AU FIC 2/?
Title: Fear and Loathing 2/?
Author: Petuli
Pairings/Characters: Dean/Sam, AU fic (Sam and Dean are not related)
Rating: (NC17)
Category: eventually slash
Word Count:
Spoilers: None
Summary: Dean and Sam go searching for a vengeance demon, Dean has gay issues and Sam's a hustler
Notes/Warnings: Slash, angst, lots and lots of angst and some really dark humour
Chapter 2
They sit there in silence for a good ten minutes before either one of them speaks. And when they finally break the silence, the words seem empty somehow, hollow. Coming from a man who doesn't quite believe, but has seen and dealt with too much filth to ignore what he's facing now. Because this? Is just some new fucked up version of the same old garbage. Demons instead of humans. The fun part is where you get to kill them, and get away with it, naturally. Unless the demon gets you first. It's easier to kill a human being, sure. But there's a lot of emotional baggage that comes with taking another man's life. There's the guilt, for one. He doesn't think there's anything worse than the guilt, getting revenge and realising it's not worth it. Never was. Sam almost killed a person. Once. A long time ago. He didn't mean for anything to happen and he's been living with the guilt ever since. It was a hit and run, but he stayed. The man was in a coma and Sam stayed. He never left the room, wasn't able to. There was too much guilt, too much pain and suffering, all because of him. But the guy pulled through.
Because Sam were there to prevent the fall.
He's sobering up quickly as the words keep flowing from the stranger's mouth like someone conveniently put them there. He listens to the same ramblings without caring whether it's true, but he keeps paying attention to the man's lips and the way they move, he watches how this guy suddenly becomes so alive and animated, the warmth and energy possibly radiating from his skin, and there's warmth and something else that he doesn't pick up right away. There's a fire burning in his eyes, a light flickering dangerously when they come to rest on him, like they're searching for something. He doesn't know what the other man wants and it makes him feel uncomfortable, feeling he's being watched and weighed and there are no indications, no explanations, only this ... this tension between them. A connection about to be made, but not quite yet. And he itches to close the distance because it beats sitting here alone. Even if the man is half crazy and he's talking nonsense, there's something about the way he looks at Sam, like he's pleading with his eyes for him to listen. And Sam's always been a good listener which is something he chalks up to good genes. Right now, he can't help wonder if this Dean character ever lets his guard down ... or if he's more like Sam who doesn't know how to let the mask fall once he's learned how to put it on.
Because it's all about the Method Act.
Especially when someone takes the truth and tries to stuff it in his face like one of these really foul-tasting piece of crap burgers they serve down at those horrific diners and he's this close to puking up his guts already when the other man suddenly lets out a big exhasperated sigh that really doesn't come anywhere near defeat, it's just another way for this guy to point out the obvious. Sam's blind and he's right. End of story.
"Look Sam, I really don't have time for the whole "truth is out there" speech, so I'll just come right out and say it. Before I got here I wasn't sure what I was dealing with. I thought you were a demon, obviously not the demon that I was looking for but uh anyhows ... I was ready to come and kick your ass, but now I'm fairly certain you're innocent, all though I've been wrong before, once or twice ... ", the older man pauses and takes a deep breath of relief. Like he's been aching to get that out of his chest. Sam only watches him with eyes slightly narrowed, lips pursed.
"You wanted to kill me. That's sweet. Really, I'm so flattered. So what made you change your mind?".
The guy who's wearing a leatherjacket simply shrugs, a gesture that suits him rather well, Sam thinks and then kicks himself mentally because obviously? Lusting after someone who wants you dead (all though apparantly he's changed his mind) is the worst possible idea ever. Even so, he can't help thinking about this man, Dean, totally annoying completely crazy and obviously messed up in every possible way, but also quite possibly the most beautiful man he's ever seen and it's all kinds of wrong, given the absurdity of this situation, but the guy has a face that must be carved out by frigging aliens or something and he's fairly certain the man isn't human at all.
