(no subject)
Title: Through A Vision Darkly
Author: lissa-ann, Lissa
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing/character: Sam/Dean
Rating:NC-17
Prompt: Post-apocalypse; Sam is overwhelmed by his abilities and needs Dean to ground him
Kink: Future fic and insanity
Prompter: darkhavens
Summary: Sam's visions are getting worse.
Word Count: 4,414
Notes: Special, special, special thanks goes out to my first ever Supernatural beta eboniorchid (since this is my first ever Supernatural slash - please keep that in mind…). Wow, having a beta is great. She took the time and really gave me good insight, pointing out what needed to be cleared up, and covering all of my bases with all of my given weaknesses.
WARNINGS: Wincest. First time. Character death. Graphic violence. Evil!Sam. Graphic m/m sex.
It was over. Hell had come to earth.
Many of the hunters died, keeping as many spirits in hell as they could. Gates and reservoirs around the country were thrown open, overwhelming those who would hold them back. Some hunters survived, only to be possessed by one of the thousands of demons that found their way back to earth. A few hunters hung on, but there was no way to exorcise all of the demons, and those who did hang on were simply trying to save themselves. Hunters had always been solitary types.
Sam and Dean had gone back to Wyoming, back to the old cowboy cemetery, knowing that it would be one of the hottest spots in the country. They knew what they were up against and committed to do all they could.
The armies of demons that were promised by the Yellow Eyed Demon filled the cemetery. They didn't know which way to look. Spirits zipped around them, trying to find bodies to inhabit, but both brothers had the charms that Bobby had given them. Charms were never 100% perfect, though, and the demons in human bodies were able to find them and weasel them away during the fight, opening them to possession.
Dean moved further away from Sam to see where to attack next. Sam felt himself pushed to his knees as his brother walked out of reach and his mouth became filled with the black smoke of possession. His eyes glinted black as he went after Dean.
Sam came up behind him, wrapping his arm around Dean's neck and holding him tightly as Dean gasped and started to choke.
"Oh, Dean, Dean, Dean," Sam said. "Do you know how long we've waited for this?"
"You evil son of a bitch. What have you done with Sam?"
"Sam is a nice long way away. Not so far that he can't see … but there's no chance that he'll come back to overpower me. I'm simply too much for him."
Sam drew his machete from his belt. "I'm going to enjoy flaying you alive," he hissed. "Playing with you like a child's toy."
Sam pointed the machete into Dean's neck, and began to slice down Dean's back…
-----
Sam woke up with a huge gasp and an excruciating headache, unable to keep his eyes open. The pain subsided in small increments until the ringing in Sam's ears begins to fade. "Dean?" he was able to gasp out.
Immediately, Dean was at Sam's side, one hand stroking his neck gently, the other resting on Sam's shoulder. "Sam, look at me," Dean commanded. "C'mon, Sammy, I'm right here in front of you. Just open your eyes."
Slowly, as if fighting off being blinded, Sam blinked his eyes rapidly until he was able to see clearly through them and looked into Dean's green eyes, right in front of him. "Dean."
"What happened, Sam?"
Sam shook his head, feeling like he was covered in cobwebs. He winced and said, "Vision."
"What'd you see?"
Sam sighed. He didn't want to burden Dean with this. He had too much on his plate as it was. He looked away as he answered, "Same as usual."
Dean, who hadn't moved far away, grabbed Sam's chin and forced Sam to look him in the eyes. "Don't lie to me, Sam. I always know when you're lying to me. You never look at me straight."
"Dean, don't. Just let it go."
"No, god damn it, Sam, I won't just let it go!" He began to pace. "Why is it always something we have to fight about? Why can't you just tell me what the fuck you saw, so that we can figure it out together? You don't need to do this, Sammy."
Sam looked down. "The apocalypse. I saw it playing out in front of me. Demons everywhere, possessing anyone they could. Things so evil, you wouldn't even believe me."
"How long has this been happening?"
Still looking down, he said, "About a week now."
"Why the fuck is this the first I'm hearing about this?"
"They haven't been as intense as today's. I've been able to settle myself better."
"How am I supposed to help you if I don't know what's going on?"
"Maybe I don't want to be helped, Dean. Maybe I can go crazy on my own."
"Sam, you're not crazy. Visions don't make you crazy, they never have."
"Dean, I'm seeing the end of the world. I'm watching you die, and I'm the one who's killing you! It's out of control!" Sam paused, stood and turned towards Dean, who was near the door. "Dean, you've got to do it. You've got to kill me. I can't. I can't keep living like this."
"Sammy, you know I won't do it. I still have a chance to save you. And I will. I've sworn that if I do nothing else in this lifetime, I will save you."
"I saw myself put a machete to your neck and start to slide the blade down your back, saying I was looking forward to skinning you alive!"
Dean moved towards Sam and gently pushed him so that he was sitting down on the bed. Then he sat down next to him, rubbing his back and trying to soothe him. "Sammy, we're gonna figure this out. I swear to you. Right now, we're just gonna hang tight, stay here, and let you relax a little. It's time we took a break anyways."
"No, I think we need to keep moving. I think that if we're busy, that maybe these visions will go away. I can't stay still. My head won't let me."
"Okay. Well, give me a little bit of time. By tomorrow, we'll be out of here." Dean sighed. "C'mon, let's go get something to eat."
