Your Boy, Remix
Title: Your Boy (Remix)
Author: hanyou-elf
Characters: Dean, Sam, and some John
Genre/pairing: Hurt/comfort, gen, no pairing.
Rating: PG-13, for content
Word-count: ~1600
Spoilers: None, pre-series
Warnings: Non-con molesting, and it's after effects. Remix.
Original story: rainylemons.livejournal.com/807.html
Summary: Sammy deals with the consequences of having a pretty brother. The original story needs to be read, for this story to make sense! And because it's absolutely amazing!
Disclaimer: i don't own Supernatural or any of the characters therein. i make no money from this fanwork.
They were going to rape Dean. He was naked and he was unable to fight back and he was all slicked up. Those men were going to rape Dean. They were going to take from his brother the one thing that he couldn't afford.
He saw red.
Dad moved and Sam moved with him. They went for two different men, working in unison. His fists moved of his own accord, swinging controlled and powerful. The red intensified and he saw murder, and the gun was in his hand, without his permission, and he brought it down on the side of the man's face.
Blood flew, he spit blood and crumpled to his knees and Sam refused to give this man the satisfaction. He brought the pistol up and shoved it into the man's mouth. Cold, calculated rage poured over him and he was pleased to know that if he wanted to, he could. The man shrieked, cowardice and fear evident in his wide eyes.
"Sammy!"
Sam sighed and blinked his eyes shut as he relaxed his finger on the trigger. Cold ran down his spine, and he narrowed his eyes at the man, bleeding on the tip of Dean's gun. This man who was going to rape his brother was bleeding on Dean's gun.
"Why not?" he asked angrily. Why couldn't he kill this man who was going to rape his brother? Why couldn't he stop this man who had raped countless helpless men before his brother?
"Because, we're the good guys Sammy, and we don't kill people. We just don't. We're no better than the crap we hunt if we do."
Damnit! Sammy glared at the man, letting his yellow bellied ass see just how serious he was about pulling the trigger before he pulled Dean's gun free. He let his mind fill in the very gory ending he would have preferred for this bastard, and aimed a kick at the man's temple. He was filled with satisfaction at the solid "thunk" that echoed in the otherwise quiet room. He crumpled bonelessly, and Sam lifted his foot to bring it down on his shoulders, but caught himself.
The bastard, sick as he was, could no longer defend himself. And he was a good guy. Damnit.
He let his eyes swing to Dean and couldn't stop the cry that escaped. Dean. Dad held Dean, freed him from his limp and naked waiting for the men who would rape him. He slowly moved around the room, picking up Dean's clothing, not wanting to see the fact that Dean was naked and so wet. "Is he.... Did they..."
He couldn't bring himself to say it. And he couldn't stop the tears that started flowing in his eyes.
As Dad pulled Dean's shirt over his head, he answered in the most emotional voice he'd ever heard his father ever using, "I don't know, Sammy."
Sam only nodded and moved to pull Dean's jeans most of the way up his brother's legs. Dad would catch them and pull them up Dean's hips. He moved to putting on Dean's socks, because his brother needed to be dressed. He needed his brother to be okay.
Dean flopped around, and his eyes rolled and his head fell back and he groaned, "S'happenin'? Don't feel right, I don't feel right, Dad. Dad? What's happenin'?"
Sam couldn't stop the quiet sob that escaped. He buried his face in his forearms and wrists, holding Dean's sock in both hands, up to his forehead like a talisman. He shook with the effort of not screaming. He had to keep his composure, because they were working, they were not safe in their motel. But there was nothing he could do.
"Nothing," John answered.
And Sam rocked himself slowly, sobbing into his arms.
-.-.-.-
Sam couldn't watch the vampires, prowling hungrily along the room's perimeter. They licked their lips, their teeth extended. It was terrifying, and intimidating. This was never the way Sam thought he'd meet his first vampire. He didn't look too long at any of them, focused instead on the men he and his father had brought to the lair.
He couldn't hear over the rushing of blood in his ears. He refused to look at the vampires as they moved closer, seeking the fresh blood that flowed freely. Sam didn't want to be here with that, but he couldn't leave either. He needed to be here, for Dean. For his own resolution. He needed to have this completion.
"They won't be missed," Dad said firmly, his voice polite, but leaving room for no arguments. "We're leaving tomorrow. My hunt is over."
