Hold On Until Dawn Chapter 2D REPOST
Title: Hold On Until Dawn Chapter 2D REPOST
Author: Insertcode11 with jcrgirl and imogen_lily
Banner: imogen_lily
Pairing: Dean/Sam, OMC/Sam
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Overall: Wincest, AU, bondage, non-con (not the boys), abuse, weecest (Sam is 16) in parts
Word Count: ~ 11,500
Beta: glimmerella
Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue. Just playing in Kripke's sandbox.
When he gets to the duplex, which is probably one of the nicest places Sam’s ever lived in with clean water and working heat and everything, he sees that Dad and Dean are still gone. Dad was probably researching and Dean might have already found a job. Sam sets his bag on the table and sees a yellow post-it on the refrigerator door.
Won’t be back until 5:00, dinner at 5:30. Don’t forget to cook enough for Dad’s friend.
Grill and charcoal out back. Don’t eat all of the steaks until we get there, Gigantor.
Sam rolls his eyes and takes out the steaks to thaw, wondering at how much of their meager money supply went into them and how many canned goods they would have to eat afterwards to make up for it. He notices some fresh corn still in their shucks to grill, too. Setting everything aside he moves into each room to gather the dirty clothes that hadn’t been washed yet and threw them in the washer, thinking how nice it was to have a working washer and dryer in their own place instead of having to go to the Laundromat. With that running he settles down to start his homework. He likes getting lost in the monotony of homework, but he’s usually done with it by the time he gets home from school, having learned long ago that Dad gets impatient if Sam doesn’t put research and training before school work.
At twenty after five neither Dad nor Dean had come home yet. Sam starts the steaks and corn, figuring they would be home by 5:30 because they are going to have a guest. He also puts in some buttered rolls in the oven because both Dad and Dean seemed to have an obsession with having bread with every meal. The temperature is dropping outside but Sam only has a long-sleeved t-shirt on because of the heat of the grill and oven.
Sam hears a knock on the door and realizes with a jolt that it their guest tonight is Coach Schneider who Sam had embarrassed himself in front of by overreacting to a simple touch. Still, Sam can’t shake how Coach Schneider had creeped him out earlier by abruptly moving into Sam’s space and causing him to panic. Except Coach Schneider had had a reasonable explanation, and he’s Sam’s gym coach, Dad’s friend, and Sam’s just a little panicky because this could be it and Dean and Dad are almost half an hour late.
He hurries to the door because he shouldn’t leave the steaks too long (Dean will kill him if they’re anything over medium) and opens the door for his gym coach. “Hey, Coach Schneider, come in.” Sam invites with a nod, moving away as the man steps in, unconsciously keeping a couple of feet between them (no more surprise touches that make Sam jump out of his skin, thanks).
“Hey, Sam. I guess I’m early?” Schneider asks as he takes off his coat. Sam shrugs.
“Yeah, Coach. But they should be here, soon. I gotta get out back and watch the food, but there’s beer in the fridge and chairs out back, so make yourself at home.” Sam says with a smile that’s a little
“Thanks, pretty boy!” Coach Schneider calls at Sam’s back as he exits through the back door. Sam bristles at the name, knowing it has to be a poor choice for a taunt (first of all, it’s a little inappropriate because Sam doesn’t even know this guy, but also because Sam’s not even very attractive in a manly way-too tall and too skinny-much less pretty).
Sam grits his teeth, determining to bear Dad’s socially awkward friends. Besides, the guy got them the duplex which had its own washer and dryer and grill and nice beds. Coach Schneider’s a good guy, just missed his social etiquette classes growing up. Besides, they don’t have many friends outside of the supernatural world, and Dad generally steers clear of other hunters anyway with the few exceptions being Bobby, Pastor Jim, and occasionally Caleb except that it’s been nearly a year since they’ve seen any of them.
Steps at the back door alert him to Schneider’s approach but Sam’s turning steaks and doesn’t really look up. A hand falls on the back of his neck. Dean and Dad do that all the time but it irritates Sam for another person to do it. He rolls his shoulders in a clear sign that he doesn’t want the touch.
“So, Sam, how was your first day? No one gave you trouble?”
“Uhm, no, Sir. No trouble.” He rolls his shoulders again to get the heavy hand off of him and moves to turn the corn.
“How do you like your classes?”
“A lot of the material is repeat from my last school.” Sam answers honestly as he feels his patience wearing thin. Coach Schneider still hasn’t removed his hand, and Sam doesn’t want to be here with this stranger, turning steaks and corn, talking about school when Dad and Dean are half an hour late in a town with a hunt that could be it.