They left the motel room and headed down the street to a small, cozy restaurant. They each ordered a beer, Dean ordered a cheeseburger and fries, and Sam got a chicken sandwich, also with fries. Dean watched Sam closely, but Sam didn't eat much at all, though he finished his beer quickly.
"Let's get out of here," Sam whispered.
"Dude, you barely ate."
"Not hungry," he mumbled. Sam got up and headed to the exit as Dean threw money down on the table and tried to catch up to him.
Sam walked in silence in front of Dean, who wondered how to get Sam out of the mood he was in. Sam was obsessing about this to his detriment and Dean didn't know how to pull him out of it.
They got back to the motel, Dean unlocking the door and entering the small space. Sam started to go into the room, but then turned around and headed back out into the parking lot.
"Where are you going, Sammy?"
"For a walk. I gotta get out of the room … I gotta blow off some energy before I can settle down. I'll be fine. I've got my phone with me."
Dean debated about trying to talk him out of it, but Sam did have his phone, and the time alone would give Dean a chance to think about what they would do next. "It rings, you answer it, got it?"
"Yes, sir." Sam turned his back to Dean and walked out the door, closing it behind him.
Dean sighed as he opened up Sam's laptop and began to do some research of his own.
-----
Dean had been on the net for three hours before he caught what time it was, and that Sam still wasn't back. He walked out of the room into the parking lot and took a look around to see if he could see Sam anywhere, but it was rapidly becoming dark and hard to see. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and speed dialed Sam's number.
Four rings went by before Sam answered. "Hello?"
"Sam, where are you? You've been gone for three hours now. It's time for you to come back."
"Just walking." Dean knew that Sam was lying to him, but wasn't going to call him on it until he was safe back in the motel room. "I'll be back in about 15 minutes."
"Don't make me have to come after you, Sam."
"Fifteen minutes. That's it."
Sam hung up the phone and shook his head as he walked back from the center of town. How was he ever going to explain this to Dean?
-----
While Sam was away, Dean had been researching a number of things at the same time. He was looking for a new job for them in the surrounding towns, so that they wouldn’t have to leave where they were currently based. He knew that Sam wanted to leave, but maybe if he found something interesting enough, he could persuade Sam to stay here. That would give Dean time to stick close and keep his eye on Sam until he was able to figure out what to do about the visions. There were one or two things that might have some promise, but he wanted Sam to take a look at them as well.
The other focus of his research had been the ins and outs of visions. Anything he could find on any website, credible or not. He'd scribbled down information that he thought might help Sam in dealing with the intensity of his visions and now, reviewing what he'd found, he wasn't sure of the veracity of the information, but wanted to give Sam hope that he could help with the intensity of the visions.
He glanced at his watch and, as if on cue, the door swung open to reveal an exhausted Sam. "Thank god you're back.", Dean thought, though he would never admit that openly. "Bout fucking time."
Sam half-smiled, knowing that Dean was just relieved that he was back safe. He sat on his bed, silent for a moment. "So, now what?"
"Well, I think I've found a couple of things locally that we could look into." He turned the laptop around so he could show Sam the web pages he had marked. Nothing major, a small haunting, an angry spirit maybe inside a school. "I think that we should take it easy."
Sam looked at Dean with one eyebrow cocked. "Why?"
"You need some downtime, Sammy."
"You're worried about the visions, aren't you. Too afraid to admit it to me."
"Look, I just want to stay in one place for a couple of days, keep my eye on you. You barely sleep when you're in a motel, I know you don't sleep when we're driving."
Sam sighed, knowing that he didn't really have an argument that would work on Dean when he got like this. "Okay. We play your way for a little while." While still frightened by his visions, Sam actually didn't mind staying here, despite his earlier protests. Maybe Dean was right, maybe things could calm down if they stuck in one place for a bit.
He stood and grabbed his duffel bag. "I'm going to go take a shower, is that alright?" he asked, sarcastically.
"Yeah, that should be okay," Dean teased. Then Sam headed into the bathroom and locked the door.
-----
Sam turned the shower on as hot as he could stand it. One of the perks of this motel was the luxury of hot water and water pressure. Sam always relished when they found this at the motels where they stayed.
He stripped, leaving his clothes just in front of the sink. He would figure out laundry once he had showered. He grabbed the shampoo and soap from his duffel and slid under the water.
For a few minutes, Sam just stood under the shower head, letting the water pour over him. While his eyes were closed, he could clearly see the vision from this morning playing over in his head again. It had done the same while he was out on his walk. He could feel the tension, feel the possession, and feel the need to kill Dean.
Sam began to wash his hair, rinse, and clean up. He had gotten a few scratches on the walk, nothing major, but enough to be irritating. He gently scrubbed the scratches to make sure that they wouldn't get infected. He rinsed himself off and began to shut off the shower, when pain exploded from the base of his skull to the front of his head with no warning whatsoever.
Sam found himself again, back in the cemetery, spirits zooming around him, as he held Dean on his lap. The light had gone out of Dean's eyes, and Sam continued to cut the skin off his body, almost as if he were filleting an animal. It was a ritual that his spirit needed him to complete, to show that he had complete control over Sam. Sam had now become the leader of the army of spirits and demons that had come to take over the earth, a fate he was warned about so long ago.
