Fic: Help Me, Rhonda (Fucked Me Over!)
Fic: Help Me, Rhonda (Fucked Me Over!)
Authors: Sam stangerine88 and Kallylighthousefae
Disclaimer: I get it, they're not mine. Yet. No really, don't sue.
Pairings: Dean/Sam
Warnings: Slash of the Wincest variety, UST, (Well-deserved) Public Humiliation
Ratings: PG
Spoilers: For 5.04 "The End"
Summary: 'Forgiveness is divine' and all.... ie Sam finds out....
Inspired by my challenge: After the whole pink satin panties scene (and damn if I missed ten minutes of the show trying to wrap my head around that!) I thought to myself - sure I'm sick of Sam always apologizing and taking more than his fair share of the blame, but if Sam ever found this out, it might be worth all the apologies Dean would never give!
Sam's phone went off as Dean cuddled with the Impala, muttering strange apologies into the paint as he buffed and shined away.
He'd only been gone for a week and a half and already his brother was back to talking to his car as if it were a human being.
Somethings never changed.
"Hello?" He greeted with furrowed eyebrows. The caller ID had come up unknown name and of the people who had his current phone number, Sam knew he had their's in return.
"Sam?" Chuck's jittery voice sounded tiny and...almost giddy on the other end of the line. "Are you alone?"
"Um, yeah?" Sam peeked his head out at Dean who was still enthralled with his car. "What's up?"
"Oh God, he's going to kill me for telling you this-" Sam's eyebrows jumped at the level of anxiety the prophet could share over a cell phone. "It's...um, well it's Dean."
Dread filled Sam's stomach. He swallowed thickly. "What? What's wrong?"
"Aw, crap." A dull thud sounded on Chuck's end of things, telling Sam that the other man had literally headdesked. "Look, it's nothing bad....just, sometimes Dean is a dick."
"Excuse me?" Sam wondered if he were dreaming, reaching out to sniff at the empty coffe cup beside his laptop. Could too much caffeine cause hallucinations?
"Come on, Sam. Even I know there is a certain amount of dick-ishness to Dean that gives him his charm. I know you've thought the exact same thing."
It was no fun arguing with a damn prophet who had his sight set to permenantly monitor Winchesters, Sam had come to find. "Okay, sure." He agreed. Maybe he'd wake up soon if he played along.
"Right-yeah, so you agree." Chuck seemed stumped on how to continue this rather weird conversation. "I'm just giving you the heads up- if he ever, you know, gets to be too much of a dick, just tell him you know about the panties."
Ohhh, Sam thought. It was one of those dreams. "Well, now I want to know about the panties." He muttered, scratching the back of his head.
He listened as Chuck grumbled about 'wincest' and 'unresolved sexual tension' before getting to the best blackmail material Sam had ever had in his life.
He quickly opened a new tab to begin his search on eBay for a pair of pink, satin panties, and one other to look up Rhonda Hurley. "Thanks, Chuck."
"No problem."
Hundreds of miles away, Chuck put down the receiver and grinned. They were well on their way to changing destiny.
***
Kiss me, just kiss me until I pass out from lack of air, Sam mentally encouraged as Dean's tongue gave his oral cavity an exam that would make his dentist blush - and it had.
Then he could breath again.
What-
"Sam, we have to have a talk."
Fuck it all, we are about to have the mother of all make-up sex! What now?! Sam screamed in his head. Talented fingers contined to make short work of Dean's zip-fly, and his lips searched out his brother's.
"We've had the this conversation before Dean, I know where babies come from, in fact-" Sam threw out, hoping familiar banter would get him back in the mood.
"Sam," Dean interjected, gripping either side of Sam's head, "I mean it."
Sam's fingers ceased, and looked at Dean, anxiety churning in his stomach, before climbing off his brother's lap. He dreaded the moment Dean would change his mind about staying together.
"It it, um, about us? I mean-"
Dean's brows furrowed, "No, no Sam, it's not that. I - Look, man, I have to tell you something."
"Look, whatever it is-" Sam started.
"Sam. You need to know this," Voice husky, bent, and tired, Dean sat down heavily on the opposite bed, facing Sam, looking for all the world like the old man he would likely never become.
"You take so much on your shoulders, Sammy. And all the times I accused you of keeping things from me...now it's my turn. If we're serious about the hunt, about being...us...again, you gotta hear this. And please, I'm begging you Sam, to be wiser than me, once you hear this. We've been broken before-"
Sam merely nodded. No more words needed to be said.
"This whole mess, the Apocalypse, it wasn't just you. It was always *us*. We started it. We end it." Another breath. "Sam, I broke the first seal."
Sam didn't move a muscle. Didn't blink.
"I'm sorry," Dean offered with everything he had.
Finally, after what must have been about ten minutes of sitting stock still and staring at the floor, he let out a shaky breath, before moving his eyes up to Dean.
Resolute.
"Okay."
Dean's turn to finally blink away tears he would later deny having, "Okay? Sam, I just gave you my own mother-of-all-confessions."
"I know," came Sam's reply, softly, without judgment.
Sam was relaxed, understanding, and calm - Dean knew this would not turn out well for him.
"I deserve more than 'it's okay,' Sam! Shit." Dean huffed, smoothing his palm over his face, "You know, I would have at least punched me in the face," Dean mouth twitched as he thought of meeting his future self, not noticing Sam was fiddling with his Blackberry for the last minute. "Did actually."
Sam pocketed his phone and made his way to the door.
"It's ok, Dean, it's taken care of," he lightheartedly threw over his shoulder before grabbing the keys to the Impala.
"Burgers," he explained, "Extra onions? Pie?"
Dean frowned, Sam seemed awfully cool about this revelation, but went with it. "Yeah," he muttered, turning back to the television before twisting around, "Sam?"
Sam stopped at the open door, eyebrows raised.
"What do you mean it's taken care of?"
Sam gave him what was probably the happiest and most carefree grin he'd seen on his little brother's face in too long.
"You'll see; but trust me, we're good," and shut the door.
Not two seconds later Dean's phone chimed, alerting him to a text message from Sam providing a youtube website, and plenty of their fellow hunters and web communities CC'd. Curious, he opened the site to see a familiar and smiling figure in pink satin panties....
"SAAAAAAAAMMMM!!!!!!"
The only sound that could be heard was the Impala roaring out the motel parking lot.
The End.