“Saw that you played a good game of basketball today, Sam. You should try out for the team.”
Sam nods absently, vaguely remembering Mason’s freckled and earnest face as he pleaded with Sam to join the team earlier, but it’s 5:25 and Dean and Dad aren’t here and Sam’s about to go ape shit with worry and why couldn’t either of them have the brains to pick up a damn phone? If Sam had been later than he said he would be home both Dad and Dean would already be out combing the town armed to the teeth.
He answers Coach Schneider in a much calmer voice. “I think I would like that, but Dean and Dad need me around here for a while and that’s alright, so I probably wouldn’t have time.” He’s going to ask Dean, maybe Dad, tonight anyway. He knows the answer will be no, but this way he can be honest to Mason and say that he tried.
And though Sam really likes sports-he liked playing for the few soccer teams he’s managed to get on in the past couple of years-he understands that his family needs him home for now. Dad’s hunting and Dean’s working to feed them and the least Sam could do is do some of the housework and cooking like Dean had done for him when he was little. Still, Sam could freely admit to himself this time around that the “no” would sting a bit more than usual.
“That’s too bad, Sam. You’ve got talent.” Coach Schneider’s thumb grazes the nape of his neck, running through the curls there, and Sam’s stomach drops, the touch icy and alien because it’s so familiar but it’s usually Dean that touches him that way, sometimes when Sam’s asleep, or when he’s showing how proud he is of something that Sam does. This touch is wrong, the skin wrong, finger tips digging in the wrong places and it throws Sam off, makes him feel like he’s misplaced.
“Don’t-“ Don’t touch me! Is on the tip of his tongue but he hears something from the front end of the house that cuts him off.
“Sammy!” A voice calls from inside and it’s Dean. It’s Dean and he sounds okay and Sam’s so fucking relieved all thoughts of Coach Schneider fly far and away from his mind. He jerks from the hand on his neck, throws down the tongs on the table, and rushes to the door.
“Out here, jerk!” And, yeah, it’s girly but he can’t keep the trepidation from his voice. He doesn’t know what he expected to happen the first day of the hunt of the thing that was causing fires, but it already feels like his big brother has just returned home victorious and safe from battle.
“You little bitch!” Dean calls merrily from the kitchen and Sam can hear the clink of beer bottles. “Smells good! You get my steak over medium and I’ll skin you!”
Dean’s okay even though there’s something loose out there that’s killing people with fires and Sam laughs, feeling something loosen within his chest. “Stop nagging, I’ve got this.” And so many other things are on the tip of his tongue. Mac, April, flirting, Mason, basketball. When Dean comes out, he slings an arm around Sam and holds him there closer than usual and obviously Dean’s been feeling the tension, worry, and anticipation Sam’s been feeling all day as well.
“Sorry I’m late, geekboy. Got a job today. Or, well, Dad’s friend set me up with a job at the gas station. It’s not as cool as Dad’s job-he’s working for the mechanic-but it’s alright and I saw a couple of hot chicks today so not a total loss, right?” He does sound genuinely forlorn at not being able to work as a mechanic. Dean’s good with cars, loves working with them, and prefers working with his hands.
For the first time Dean looks up and regards Coach Schneider though Dean’s probably been aware of his presence the entire time. “Thanks for that, by the way. Dad wasn’t clear on your name?”
Coach Schneider’s white grin stands out in the twilight. “Nathan Schneider. And it’s no problem. Your Dad’s an old friend of mine, I didn’t want to leave him hanging in a new town.” He says with a bashful shrug.
“He’s my gym coach at school, too.” Sam offers as he goes in the house and turns off the oven and pulls out the pan of bread.
“Well, that’s cool. Too bad you don’t have a family friend teaching a harder class, right?” Dean laughs when Sam comes back out with plates to serve up the steaks and corn. Dean gives him a little push. “Then again, I guess you don’t need any help, geekboy.” And though it sounds like an insult Sam has long ago figured out that it’s thinly veiled boasting and he feels his stupid chest warm with the praise.
Sam rolls his eyes, shouldering Dean as hears his dad’s footsteps within the house.
“How do you and Dad know each other, anyway?” Dean asks and Sam’s kind of interested, too. If Coach Schneider doesn’t know about the supernatural and was at Dad’s wedding and still considered himself a long time friend of Dad’s then he must have known Dad when Dad was really young. Sam can’t imagine Dad as a young boy, much less a young man-as anything other than this rapidly aging hunter that walks around with a sore body and a snarl on his lips most days.