-----
Dean heard screams of pain coming from the bathroom, screams that didn't even sound like they belonged to Sam anymore, more like something inhuman that had taken Sam over. Dean knocked on the door. "Sammy, let me in!" There was no answer. Dean wasn't going to wait. He stepped back from the door and kicked. The door slammed against the wall with a loud crash. Dean dropped to his knees, where Sam was on the floor, practically convulsing. At a loss for what to do to help Sam, Dean took Sam's hand in his, squeezing, trying to pull Sam from whatever the vision was showing him. "Sammy. Sam, you have to listen to me." Sam's body began to fold over into itself, his knees being brought up into his chest, curling into the fetal position. "C'mon, Sam, fight. Fight it." His voice lowered, desperately. "Can't leave me like this, Sammy. Can't leave me to fight them all alone." "Come back to me. I need you, Sammy," his mind raced.
Slowly, Sam's body began to stop shaking. Dean stroked Sam's face and neck, trying to soothe him, trying to help him find his balance, his center. He picked Sam up off the floor, body more pliable now, not as constricted as it had been. At the same time, Sam's body felt limp, and Dean was having a hard time knowing if Sam was still conscious or not. He laid Sam down on the bed. His hand immediately went over Sam's heart, and he felt the beat beneath his palm and the slow rise and fall of his chest.
Dean undressed down to his shorts, then wrapped himself around Sam as best he could. He had read while he was researching that human touch helped people with visions to become focused and work their way through them. He ran his hand softly over Sam's chest, keeping track of his heartbeat and his breath as he pressed flush against Sam's side, pleadingly mumbling to Sam that he had to be all right, he had to come back, he had to wake up. His touch was gentle, just soothing him, knowing that he's reaching Sam and comforting him.
Dean had no idea how much time passed before he started to hear Sam moan softly. "Sammy?" His voice is low and quiet, not wanting to startle him.
"Mmmm?" Sam questioned.
"Sammy, can you hear me?"
Sam's head nodded yes. In a dry voice, he quietly said, "Head hurts."
Dean kissed Sam's forehead. "I know. Don't move. You had a pretty bad time with this vision." Dean looked at him. "I'm gonna get you a cold washcloth and some painkillers." Sam moaned a little, as if he didn't want Dean to leave. "I'll be right back."
Sam could hear the tap running in the bathroom and hear the pills rattling in the bottle. Dean came back and put his hand under Sam's neck to raise his head a little for him to be able to take a drink of water with the tablets. He put the washcloth on his forehead, then went back to lying at Sam's side, keeping himself as close to Sam as he could.
"What're you doing?" Sam mumbled.
"I was doing some research today while you were out walking, and I found a couple of sites that said that human contact helps when people are coming back from a vision. It seems to anchor them to reality." Dean began to stroke Sam's face, brushing his mouth against Sam's cheek, a kiss that seemed to mean more than Dean even knew.
He was suddenly very aware of Sam, of him as a man and not just him as a brother. He'd been stroking Sam's chest, but now he could feel the strength of muscles under his hand and he breathed a little faster. The warmth radiating off Sam's body hit his own skin and he started to sweat. Seeing Sam's lips made him lick his own and he blinked slowly, trying to put old feelings away. Those feelings wouldn't let themselves be buried again, though, like he'd done before Sam had left for Stanford, oblivious and likely uninterested.
Dean's wants pushed him to remember the site he'd come across earlier that suggested moving beyond basic human contact to something more intense, something like sex. When he'd read it, he'd scoffed, imagining scams with psychics seeking sex to stay in this realm of existence. As he lay beside a clearly exhausted Sam, however, he had to wonder if it was the deep intimacy and connection that promised to help calm Sam, drawing energy to fight from Dean. The truth was that the visions were debilitating at this point, coming on without warning and with crippling strength. If they didn't find a way to ground Sam deeply and soon, there was a very real chance that he'd take a trip to the world of his visions one day and never come back.
It was a possibility Dean wouldn't allow to happen. Even if that meant crossing lines he'd told himself he'd never cross.
"How are you doing, Sam?"
"Not feeling quite as dead as I was before."
"Got something to say to you, but I don't know the best way to do it."
"What? You know you can tell me anything."
Dean took in a deep breath. In a low voice, he said, "Want you, Sammy."
Sam turned his head and looked at him, confused but not pulling away. "What?" Dean could feel Sam's body tremble under his hand.
He nuzzled his nose and mouth into the crook of Sam's neck, starting to lick softly. "Want you. Want to be with you."
Sam pulled Dean's head from where he was nuzzling and looked deeply into his eyes, questioning. "Are you…are you sure? We've never…"
"I know," Dean replied, "but I used to think about it sometimes, before you left for Stanford. I never brought it up, because I knew it wasn't normal and with Dad around and you not being interested, I just let it go."
Sam's voice stayed soft. "You should have told me. Something this strong. You should have asked." Sam turned his head and kissed Dean gently on the lips.
"Oh, Sammy," he sighed. He deepened the kisses, wanting more of Sam, wanting to help him stay connected, to keep Sam's visions from coming back.
He rolled himself on top of Sam, hands roaming everywhere, mouth covering Sam's lips, his jaw, his neck, his shoulder. Dean felt Sam grow hard as his lips moved over him. Sam's hands wandered around Dean's back, stroking his skin and keeping him close.