Sam watched as the closest vampire pulled the man from Dad's arms, and embraced him, almost lovingly, before sinking his teeth in his neck. He closed his eyes when another vampire joined the first, kneeling to lick a long swath up the bastard's bleeding arm.
He didn't open them again until Dad had led him from the nest.
-.-.-.-
Sam slid into Dean's bed. He'd woken up on the verge of screaming and had needed to have Dean. He needed to reassure himself that Dean was still there. That he hadn't been molested, almost raped. And he had to have the bubble that Dean exuded, no matter where he was, that would allow Sam to help propagate the lie.
He curled up close to his brother, his long legs tucked in close as he watched Dean sleeping on the edge of the hotel's bed. He looked ready to wake, ready to take action, but Sam knew better. The doctor had warned that Dean would be drowsy, but cognitive. There would be no psychological damage, unless they told him what had happened.
And Sam didn't want to. He didn't want to see the betrayal he knew would be in Dean's eyes when he found out that Sam had let him just leave with the two men. That he'd let Dean get roofied. He didn't try hard enough to find Dean, and it was his fault they almost...
He clenched his eyes shut against the truth, refusing to believe it. He shivered and straightened himself out so he could slide closer in the bed, into Dean's monumental heat. If a hand happened to wrap around Dean's forearm, it was coincidental. If he wanted to sleep though, he needed it. He had to either watch Dean, or touch him.
"Chill out, Samantha," Dean slurred. "Us men're tryin'ta sleep."
"Sorry," Sam whispered in response.
He shifted, intent on leaving, so Dean could get the rest he needed, that the doctor had ordered that he get. But Dean stopped him with a hand on his arm. His eyes blinked open blearily, and he scrunched his face up. "What t'fuck?"
"Nothing," Sam answered. "Just... sleep?"
"S'fuckin' emotional," Dean grunted. He rolled over closer to his brother and tightened his hand on Sam's arm.
"It's okay," Sam answered. He laid back down in the bed, and closed his eyes. Dean, even drugged, was incredibly perceptive when it came to Sam, and he couldn't let Dean see how much he hurt. And he couldn't let Dean see how terrified he was about what had happened, what had almost happened.
"Go to sleep," Dean ordered softly. His voice barely above a whisper. His hand slid down to Sam's, and loosely gripped as he drifted back off.
-.-.-.-
Sam was guilty. He'd let his brother get attacked. He'd let his brother walk into a trap and get attacked. He'd let his brother get hurt.
Dean was being released. He hadn't had any of the serious side effects the doctor had been concerned about. Dean had thrown up twice during the night, but the doctor reassured them that it was normal, a common side effect. And both times Dean had knelt on the floor, worshiping at the throne of the porcelain goddess, Sam felt like his heart was being torn out too.
"Don't remember why I'm here," Dean grunted as he slid into the passenger's seat in the Impala. "What happened?"
"There was a fight, son. You were roofied at the bar. Fought them off long enough for me and Sam to get to you," Dad answered. He
"Sonuva bitch," Dean growled. "Did you get their names? I'd like to repay them for the drink."
"We took care of it," Dad answered.
-.-.-.-
Sam groaned as he rolled into the center of his bed, his arms thrown over his eyes. Dean was tired of Sam around all the time. And Sam couldn't stand to have Dean out of his sight. They were driving each other crazy. And it wouldn't be long before they were driven to a fight.
Sam wanted to leave. But he was afraid of what would happen if he left. Would Dean get attacked again?
Probably not, Dean wouldn't do anything reckless if he were alone. Sam gave his brother the illusion of safety, and Sam couldn't do that to Dean anymore. So he decided, with his arms tight around his head, that he had to leave. He had to leave Dean, to protect him. Hopefully, his big brother would understand.
He'd had a hard time being around Dean for the month since it had last happened. He didn't know if he would be able to last much longer. At this school, they'd been talking about college. Maybe it was time for Sam to make the plans that he needed to make to get away from his father.
Away from his brother.
Away from the truth, because Dean could never know.
Keeping the secret was hard on Sam and Dad. Both of them at wit's end trying to protect Dean without being overbearing. Trying to protect themselves without telling Dean what had happened. The best thing that could happen would be one of them leaving. And Dean would never make the decision between Dad with himself. At least, not without the guilt that it would lay on him.
So Sam would have to leave. To save Dean the guilt.