"Don't interupt me, kid. I strongly advice you to hear me out this time. You made a deal with a vengeance demon so you could get revenge on all those men who did you wrong, men who took advantage of you, fucked you, isn't that right, Sammy? Funny thing all your costumers ended up dead. That certainly strikes me as a little odd. At first I was convinced you were the one doing this, but if that was true, you had to be something not quite human and that wouldn't have been good for either of us, Sammy".
He scowls inwardly at the abuse of his old nickname, the nickname he's always hated, glaring death and wishing at that presise moment he really could kill with his brain ... or something. God, he's such a freak. Not that he's ever going to show this paticular side of him to anyone, ever. Besides, he had it under control. For the most of the time, anyway. He sure as hell isn't about to tell this man that he can move things (mostly small stuff) with his mind. As if the spoonbending isn't enough, the dreams he's been having lately are becoming more and more urgent and painfully realistic. Twice, they've come true and he's watched two of his best friends die.
"I was going to kill you, you know. I always trust my instingt and my instingt was telling me you were the bad guy in this story. But I don't think
it was you, Sam, not anymore. What I do think is that you're holding back some pretty valid information and as much as I get the old "don't ask, don't tell" policy, you just can't keep ignoring this. I won't let you ignore this, Sam, because something not quite human, offered you some kind of deal and ever since, death's been following you around. Now it's time to put a stop to it, and that's where I come in, Sammy."
He doesn't respond to the man's long tirade, just keeps staring off into space, trying to process everything that's been said the last hour. Dean, the demon hunter. The vengance demon. And Sam. Sure makes a nice little threesome, he thinks sarcastically, hands clutching the whiskey bottle, another curse under his breath.
"I can't do this without your help, Sam".
He looks up, momentarily, finds Deans eyes and doesn't let them ago before something clenches in his chest. Something strange and unfamiliar.
"Why the hell not?", he asks, one eyebrow arched up, several questions lingering on his face.
"Come on, psychic boy, I know you two have some weird connection going on, you seem to know her ... intimately?
Sam nods. "Assuming we're talking about the same woman, tall, pretty and a fucking gorgeous redhead she does fit your description, and her name is Micha". He says the name like it should mean something, but knows it probably doesn't mean anything for Dean other than "huh", then sets back to "bitch going down mode" and Sam for the first time since ever, is about to loose all control, and just surrender and give it all up to this weirdo, this strange bizarre man who's just so fucking beautiful it hurts to look at him and he tastes the name Dean on his lips like an ancient curse.
deandeandeandeandeanpleasedon'tdothis
"Yeah, I know her", he says quietly, not meeting Dean's gaze. "She comes to visit sometimes", and then quickly adds "when I'm asleep, that's how we communicate, she always finds me in a dream". Dean raises a perfect shaped eyebrow, but doesn't say anything and Sam continues.
"She's beautiful", he says and shrugs like he's just stating the obvious. "So much so that a guy would really start questioning his own sanity", he finishes and he hears the other man snort beside him.
"Yeah, I bet. Well, if it makes you feel any better, she's not an illusion or a figment of your imagination, she's 100% real and she's out there somewhere, doing what demons does best. Causing chaos and destruction and general confusion wherever she goes".
"So she's been the one taking care of my personal nightmares", he says, a smile tugging gently at his lips. "So do we have to kill her Dean? 'Couse she'd be kinda nice to have around".
It's the story of his life, he thinks, except it really isn't. Things have taken a weirdass turn since all this demon stuff began and he can't say he's not even the slightest bit weirded out by it, but this girl? This vengeance demon or whatever she is, he'll be damned if he lets this guy screw her over. No matter what she's done in the past. Whatever, it's not all in black and white, not all demons are nessesarily bad, are they?
"So", Sam says, clapping his hands together, feigning enthusiasm. "Roadtrip, huh?"