Dean had been hard with only the tentative kisses and sweet glances of Sam's body from before. He slid his way down Sam's body, taking Sam's boxers with him as he began to slowly stroke Sam's cock. Sam groaned with the touch, breath hot and panting.
Without hesitation or delay, Dean put his mouth on Sam, just around the head of his brother's cock at first, not teasing but taking his time, and Sam thought he might pass out from the pleasure. Dean's hands fondled Sam's balls slowly, rolling each in his hand. Then he opened his jaw and sucked Sam as far down as he could. His hand reached down to stroke where his mouth couldn't reach as Sam thrust up, his mouth working over Sam's cock, inexperienced but intuitive.
Sam's hands ran over Dean's neck and head, fingers tangling in his brother's short hair. His hands tightened their grip, as he grew closer to his orgasm, until Dean almost felt like Sam was ripping the hair out of his head. Then Sam bucked his hips and started to come in Dean's mouth.
Dean pulled off just as Sam jerked up, cock spurting, but a little come landed on his tongue anyway. The taste wasn't one he'd experienced before and it wasn't like he'd expected - a little salt, a little sour, and a lot of Sam, wrapped up in just that one drop. Dying to taste more of him, Dean bent down to licked the fluid from where it had splashed on Sam's body.
Dean had never wanted Sam more. He faltered, not knowing how to ask Sam how much experience Sam had. "Have you ever done this, Sam?" he asked, not knowing what Sam would say. All's Dean knew is that he desperately wanted to be inside Sam, knowing Sam as intimately has he could, wanting to give all of himself to just him, just his Sammy, no one else.
Sam drew in several deep breaths. "Yes. But not many times." He gulped. "Go into my bag, and you'll find…something to help."
Dean moved as quickly as he could over to Sam's bag, searched around a little, then found the bottle of lube that Sam had been referring to. "You never know…", Sam explained.
He kissed Sam deeply as he climbed back on top of him, then he slid three fingers into Sam's mouth, urging him to suck on them. He felt his brother's mouth close around his fingers as Sam's tongue ran up and down each digit slowly. Then Dean took those wet fingers out and dragged them down Sam's body to his ass, gently pushing the tip of his first finger inside. "Tell me, Sam. You need to tell me if what I'm doing is right."
Sam moaned. "Good start."
Dean pushed his finger in deeper, exploring. He slid his second finger inside, waiting for Sam to adjust to the intrusion and with his next thrust in, he found Sam's pleasure center. He listened to the pitch of Sam's voice change as he kept hitting that spot with his fingers. "You doing okay up there, Sammy?"
"Oh, god, Dean. More. I need more."
Dean smirked at Sam's reaction, a little smug. Then he grabbed the bottle of lube and slicked up his cock before moving to enter Sam slowly.
Sam's responses became low and guttural as he pressed in, driving Dean on. He slid himself inside inch by inch and Sam's body clenched around him, making them both moan. Then he paused to let Sam relax for a moment and breathe before he started to thrust, gentle at first but getting stronger.
He leaned down to kiss Sam, one hand on Sam's hip to keep himself steady, and one hand running down Sam's side, feeling every muscle and sinew of his body. Then his thrusting became frenzied as he felt his orgasm grow, feeling his entire body tingling before he felt the sensation gather in his pelvis until he pulled his mouth from Sam's with a groan and came deep inside his brother's body.
Sam latched onto Dean's body, keeping it as close to him as he could. Dean sunk into that embrace, collapsing on Sam's chest as his thrusts subsided. Then he shifted to lay down next to Sam, holding him close and whispering "mine". "Not going anywhere, always with you", Dean thought but couldn't get those words out. Simply, "mine".
As they both found their breaths again, Dean gently guided Sam's head to face him. "I read one more thing about keeping psychics grounded." He lifted his left hand up and pulled off his silver ring. Sam's eyes grew wide as Dean took Sam's left hand and slid that ring onto his finger. "It's a truly personal talisman," Dean spoke softly. "Even when I'm not here, it'll be a part of me that you always carry with you, to help keep your head together. It should help you pull out of your vision and refocus."
Sam kissed Dean softly and leaned heavily into the pillow they were sharing, finding it hard to keep his eyes open, not because of the visions, but because he needed to sleep. "Thank you," he breathed.
Dean simply tightened his grasp and quietly said, "It's okay, Sammy. I'll protect you."
Sam nodded and yawned, curling closer to his brother as he quickly relaxed into sleep.
-----
In the end, though, it didn't matter.
By the time hell came to earth, all the visions that Dean had tried to rid from Sam's mind were coming true. Even with all the grounding tools that Dean used, even with all the love that he gave, even with the talisman, that tiny bit of himself that Sam wore day and night, Sam still had "demon" written in his DNA, running through his veins, and it was only written over more darkly after his death and Dean's desperate deal.
Sam had, of course, held his brethren at bay when the time came, Dean not dying at the end of his promised year. Sam was powerful enough to do that by then, and the crossroads demon despaired, not having Dean to toy with. No one else would ever have Dean's soul, though. Sam would never allow that gift to go to anyone. No one else was worthy.
It wasn't until he had finally killed and skinned Dean, though, that the demon in him took over fully. It was only then, when he saw his brother, dead by his hand, that the insanity of his visions returned, images, sensations, actions, wants, and needs flooding his mind with the darkness of true evil.
But it was destined, just as he was destined, to lead the armies of hell to victory on a broken, blood-stained Earth.
