comment fic meme!
Following the results of the poll we took last month (don't make it easy on us or anything, guys, haha!), we've decided to hold a comment fic meme once every three months. This gives everyone time to write and prompt to their heart's content, and allows us mods to keep up with y'all. And we're starting right now!
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“Dean Winchester.”
Dean’s shoulders slumped. Dammit. “Well that’s not fair.”
The djinn did turn then, and it smiled. “This is my world.”
Dean glanced in Sam’s direction. “So I noticed.”
The djinn regarded him curiously. “And I think you know how to get out of it.”
“Do you?”
“This isn’t the first time you’ve met my kind.”
“No, it’s not.”
“So why are you wasting your time here? You can’t kill me here.”
Dean smiled coolly. “Just trying to figure out what your game is, buddy. Then I’ll kill you in the real world.”
“My game?” The djinn sounded surprised. “I’m no different from the rest of my kind, hunter.”
“Wish fulfillment,” Dean said flatly.
“Correct,” the djinn replied.
“You’re full of shit. This-”
“This,” the djinn interrupted, “is exactly what you wished for when you walked into that warehouse, Dean Winchester.”
“Fuck, no. I never wanted Sam-”
The djinn cut him off once more. “You wanted Sam to suffer for what he did, siding with a demon and starting the Apocalypse. You wanted to punish him for abandoning his family. You wanted Sam begging forgiveness on his knees for betraying you.” The genie’s voice had turned cold. “You wanted your brother to defer to you on everything. You can’t trust him to make any choices on his own since his last choice freed the Devil. And that’s exactly what you got.”
Dean opened his mouth to tell the thing it was wrong, that it had no idea what it was talking about and should shut the hell up about his brother, but he couldn’t find the words.
Because it was right.
Fake Sam stepped out of the shadows, his gun hanging limply at his side, and stopped a few yards behind the djinn. “Am I not good enough for you, Dean?” he asked, his once broken tone now matching the real Sam’s exactly. His eyes shone in that hurt way Dean knew so well. Fuck.
“I know everything is my fault and that you’re always right,” he continued. “I can’t be trusted and you have to smack me around because I deserve it. I’m tainted, an addict, and a traitor, and I’m lucky you haven’t put a bullet in my brain yet.”
“Sammy, please,” Dean whispered, horrified. Because this? This sounded exactly like his brother and the words cut into him like Alastair’s razor.
“You got what you wanted,” the djinn repeated.
“And what do you want?” Dean demanded shakily, pulling his eyes from Sam. “You’re not exactly hiding yourself or your lair from me,” he continued, his voice gaining strength. Because anger could drown out the guilt; anger he could use.
The djinn’s smile was frigid. “What makes you think you were my target, Dean?”
Dean’s eyes widened as everything clicked into place. “Sam.”
“Better hurry,” the djinn said.
But Dean was already plunging the knife into his stomach…
His eyes flew open and he instinctively grasped at his middle, but there was no pain or blood. He shook his head and looked around. He was lying on the cool floor in the middle of the warehouse, his knife three feet away. The djinn was nowhere to be seen, but Joey Marshall was still there. Dean pushed himself unsteadily to his feet, grabbed his knife, and went over to the kid. He sighed in relief when he found a faint pulse.
After a moment’s hesitation, he pulled out the IV and cut the ropes binding him. He laid the kid on the ground. “Sorry kid, but I’m kind of in a rush here,” he said, pulling out his phone. An anonymous tip should get an ambulance here quickly enough.
Dean sped from the warehouse back to the motel, making the half hour drive in fifteen. He had no idea how much of a jump the djinn had on him or why it was after Sam, but he didn’t intend to give it the chance to hurt his little brother. Sam had enough enemies and didn’t need Dean at the top of the list.
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Sam was on the floor on his back, the djinn straddling his waist with its hands around his throat. He was shoving weakly at the genie’s face, unable to dislodge the thing. The djinn’s back was to the door, but Sam’s eyes widened when Dean kicked the door in.
“I’m impressed, Dean. You made it after all,” the djinn said.
But Dean’s eyes were only for his brother. Sam’s expression shifted from surprised to defiant to scared to resigned, and Dean’s insides clenched at the confirmation of his worst fear.
This Sam was just as afraid of him as the other Sam, just keeping it inside.
Sam went limp beneath the djinn, his meek fight drained from him.
The djinn laughed, releasing its hold on the unconscious hunter. “Lucifer’s going to reward me well for this.”
“Lucifer?” Dean hissed the name like a curse. “That’s what this is about?”
The djinn twisted to look at Dean and raised an eyebrow. “Humans aren’t the only creatures affected by the Apocalypse, Winchester. Lucifer has promised protection for any creatures who side with him.”
“Of course he has,” Dean muttered before hurling the knife in one motion. The blade imbedded itself in the djinn’s chest. The genie’s eyes widened and blood spurted from his mouth before he toppled off Sam.
Dean shut the door behind him and winced when the broken bolt didn’t click shut. The manager wasn’t going to like that…or the blood and dead body in the room.
With a shrug, he kicked the djinn completely off his brother. He knelt down next to Sam and checked his pulse, thankfully finding a weak but constant beat. The djinn had wanted to take him alive, after all. Dean leaned back against the edge of Sam’s bed, eyes never leaving his brother’s lax face.
“Shit, Sammy. What have I done?”