The grin that breaks across the older man's face is priceless.
TBC
Author: Petuli
Pairings/Characters: Dean/Sam, AU fic (Sam and Dean are not related)
Rating: (NC17)
Category: eventually slash
Word Count:
Spoilers: None
Summary: Dean and Sam go searching for a vengeance demon, Dean has gay issues and Sam's a hustler
Notes/Warnings: Slash, angst, lots and lots of angst and some really dark humour
Chapter 2
They sit there in silence for a good ten minutes before either one of them speaks. And when they finally break the silence, the words seem empty somehow, hollow. Coming from a man who doesn't quite believe, but has seen and dealt with too much filth to ignore what he's facing now. Because this? Is just some new fucked up version of the same old garbage. Demons instead of humans. The fun part is where you get to kill them, and get away with it, naturally. Unless the demon gets you first. It's easier to kill a human being, sure. But there's a lot of emotional baggage that comes with taking another man's life. There's the guilt, for one. He doesn't think there's anything worse than the guilt, getting revenge and realising it's not worth it. Never was. Sam almost killed a person. Once. A long time ago. He didn't mean for anything to happen and he's been living with the guilt ever since. It was a hit and run, but he stayed. The man was in a coma and Sam stayed. He never left the room, wasn't able to. There was too much guilt, too much pain and suffering, all because of him. But the guy pulled through.
Because Sam were there to prevent the fall.
He's sobering up quickly as the words keep flowing from the stranger's mouth like someone conveniently put them there. He listens to the same ramblings without caring whether it's true, but he keeps paying attention to the man's lips and the way they move, he watches how this guy suddenly becomes so alive and animated, the warmth and energy possibly radiating from his skin, and there's warmth and something else that he doesn't pick up right away. There's a fire burning in his eyes, a light flickering dangerously when they come to rest on him, like they're searching for something. He doesn't know what the other man wants and it makes him feel uncomfortable, feeling he's being watched and weighed and there are no indications, no explanations, only this ... this tension between them. A connection about to be made, but not quite yet. And he itches to close the distance because it beats sitting here alone. Even if the man is half crazy and he's talking nonsense, there's something about the way he looks at Sam, like he's pleading with his eyes for him to listen. And Sam's always been a good listener which is something he chalks up to good genes. Right now, he can't help wonder if this Dean character ever lets his guard down ... or if he's more like Sam who doesn't know how to let the mask fall once he's learned how to put it on.
Because it's all about the Method Act.
Especially when someone takes the truth and tries to stuff it in his face like one of these really foul-tasting piece of crap burgers they serve down at those horrific diners and he's this close to puking up his guts already when the other man suddenly lets out a big exhasperated sigh that really doesn't come anywhere near defeat, it's just another way for this guy to point out the obvious. Sam's blind and he's right. End of story.
"Look Sam, I really don't have time for the whole "truth is out there" speech, so I'll just come right out and say it. Before I got here I wasn't sure what I was dealing with. I thought you were a demon, obviously not the demon that I was looking for but uh anyhows ... I was ready to come and kick your ass, but now I'm fairly certain you're innocent, all though I've been wrong before, once or twice ... ", the older man pauses and takes a deep breath of relief. Like he's been aching to get that out of his chest. Sam only watches him with eyes slightly narrowed, lips pursed.
"You wanted to kill me. That's sweet. Really, I'm so flattered. So what made you change your mind?".
The guy who's wearing a leatherjacket simply shrugs, a gesture that suits him rather well, Sam thinks and then kicks himself mentally because obviously? Lusting after someone who wants you dead (all though apparantly he's changed his mind) is the worst possible idea ever. Even so, he can't help thinking about this man, Dean, totally annoying completely crazy and obviously messed up in every possible way, but also quite possibly the most beautiful man he's ever seen and it's all kinds of wrong, given the absurdity of this situation, but the guy has a face that must be carved out by frigging aliens or something and he's fairly certain the man isn't human at all.