Author: lissa-ann, Lissa
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing/character: Sam/Dean
Rating:NC-17
Prompt: Post-apocalypse; Sam is overwhelmed by his abilities and needs Dean to ground him
Kink: Future fic and insanity
Prompter: darkhavens
Summary: Sam's visions are getting worse.
Word Count: 4,414
Notes: Special, special, special thanks goes out to my first ever Supernatural beta eboniorchid (since this is my first ever Supernatural slash - please keep that in mind…). Wow, having a beta is great. She took the time and really gave me good insight, pointing out what needed to be cleared up, and covering all of my bases with all of my given weaknesses.
WARNINGS: Wincest. First time. Character death. Graphic violence. Evil!Sam. Graphic m/m sex.
It was over. Hell had come to earth.
Many of the hunters died, keeping as many spirits in hell as they could. Gates and reservoirs around the country were thrown open, overwhelming those who would hold them back. Some hunters survived, only to be possessed by one of the thousands of demons that found their way back to earth. A few hunters hung on, but there was no way to exorcise all of the demons, and those who did hang on were simply trying to save themselves. Hunters had always been solitary types.
Sam and Dean had gone back to Wyoming, back to the old cowboy cemetery, knowing that it would be one of the hottest spots in the country. They knew what they were up against and committed to do all they could.
The armies of demons that were promised by the Yellow Eyed Demon filled the cemetery. They didn't know which way to look. Spirits zipped around them, trying to find bodies to inhabit, but both brothers had the charms that Bobby had given them. Charms were never 100% perfect, though, and the demons in human bodies were able to find them and weasel them away during the fight, opening them to possession.
Dean moved further away from Sam to see where to attack next. Sam felt himself pushed to his knees as his brother walked out of reach and his mouth became filled with the black smoke of possession. His eyes glinted black as he went after Dean.
Sam came up behind him, wrapping his arm around Dean's neck and holding him tightly as Dean gasped and started to choke.
"Oh, Dean, Dean, Dean," Sam said. "Do you know how long we've waited for this?"
"You evil son of a bitch. What have you done with Sam?"
"Sam is a nice long way away. Not so far that he can't see … but there's no chance that he'll come back to overpower me. I'm simply too much for him."
Sam drew his machete from his belt. "I'm going to enjoy flaying you alive," he hissed. "Playing with you like a child's toy."
Sam pointed the machete into Dean's neck, and began to slice down Dean's back…
-----
Sam woke up with a huge gasp and an excruciating headache, unable to keep his eyes open. The pain subsided in small increments until the ringing in Sam's ears begins to fade. "Dean?" he was able to gasp out.
Immediately, Dean was at Sam's side, one hand stroking his neck gently, the other resting on Sam's shoulder. "Sam, look at me," Dean commanded. "C'mon, Sammy, I'm right here in front of you. Just open your eyes."
Slowly, as if fighting off being blinded, Sam blinked his eyes rapidly until he was able to see clearly through them and looked into Dean's green eyes, right in front of him. "Dean."
"What happened, Sam?"
Sam shook his head, feeling like he was covered in cobwebs. He winced and said, "Vision."
"What'd you see?"
Sam sighed. He didn't want to burden Dean with this. He had too much on his plate as it was. He looked away as he answered, "Same as usual."
Dean, who hadn't moved far away, grabbed Sam's chin and forced Sam to look him in the eyes. "Don't lie to me, Sam. I always know when you're lying to me. You never look at me straight."
"Dean, don't. Just let it go."
"No, god damn it, Sam, I won't just let it go!" He began to pace. "Why is it always something we have to fight about? Why can't you just tell me what the fuck you saw, so that we can figure it out together? You don't need to do this, Sammy."
Sam looked down. "The apocalypse. I saw it playing out in front of me. Demons everywhere, possessing anyone they could. Things so evil, you wouldn't even believe me."
"How long has this been happening?"
Still looking down, he said, "About a week now."
"Why the fuck is this the first I'm hearing about this?"
"They haven't been as intense as today's. I've been able to settle myself better."
"How am I supposed to help you if I don't know what's going on?"
"Maybe I don't want to be helped, Dean. Maybe I can go crazy on my own."
"Sam, you're not crazy. Visions don't make you crazy, they never have."
"Dean, I'm seeing the end of the world. I'm watching you die, and I'm the one who's killing you! It's out of control!" Sam paused, stood and turned towards Dean, who was near the door. "Dean, you've got to do it. You've got to kill me. I can't. I can't keep living like this."
"Sammy, you know I won't do it. I still have a chance to save you. And I will. I've sworn that if I do nothing else in this lifetime, I will save you."
"I saw myself put a machete to your neck and start to slide the blade down your back, saying I was looking forward to skinning you alive!"
Dean moved towards Sam and gently pushed him so that he was sitting down on the bed. Then he sat down next to him, rubbing his back and trying to soothe him. "Sammy, we're gonna figure this out. I swear to you. Right now, we're just gonna hang tight, stay here, and let you relax a little. It's time we took a break anyways."
"No, I think we need to keep moving. I think that if we're busy, that maybe these visions will go away. I can't stay still. My head won't let me."
"Okay. Well, give me a little bit of time. By tomorrow, we'll be out of here." Dean sighed. "C'mon, let's go get something to eat."