“From the Marines.” Dad’s voice interrupts as he shows up in his flannel layers and a beer in his hand. He approaches Schneider and they exchange a one-armed man-hug that looks alien to Sam because Dad hasn’t thrown his arms around either Dean or Sam like that in a long time. Sam’s finished with the plates and indicates for Dean to help him. The two older men follow the food back into the eating area where Sam has already put the cooling rolls in a bowl in the middle of the table and set places for everyone.
“Boot Camp in San Diego.” Schneider continues as they settle down.
Dad grins at his friend and then nods at the food, sending a warm glance at Sam. “Smells good, Sam. Thanks, son.”
Sam nods, feeling a little dizzy with happiness. Dad’s compliments and thanks were coming further and fewer between than ever so it was nice to hear Dad speak towards him in words that weren’t gruff orders or reprimands. It’s only been recently that Sam’s taken up the cooking-it had been Dean’s job for as long as he could remember. Sam doesn’t mind it so much, feels glad to help out his family, and he doesn’t do too bad with the cheap ingredients he usually has so that’s a plus.
“Quite the housewife you’ve got there,” Coach Schneider adds and Sam bristles again but the comment doesn’t seem to affect either Dean or Dad so he tries to let it go. “It’s good.” Nathan continues after he swallows a mouthful. “You’re lucky to have someone to look after you, you bastard.” He jokes, jabbing Dad in the shoulder with a fist. To his mild horror Sam starts to blush, unused to so much blatant praise.
“A housewife without all the nagging.” Dad adds with a small, playful wink towards Sam and again Sam’s so giddy to get such positive feedback from his father that he’s willing to overlook the jab at his masculinity (for now, anyway).
“Nah, man, Sammy helps out. We don’t always ask him to, but it’s kind of nice to come home after work and not have to worry about cooking and cleaning.” Dean throws in around a mouthful of steak, wrinkling his nose because for a long time that’s exactly what Dean had done, worked himself to exhaustion juggling hunting, work, taking Sam to school, and maintaining whatever place they were living in at the time. Dean reaches out and musses Sam’s hair.
“I’m thinking about getting you an apron for your birthday, how’s that sound, Sammy?” Dean teases, grinning despite the food in his mouth.
Sam groans and Coach Schneider barks out a laugh. “I don’t know, Sam. You might even look good in it.” The comment makes Dad and Dean chuckle and Sam scowl.
Sam shrugs it off and the conversation is turned not a second later.
“So. The Marines? Same platoon?” Dean asks. and has always been especially interested in Dad’s war stories. Sam thinks that if they weren’t hunting then Dean might have joined the Marines after high school. It would have suited Dean and Sam thinks Dean would have excelled there. Maybe after they get whatever killed Mom Dean could live out a few of his dreams.
“I saved your Dad’s life.” Schneider says and leans towards Sam as if confiding in him though the entire table heard.
Dad rolled his eyes and swallowed his food. “I saved yours.”
“We saved each other’s!” Coach Schneider acquiesces with a wave of the fork in his hand and a grin.
“He really did save my life out there.” Dad says seriously and his eyes took on the same shade they took whenever the night Mom died was brought up in conversation. “Pulled me out of the line of fire I never saw coming-RPG.” He clarifies.
“It was just a debt I had to pay off.” Coach Schneider says as he sets his beer back down. “He saved my life before.”
Dad laughs genuinely-loud and merry and Sam kind of jumps because he hadn’t heard that sound in months, maybe even longer. “Man, that was Boot Camp. And that was Drill Instructor Sergeant Turner.”
“I don’t know, man.” Coach Schneider shrugs. “He was one scary son of a bitch and he had it out for me. If it wasn’t for you he probably would have kicked me out of the Marines.”
“Drill Instructor Sergeant Turner was not the same as a RPG heading at your head.”
“Just as fucking scary, though.” Coach Schneider points out and they laugh and toast.
Sam sits back and lets out a breath that he’s been holding for what feels like the entire day. Dad and Dean were here, made it through the day, and were relaxed and confident and real. This hunt was going to be fine after all, whether it was the thing that killed Mom or not. And Coach Schneider wasn’t such a bad guy. He got them this nice place (with bedrooms and a backyard), he set Dean up with a job and maybe his Dad, too. He saved his Dad’s life once and attended Mom and Dad’s wedding. Sam was just stressed out and paranoid, like Coach Schneider had said.
He still feels thin and blue like a robin’s egg all over, but with every small smile he sees on Dad’s face and every laugh from Dean he feels a little bit thicker-a little bit more alive