"Don't interupt me, kid. I strongly advice you to hear me out this time. You made a deal with a vengeance demon so you could get revenge on all those men who did you wrong, men who took advantage of you, fucked you, isn't that right, Sammy? Funny thing all your costumers ended up dead. That certainly strikes me as a little odd. At first I was convinced you were the one doing this, but if that was true, you had to be something not quite human and that wouldn't have been good for either of us, Sammy".
He scowls inwardly at the abuse of his old nickname, the nickname he's always hated, glaring death and wishing at that presise moment he really could kill with his brain ... or something. God, he's such a freak. Not that he's ever going to show this paticular side of him to anyone, ever. Besides, he had it under control. For the most of the time, anyway. He sure as hell isn't about to tell this man that he can move things (mostly small stuff) with his mind. As if the spoonbending isn't enough, the dreams he's been having lately are becoming more and more urgent and painfully realistic. Twice, they've come true and he's watched two of his best friends die.
"I was going to kill you, you know. I always trust my instingt and my instingt was telling me you were the bad guy in this story. But I don't think
it was you, Sam, not anymore. What I do think is that you're holding back some pretty valid information and as much as I get the old "don't ask, don't tell" policy, you just can't keep ignoring this. I won't let you ignore this, Sam, because something not quite human, offered you some kind of deal and ever since, death's been following you around. Now it's time to put a stop to it, and that's where I come in, Sammy."
He doesn't respond to the man's long tirade, just keeps staring off into space, trying to process everything that's been said the last hour. Dean, the demon hunter. The vengance demon. And Sam. Sure makes a nice little threesome, he thinks sarcastically, hands clutching the whiskey bottle, another curse under his breath.
"I can't do this without your help, Sam".
He looks up, momentarily, finds Deans eyes and doesn't let them ago before something clenches in his chest. Something strange and unfamiliar.
"Why the hell not?", he asks, one eyebrow arched up, several questions lingering on his face.
"Come on, psychic boy, I know you two have some weird connection going on, you seem to know her ... intimately?
Sam nods. "Assuming we're talking about the same woman, tall, pretty and a fucking gorgeous redhead she does fit your description, and her name is Micha". He says the name like it should mean something, but knows it probably doesn't mean anything for Dean other than "huh", then sets back to "bitch going down mode" and Sam for the first time since ever, is about to loose all control, and just surrender and give it all up to this weirdo, this strange bizarre man who's just so fucking beautiful it hurts to look at him and he tastes the name Dean on his lips like an ancient curse.
deandeandeandeandeanpleasedon'tdothis
"Yeah, I know her", he says quietly, not meeting Dean's gaze. "She comes to visit sometimes", and then quickly adds "when I'm asleep, that's how we communicate, she always finds me in a dream". Dean raises a perfect shaped eyebrow, but doesn't say anything and Sam continues.
"She's beautiful", he says and shrugs like he's just stating the obvious. "So much so that a guy would really start questioning his own sanity", he finishes and he hears the other man snort beside him.
"Yeah, I bet. Well, if it makes you feel any better, she's not an illusion or a figment of your imagination, she's 100% real and she's out there somewhere, doing what demons does best. Causing chaos and destruction and general confusion wherever she goes".
"So she's been the one taking care of my personal nightmares", he says, a smile tugging gently at his lips. "So do we have to kill her Dean? 'Couse she'd be kinda nice to have around".
It's the story of his life, he thinks, except it really isn't. Things have taken a weirdass turn since all this demon stuff began and he can't say he's not even the slightest bit weirded out by it, but this girl? This vengeance demon or whatever she is, he'll be damned if he lets this guy screw her over. No matter what she's done in the past. Whatever, it's not all in black and white, not all demons are nessesarily bad, are they?
"So", Sam says, clapping his hands together, feigning enthusiasm. "Roadtrip, huh?"
The grin that breaks across the older man's face is priceless.
TBC