They left the motel room and headed down the street to a small, cozy restaurant. They each ordered a beer, Dean ordered a cheeseburger and fries, and Sam got a chicken sandwich, also with fries. Dean watched Sam closely, but Sam didn't eat much at all, though he finished his beer quickly.
"Let's get out of here," Sam whispered.
"Dude, you barely ate."
"Not hungry," he mumbled. Sam got up and headed to the exit as Dean threw money down on the table and tried to catch up to him.
Sam walked in silence in front of Dean, who wondered how to get Sam out of the mood he was in. Sam was obsessing about this to his detriment and Dean didn't know how to pull him out of it.
They got back to the motel, Dean unlocking the door and entering the small space. Sam started to go into the room, but then turned around and headed back out into the parking lot.
"Where are you going, Sammy?"
"For a walk. I gotta get out of the room … I gotta blow off some energy before I can settle down. I'll be fine. I've got my phone with me."
Dean debated about trying to talk him out of it, but Sam did have his phone, and the time alone would give Dean a chance to think about what they would do next. "It rings, you answer it, got it?"
"Yes, sir." Sam turned his back to Dean and walked out the door, closing it behind him.
Dean sighed as he opened up Sam's laptop and began to do some research of his own.
-----
Dean had been on the net for three hours before he caught what time it was, and that Sam still wasn't back. He walked out of the room into the parking lot and took a look around to see if he could see Sam anywhere, but it was rapidly becoming dark and hard to see. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and speed dialed Sam's number.
Four rings went by before Sam answered. "Hello?"
"Sam, where are you? You've been gone for three hours now. It's time for you to come back."
"Just walking." Dean knew that Sam was lying to him, but wasn't going to call him on it until he was safe back in the motel room. "I'll be back in about 15 minutes."
"Don't make me have to come after you, Sam."
"Fifteen minutes. That's it."
Sam hung up the phone and shook his head as he walked back from the center of town. How was he ever going to explain this to Dean?
-----
While Sam was away, Dean had been researching a number of things at the same time. He was looking for a new job for them in the surrounding towns, so that they wouldn’t have to leave where they were currently based. He knew that Sam wanted to leave, but maybe if he found something interesting enough, he could persuade Sam to stay here. That would give Dean time to stick close and keep his eye on Sam until he was able to figure out what to do about the visions. There were one or two things that might have some promise, but he wanted Sam to take a look at them as well.
The other focus of his research had been the ins and outs of visions. Anything he could find on any website, credible or not. He'd scribbled down information that he thought might help Sam in dealing with the intensity of his visions and now, reviewing what he'd found, he wasn't sure of the veracity of the information, but wanted to give Sam hope that he could help with the intensity of the visions.
He glanced at his watch and, as if on cue, the door swung open to reveal an exhausted Sam. "Thank god you're back.", Dean thought, though he would never admit that openly. "Bout fucking time."
Sam half-smiled, knowing that Dean was just relieved that he was back safe. He sat on his bed, silent for a moment. "So, now what?"
"Well, I think I've found a couple of things locally that we could look into." He turned the laptop around so he could show Sam the web pages he had marked. Nothing major, a small haunting, an angry spirit maybe inside a school. "I think that we should take it easy."
Sam looked at Dean with one eyebrow cocked. "Why?"
"You need some downtime, Sammy."
"You're worried about the visions, aren't you. Too afraid to admit it to me."
"Look, I just want to stay in one place for a couple of days, keep my eye on you. You barely sleep when you're in a motel, I know you don't sleep when we're driving."
Sam sighed, knowing that he didn't really have an argument that would work on Dean when he got like this. "Okay. We play your way for a little while." While still frightened by his visions, Sam actually didn't mind staying here, despite his earlier protests. Maybe Dean was right, maybe things could calm down if they stuck in one place for a bit.
He stood and grabbed his duffel bag. "I'm going to go take a shower, is that alright?" he asked, sarcastically.
"Yeah, that should be okay," Dean teased. Then Sam headed into the bathroom and locked the door.
-----
Sam turned the shower on as hot as he could stand it. One of the perks of this motel was the luxury of hot water and water pressure. Sam always relished when they found this at the motels where they stayed.
He stripped, leaving his clothes just in front of the sink. He would figure out laundry once he had showered. He grabbed the shampoo and soap from his duffel and slid under the water.
For a few minutes, Sam just stood under the shower head, letting the water pour over him. While his eyes were closed, he could clearly see the vision from this morning playing over in his head again. It had done the same while he was out on his walk. He could feel the tension, feel the possession, and feel the need to kill Dean.
Sam began to wash his hair, rinse, and clean up. He had gotten a few scratches on the walk, nothing major, but enough to be irritating. He gently scrubbed the scratches to make sure that they wouldn't get infected. He rinsed himself off and began to shut off the shower, when pain exploded from the base of his skull to the front of his head with no warning whatsoever.
Sam found himself again, back in the cemetery, spirits zooming around him, as he held Dean on his lap. The light had gone out of Dean's eyes, and Sam continued to cut the skin off his body, almost as if he were filleting an animal. It was a ritual that his spirit needed him to complete, to show that he had complete control over Sam. Sam had now become the leader of the army of spirits and demons that had come to take over the earth, a fate he was warned about so long ago.