-----
The first thing Sam felt was pain in his throat. And his chest. And his back. And his head. Okay, just about everywhere, but especially his throat. The next thing was the soft mattress beneath him; he was on a bed. But the last thing he remembered was…He opened his eyes and immediately tried to sit up, only to have his muscles scream their sharp objections. He moaned and something pushed him back down. He tried to fight it until he recognized the buzzing in his ears as a voice.
“Hey, easy there,” Dean was saying.
“Dean?” Sam croaked, grimacing at the sound of his own voice.
“Right here,” his brother said.
Sam let Dean ease him back down on the bed and coughed. He found a glass in his face and he gratefully took a long gulp of water. The cold wetness was heaven going down his shredded throat. When he’d had enough, the cup disappeared. Sam stared at the ceiling for awhile, considering the last moments he remembered before blacking out. The djinn had been choking him, threatening to take him to Lucifer, when Dean had burst into the room. There had been murder on his face and, for a moment, Sam had been sure he’d been the one the look was aimed at.
He would have rather faced Lucifer than a furious Dean.
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But the djinn had found Sam anyway, and he hadn’t been able to take care of one stupid genie on his own. He did nothing but screw up. Of course Dean would be pissed that Sam had been involved in the hunt after all the trouble he went to to keep him out of it. Sam had no defense for that and decided he’d rather get Dean’s anger out in the air than let it fester. Dean had clearly had to look after Sam once he’d passed out-once more having to fix things that Sam couldn’t take care of. With a resigned sigh, Sam finally looked at his brother.
Dean was sitting in a chair next to his bed. He was wearing the same clothes he’d had on when he’d broken the door down. He also didn’t look like he’d shaved in a few days. Sam frowned, trying to make sense of that-how long had he been out?-when he noticed that the wall behind Dean was white. The Red Rock Motel had red brick walls.
“Where are we?” Sam asked, figuring that was a safe topic.
“Motel three towns over,” Dean replied, settling back in his chair. “How’re you feeling?”
Sam frowned but Dean looked like he wanted an honest answer. “Like shit,” he said.
Dean snorted. “I’m sure. You took a pretty rough beating.” He smiled slightly. “But you sure as hell look better than the djinn.”
“You get it?”
“Yep.”
Sam nodded and they fell into an uncomfortable silence. Finally, Sam spoke. “Dean, I’m so-”
“Sam,” Dean growled, “if the rest of that sentence is ‘I’m sorry,’ just can it.” Sam shut his mouth and Dean nodded. “This isn’t your fault. You have nothing to be sorry for.”
“But…” Sam tried to protest, but Dean shook his head.
“I was the idiot that went after the djinn alone. Dad always said to take backup into even the simplest hunt.”
“Dad also said to have backup you can trust,” Sam countered. And Sam knew he was at the bottom of that list after everything he’d done.
Something unreadable crossed Dean’s face and Sam slumped further into the pillow. “I trust you, Sam.”
Sam couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Dean, you don’t have to-”
“Dammit, Sam!” Sam started and Dean rubbed a hand over his face. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine.”
“No, it’s not,” Dean replied. “God, Sammy, you’re my little brother.”
“And I betrayed you,” Sam supplied, doing his best not to flinch at the memories. “I started the Apocalypse. I know.” Boy did he know.
But Dean was shaking his head adamantly. “You made some bad choices, yeah. But this isn’t all your fault. And I can’t stand seeing that look on your face.”
Sam blinked. “What look?”
“That freaked out look!” Dean exploded, jumping to his feet. The chair clattered to the floor behind him. “Jesus, Sam. You’re afraid of me. My own little brother is afraid of me. And I’m supposed to be looking out for you.”
“I-”
“I saw it when I came into the room when the djinn had you. You were more afraid of me with a knife in my hand that the freaking monster that had its hands around your throat!” Dean was pacing up and down the side of Sam’s bed as he yelled. He suddenly stopped and sank onto the mattress at Sam’s hip. Sam tried not to flinch away at the proximity.
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“No, I get it. I deserve it.”
“No, you don’t,” Dean said. “You’re my little brother. You’re a pain in the ass, but you’re still mine.” He ran a hand through his hair, his eyes going far away. “I’ve been pissed, yeah.”
“Hurt,” Sam added for him when he seemed loath to continue. “Betrayed.”
“Yeah.” Dean shook himself and looked back to Sam. “But I would never hunt you, Sammy. Never.”
Sam’s mind went blank, like he’d overloaded on information.
“If I didn’t know you, I’d want to hunt you.”
Sam didn’t know how to react to this. It just seemed too good to be true. Could Dean really mean it? Could he dare to hope that Dean really meant it? The last time something seemed right like this, he’d gotten addicted to demon blood and opened Lucifer’s cage. He didn’t deserve what Dean was offering.
“Why?” Sam whispered.
Dean gave him a sad smile. “Because you’re my brother, moron.”
And Sam knew without a doubt that Dean meant it. “Yeah, okay.”
- Finis -
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♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥
Thank you SO SO SO SO SO SO SO MUCH for not only filling my prompt, but filling it with this AWESOMENESS. Oh my god I love it. Sam being afraid of Dean in both worlds, the serial killer awesomeness, Dean coming to a realization but it being so in character-
You rock my socks. \o/
~Nebula
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*gives them snuggles*
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You did a beautiful job with the prompt. The nightmare world was so vivid, and I wanted to wrap my arms around poor abused Sam. He was so utterly broken -- in both worlds.
Those two need to have needed a long heart-to-heart since Zachariah mangled their phone calls. Maybe they'll finally get around to it while Sam heals.
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