arms.
Dean pressed his lips to Sam’s shoulder as his brother fell asleep, hands running through the younger man’s hair, and for the first time since the whole debacle began, he let his own tears fall, his very soul aching with how relieved he was to have his brother back.
They’d have to talk about it one day. They’d have to rip open the scabs and scars and drain the infection so that they could heal.
But tonight, it was just him and Sammy. Finally human. Finally his again.
The End.
I hope you enjoyed it. :)
Special thanks once more to sanshal for the amazing prompt. I hope it was everything you dreamed.
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