-----
Dean heard screams of pain coming from the bathroom, screams that didn't even sound like they belonged to Sam anymore, more like something inhuman that had taken Sam over. Dean knocked on the door. "Sammy, let me in!" There was no answer. Dean wasn't going to wait. He stepped back from the door and kicked. The door slammed against the wall with a loud crash. Dean dropped to his knees, where Sam was on the floor, practically convulsing. At a loss for what to do to help Sam, Dean took Sam's hand in his, squeezing, trying to pull Sam from whatever the vision was showing him. "Sammy. Sam, you have to listen to me." Sam's body began to fold over into itself, his knees being brought up into his chest, curling into the fetal position. "C'mon, Sam, fight. Fight it." His voice lowered, desperately. "Can't leave me like this, Sammy. Can't leave me to fight them all alone." "Come back to me. I need you, Sammy," his mind raced.
Slowly, Sam's body began to stop shaking. Dean stroked Sam's face and neck, trying to soothe him, trying to help him find his balance, his center. He picked Sam up off the floor, body more pliable now, not as constricted as it had been. At the same time, Sam's body felt limp, and Dean was having a hard time knowing if Sam was still conscious or not. He laid Sam down on the bed. His hand immediately went over Sam's heart, and he felt the beat beneath his palm and the slow rise and fall of his chest.
Dean undressed down to his shorts, then wrapped himself around Sam as best he could. He had read while he was researching that human touch helped people with visions to become focused and work their way through them. He ran his hand softly over Sam's chest, keeping track of his heartbeat and his breath as he pressed flush against Sam's side, pleadingly mumbling to Sam that he had to be all right, he had to come back, he had to wake up. His touch was gentle, just soothing him, knowing that he's reaching Sam and comforting him.
Dean had no idea how much time passed before he started to hear Sam moan softly. "Sammy?" His voice is low and quiet, not wanting to startle him.
"Mmmm?" Sam questioned.
"Sammy, can you hear me?"
Sam's head nodded yes. In a dry voice, he quietly said, "Head hurts."
Dean kissed Sam's forehead. "I know. Don't move. You had a pretty bad time with this vision." Dean looked at him. "I'm gonna get you a cold washcloth and some painkillers." Sam moaned a little, as if he didn't want Dean to leave. "I'll be right back."
Sam could hear the tap running in the bathroom and hear the pills rattling in the bottle. Dean came back and put his hand under Sam's neck to raise his head a little for him to be able to take a drink of water with the tablets. He put the washcloth on his forehead, then went back to lying at Sam's side, keeping himself as close to Sam as he could.
"What're you doing?" Sam mumbled.
"I was doing some research today while you were out walking, and I found a couple of sites that said that human contact helps when people are coming back from a vision. It seems to anchor them to reality." Dean began to stroke Sam's face, brushing his mouth against Sam's cheek, a kiss that seemed to mean more than Dean even knew.
He was suddenly very aware of Sam, of him as a man and not just him as a brother. He'd been stroking Sam's chest, but now he could feel the strength of muscles under his hand and he breathed a little faster. The warmth radiating off Sam's body hit his own skin and he started to sweat. Seeing Sam's lips made him lick his own and he blinked slowly, trying to put old feelings away. Those feelings wouldn't let themselves be buried again, though, like he'd done before Sam had left for Stanford, oblivious and likely uninterested.
Dean's wants pushed him to remember the site he'd come across earlier that suggested moving beyond basic human contact to something more intense, something like sex. When he'd read it, he'd scoffed, imagining scams with psychics seeking sex to stay in this realm of existence. As he lay beside a clearly exhausted Sam, however, he had to wonder if it was the deep intimacy and connection that promised to help calm Sam, drawing energy to fight from Dean. The truth was that the visions were debilitating at this point, coming on without warning and with crippling strength. If they didn't find a way to ground Sam deeply and soon, there was a very real chance that he'd take a trip to the world of his visions one day and never come back.
It was a possibility Dean wouldn't allow to happen. Even if that meant crossing lines he'd told himself he'd never cross.
"How are you doing, Sam?"
"Not feeling quite as dead as I was before."
"Got something to say to you, but I don't know the best way to do it."
"What? You know you can tell me anything."
Dean took in a deep breath. In a low voice, he said, "Want you, Sammy."
Sam turned his head and looked at him, confused but not pulling away. "What?" Dean could feel Sam's body tremble under his hand.
He nuzzled his nose and mouth into the crook of Sam's neck, starting to lick softly. "Want you. Want to be with you."
Sam pulled Dean's head from where he was nuzzling and looked deeply into his eyes, questioning. "Are you…are you sure? We've never…"
"I know," Dean replied, "but I used to think about it sometimes, before you left for Stanford. I never brought it up, because I knew it wasn't normal and with Dad around and you not being interested, I just let it go."
Sam's voice stayed soft. "You should have told me. Something this strong. You should have asked." Sam turned his head and kissed Dean gently on the lips.
"Oh, Sammy," he sighed. He deepened the kisses, wanting more of Sam, wanting to help him stay connected, to keep Sam's visions from coming back.
He rolled himself on top of Sam, hands roaming everywhere, mouth covering Sam's lips, his jaw, his neck, his shoulder. Dean felt Sam grow hard as his lips moved over him. Sam's hands wandered around Dean's back, stroking his skin and keeping him close.