And, selfishly, to save his own sanity.
Author: hanyou-elf
Characters: Dean, Sam, and some John
Genre/pairing: Hurt/comfort, gen, no pairing.
Rating: PG-13, for content
Word-count: ~1600
Spoilers: None, pre-series
Warnings: Non-con molesting, and it's after effects. Remix.
Original story: rainylemons.livejournal.com/807.html
Summary: Sammy deals with the consequences of having a pretty brother. The original story needs to be read, for this story to make sense! And because it's absolutely amazing!
Disclaimer: i don't own Supernatural or any of the characters therein. i make no money from this fanwork.
They were going to rape Dean. He was naked and he was unable to fight back and he was all slicked up. Those men were going to rape Dean. They were going to take from his brother the one thing that he couldn't afford.
He saw red.
Dad moved and Sam moved with him. They went for two different men, working in unison. His fists moved of his own accord, swinging controlled and powerful. The red intensified and he saw murder, and the gun was in his hand, without his permission, and he brought it down on the side of the man's face.
Blood flew, he spit blood and crumpled to his knees and Sam refused to give this man the satisfaction. He brought the pistol up and shoved it into the man's mouth. Cold, calculated rage poured over him and he was pleased to know that if he wanted to, he could. The man shrieked, cowardice and fear evident in his wide eyes.
"Sammy!"
Sam sighed and blinked his eyes shut as he relaxed his finger on the trigger. Cold ran down his spine, and he narrowed his eyes at the man, bleeding on the tip of Dean's gun. This man who was going to rape his brother was bleeding on Dean's gun.
"Why not?" he asked angrily. Why couldn't he kill this man who was going to rape his brother? Why couldn't he stop this man who had raped countless helpless men before his brother?
"Because, we're the good guys Sammy, and we don't kill people. We just don't. We're no better than the crap we hunt if we do."
Damnit! Sammy glared at the man, letting his yellow bellied ass see just how serious he was about pulling the trigger before he pulled Dean's gun free. He let his mind fill in the very gory ending he would have preferred for this bastard, and aimed a kick at the man's temple. He was filled with satisfaction at the solid "thunk" that echoed in the otherwise quiet room. He crumpled bonelessly, and Sam lifted his foot to bring it down on his shoulders, but caught himself.
The bastard, sick as he was, could no longer defend himself. And he was a good guy. Damnit.
He let his eyes swing to Dean and couldn't stop the cry that escaped. Dean. Dad held Dean, freed him from his limp and naked waiting for the men who would rape him. He slowly moved around the room, picking up Dean's clothing, not wanting to see the fact that Dean was naked and so wet. "Is he.... Did they..."
He couldn't bring himself to say it. And he couldn't stop the tears that started flowing in his eyes.
As Dad pulled Dean's shirt over his head, he answered in the most emotional voice he'd ever heard his father ever using, "I don't know, Sammy."
Sam only nodded and moved to pull Dean's jeans most of the way up his brother's legs. Dad would catch them and pull them up Dean's hips. He moved to putting on Dean's socks, because his brother needed to be dressed. He needed his brother to be okay.
Dean flopped around, and his eyes rolled and his head fell back and he groaned, "S'happenin'? Don't feel right, I don't feel right, Dad. Dad? What's happenin'?"
Sam couldn't stop the quiet sob that escaped. He buried his face in his forearms and wrists, holding Dean's sock in both hands, up to his forehead like a talisman. He shook with the effort of not screaming. He had to keep his composure, because they were working, they were not safe in their motel. But there was nothing he could do.
"Nothing," John answered.
And Sam rocked himself slowly, sobbing into his arms.
-.-.-.-
Sam couldn't watch the vampires, prowling hungrily along the room's perimeter. They licked their lips, their teeth extended. It was terrifying, and intimidating. This was never the way Sam thought he'd meet his first vampire. He didn't look too long at any of them, focused instead on the men he and his father had brought to the lair.
He couldn't hear over the rushing of blood in his ears. He refused to look at the vampires as they moved closer, seeking the fresh blood that flowed freely. Sam didn't want to be here with that, but he couldn't leave either. He needed to be here, for Dean. For his own resolution. He needed to have this completion.
"They won't be missed," Dad said firmly, his voice polite, but leaving room for no arguments. "We're leaving tomorrow. My hunt is over."
