Losing All Sense of Wrong and Right Ch2
Author: Cassie
Title: Losing Sense of Wrong and Right
Pairings: Sam/Dean
Rating/Warning: R, Wincest, Rough Sex,
Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, Sam or Dean(except when I am dreaming)
Summary: Sam and Dean sleep together...only for Dean to find out his brother is not quite as coherent as he had assumed
“Sam I did not mean to hurt you, but you have to see that what we did was wrong. Incest is wrong.” Dean said shaking the vivid flashback from his mind. “I had to leave, before things got even more out of hand. I could never forgive myself if I let things go too far.”
“Dean I tasted your cum, how is that not going too far? You swallowed mine as well; we are well past too far.” Sam said releasing the knife from Dean’s back. “I do not regret the pleasure we shared last night, drunk or not.”
Dean turned to face Sam, their bodies still close together, “I can’t do this, you must try to forget” he said before pulling away. Heading towards the door, he felt the constant stare of his brother. “Let us forget about this Sam, let’s go hunt some evil, kick some ass. Things will be better if we can just move on.”
Sam couldn’t help but nod, he was afraid of losing his brother, afraid of being left all alone.
“I…I found a hunt, let’s get to it.” Dean said simply, unable to convey any other rational thought. “Killing some evil sons of bitches makes everything better”
Dean slammed his body against the wall, narrowly missing the vase flying towards his head. Sam was lost somewhere in the maze of deteriorated rooms, searching for any sign of a diary. Peeking around the corner Dean caught a glimpse of a young child, angrily throwing all she could get her hands on. The blood on her yellow dress, and the pale blue skin was the only sign that she was dead.
“Come on” He said as a dinner plate crashed onto his leg, leaving a deep cut. Throwing himself from behind the wall he fired a single shot of rock salt into the girls head. Her image faded and he knew he had a moment to prepare himself for the next attack.
“Sammy! Find anything?” he called to his brother, knowing it was more wishful thinking than anything else. From the other side of the house Dean heard a distant ‘no’.
The minutes were flying by and come sunset the little girl would disappear and yet another day would be rendered useless. They had searched the grounds, found her body and seemingly sent her packing. Only it did not work, she was still in the house, throwing her never ending tantrum. The story claimed a little girl with little blonde curls sent her Daddy packing. Her mommy was found all around, the blood caked like mud upon the girl’s world. An uncle had come, and he quickly won, slitting her throat and sending her into the darkest moat.
Every night the little girl came, seeking revenge on the parents she felt had done her wrong. It was said her father touched and her mother in turn refused to touch her. The angry child was willing to throw tantrums, and kill, whoever entered her house. Every day she rose from beyond, and every night she faded into the horizon. If Dean and Sam did not hurry they would miss their chance a third day in a row.
The only thing belonging to the little girl that had not been burned was a diary, one she held in the last picture ever taken of her. Dean and Sam had searched everywhere, and were damn near just burning the place down.
A burst of giggles erupted from behind him, causing Dean’s eyes to widen just before he was thrown onto a wall. The crunching sound of his shoulder blades smashing into the hard wood echoed through the room, causing the girl to laugh again.
“Mommy didn’t love meeeee because Daddy loved meeeee too much” she said in a singsong voice, as though she was happy her father had touched her. Dean couldn’t help but think ‘Stockholm syndrome’.
The little girl picked up a large plank of wood, and prepared to throw it, clearly aiming for Dean’s head. Behind her the creek of an old floor board caused her head to jerk around. Sam stood with a wide grin, the diary and a lit match in hand. With a dramatic hand gesture the book burst into flames, the little girl burning with it.
“God Sammy did you wait long enough?” Dean said with a smile, clearly relieved he did not have a plank sprouting from his head.
“Next time you go on a wild goose chase, and I’ll face the scary six year old” Sam said heading towards the impala. Chapter 3