Dean had been hard with only the tentative kisses and sweet glances of Sam's body from before. He slid his way down Sam's body, taking Sam's boxers with him as he began to slowly stroke Sam's cock. Sam groaned with the touch, breath hot and panting.
Without hesitation or delay, Dean put his mouth on Sam, just around the head of his brother's cock at first, not teasing but taking his time, and Sam thought he might pass out from the pleasure. Dean's hands fondled Sam's balls slowly, rolling each in his hand. Then he opened his jaw and sucked Sam as far down as he could. His hand reached down to stroke where his mouth couldn't reach as Sam thrust up, his mouth working over Sam's cock, inexperienced but intuitive.
Sam's hands ran over Dean's neck and head, fingers tangling in his brother's short hair. His hands tightened their grip, as he grew closer to his orgasm, until Dean almost felt like Sam was ripping the hair out of his head. Then Sam bucked his hips and started to come in Dean's mouth.
Dean pulled off just as Sam jerked up, cock spurting, but a little come landed on his tongue anyway. The taste wasn't one he'd experienced before and it wasn't like he'd expected - a little salt, a little sour, and a lot of Sam, wrapped up in just that one drop. Dying to taste more of him, Dean bent down to licked the fluid from where it had splashed on Sam's body.
Dean had never wanted Sam more. He faltered, not knowing how to ask Sam how much experience Sam had. "Have you ever done this, Sam?" he asked, not knowing what Sam would say. All's Dean knew is that he desperately wanted to be inside Sam, knowing Sam as intimately has he could, wanting to give all of himself to just him, just his Sammy, no one else.
Sam drew in several deep breaths. "Yes. But not many times." He gulped. "Go into my bag, and you'll find…something to help."
Dean moved as quickly as he could over to Sam's bag, searched around a little, then found the bottle of lube that Sam had been referring to. "You never know…", Sam explained.
He kissed Sam deeply as he climbed back on top of him, then he slid three fingers into Sam's mouth, urging him to suck on them. He felt his brother's mouth close around his fingers as Sam's tongue ran up and down each digit slowly. Then Dean took those wet fingers out and dragged them down Sam's body to his ass, gently pushing the tip of his first finger inside. "Tell me, Sam. You need to tell me if what I'm doing is right."
Sam moaned. "Good start."
Dean pushed his finger in deeper, exploring. He slid his second finger inside, waiting for Sam to adjust to the intrusion and with his next thrust in, he found Sam's pleasure center. He listened to the pitch of Sam's voice change as he kept hitting that spot with his fingers. "You doing okay up there, Sammy?"
"Oh, god, Dean. More. I need more."
Dean smirked at Sam's reaction, a little smug. Then he grabbed the bottle of lube and slicked up his cock before moving to enter Sam slowly.
Sam's responses became low and guttural as he pressed in, driving Dean on. He slid himself inside inch by inch and Sam's body clenched around him, making them both moan. Then he paused to let Sam relax for a moment and breathe before he started to thrust, gentle at first but getting stronger.
He leaned down to kiss Sam, one hand on Sam's hip to keep himself steady, and one hand running down Sam's side, feeling every muscle and sinew of his body. Then his thrusting became frenzied as he felt his orgasm grow, feeling his entire body tingling before he felt the sensation gather in his pelvis until he pulled his mouth from Sam's with a groan and came deep inside his brother's body.
Sam latched onto Dean's body, keeping it as close to him as he could. Dean sunk into that embrace, collapsing on Sam's chest as his thrusts subsided. Then he shifted to lay down next to Sam, holding him close and whispering "mine". "Not going anywhere, always with you", Dean thought but couldn't get those words out. Simply, "mine".
As they both found their breaths again, Dean gently guided Sam's head to face him. "I read one more thing about keeping psychics grounded." He lifted his left hand up and pulled off his silver ring. Sam's eyes grew wide as Dean took Sam's left hand and slid that ring onto his finger. "It's a truly personal talisman," Dean spoke softly. "Even when I'm not here, it'll be a part of me that you always carry with you, to help keep your head together. It should help you pull out of your vision and refocus."
Sam kissed Dean softly and leaned heavily into the pillow they were sharing, finding it hard to keep his eyes open, not because of the visions, but because he needed to sleep. "Thank you," he breathed.
Dean simply tightened his grasp and quietly said, "It's okay, Sammy. I'll protect you."
Sam nodded and yawned, curling closer to his brother as he quickly relaxed into sleep.
-----
In the end, though, it didn't matter.
By the time hell came to earth, all the visions that Dean had tried to rid from Sam's mind were coming true. Even with all the grounding tools that Dean used, even with all the love that he gave, even with the talisman, that tiny bit of himself that Sam wore day and night, Sam still had "demon" written in his DNA, running through his veins, and it was only written over more darkly after his death and Dean's desperate deal.
Sam had, of course, held his brethren at bay when the time came, Dean not dying at the end of his promised year. Sam was powerful enough to do that by then, and the crossroads demon despaired, not having Dean to toy with. No one else would ever have Dean's soul, though. Sam would never allow that gift to go to anyone. No one else was worthy.
It wasn't until he had finally killed and skinned Dean, though, that the demon in him took over fully. It was only then, when he saw his brother, dead by his hand, that the insanity of his visions returned, images, sensations, actions, wants, and needs flooding his mind with the darkness of true evil.
But it was destined, just as he was destined, to lead the armies of hell to victory on a broken, blood-stained Earth.