Sam watched as the closest vampire pulled the man from Dad's arms, and embraced him, almost lovingly, before sinking his teeth in his neck. He closed his eyes when another vampire joined the first, kneeling to lick a long swath up the bastard's bleeding arm.
He didn't open them again until Dad had led him from the nest.
-.-.-.-
Sam slid into Dean's bed. He'd woken up on the verge of screaming and had needed to have Dean. He needed to reassure himself that Dean was still there. That he hadn't been molested, almost raped. And he had to have the bubble that Dean exuded, no matter where he was, that would allow Sam to help propagate the lie.
He curled up close to his brother, his long legs tucked in close as he watched Dean sleeping on the edge of the hotel's bed. He looked ready to wake, ready to take action, but Sam knew better. The doctor had warned that Dean would be drowsy, but cognitive. There would be no psychological damage, unless they told him what had happened.
And Sam didn't want to. He didn't want to see the betrayal he knew would be in Dean's eyes when he found out that Sam had let him just leave with the two men. That he'd let Dean get roofied. He didn't try hard enough to find Dean, and it was his fault they almost...
He clenched his eyes shut against the truth, refusing to believe it. He shivered and straightened himself out so he could slide closer in the bed, into Dean's monumental heat. If a hand happened to wrap around Dean's forearm, it was coincidental. If he wanted to sleep though, he needed it. He had to either watch Dean, or touch him.
"Chill out, Samantha," Dean slurred. "Us men're tryin'ta sleep."
"Sorry," Sam whispered in response.
He shifted, intent on leaving, so Dean could get the rest he needed, that the doctor had ordered that he get. But Dean stopped him with a hand on his arm. His eyes blinked open blearily, and he scrunched his face up. "What t'fuck?"
"Nothing," Sam answered. "Just... sleep?"
"S'fuckin' emotional," Dean grunted. He rolled over closer to his brother and tightened his hand on Sam's arm.
"It's okay," Sam answered. He laid back down in the bed, and closed his eyes. Dean, even drugged, was incredibly perceptive when it came to Sam, and he couldn't let Dean see how much he hurt. And he couldn't let Dean see how terrified he was about what had happened, what had almost happened.
"Go to sleep," Dean ordered softly. His voice barely above a whisper. His hand slid down to Sam's, and loosely gripped as he drifted back off.
-.-.-.-
Sam was guilty. He'd let his brother get attacked. He'd let his brother walk into a trap and get attacked. He'd let his brother get hurt.
Dean was being released. He hadn't had any of the serious side effects the doctor had been concerned about. Dean had thrown up twice during the night, but the doctor reassured them that it was normal, a common side effect. And both times Dean had knelt on the floor, worshiping at the throne of the porcelain goddess, Sam felt like his heart was being torn out too.
"Don't remember why I'm here," Dean grunted as he slid into the passenger's seat in the Impala. "What happened?"
"There was a fight, son. You were roofied at the bar. Fought them off long enough for me and Sam to get to you," Dad answered. He
"Sonuva bitch," Dean growled. "Did you get their names? I'd like to repay them for the drink."
"We took care of it," Dad answered.
-.-.-.-
Sam groaned as he rolled into the center of his bed, his arms thrown over his eyes. Dean was tired of Sam around all the time. And Sam couldn't stand to have Dean out of his sight. They were driving each other crazy. And it wouldn't be long before they were driven to a fight.
Sam wanted to leave. But he was afraid of what would happen if he left. Would Dean get attacked again?
Probably not, Dean wouldn't do anything reckless if he were alone. Sam gave his brother the illusion of safety, and Sam couldn't do that to Dean anymore. So he decided, with his arms tight around his head, that he had to leave. He had to leave Dean, to protect him. Hopefully, his big brother would understand.
He'd had a hard time being around Dean for the month since it had last happened. He didn't know if he would be able to last much longer. At this school, they'd been talking about college. Maybe it was time for Sam to make the plans that he needed to make to get away from his father.
Away from his brother.
Away from the truth, because Dean could never know.
Keeping the secret was hard on Sam and Dad. Both of them at wit's end trying to protect Dean without being overbearing. Trying to protect themselves without telling Dean what had happened. The best thing that could happen would be one of them leaving. And Dean would never make the decision between Dad with himself. At least, not without the guilt that it would lay on him.
So Sam would have to leave. To save Dean the guilt.
And, selfishly, to save his own sanity.