Dreaming in Stereo, Supernatural, Part 5
Fandom: Supernatural
Title: Dreaming in Stereo, Part 4 ( Part One here, Part Two here, Part Three here, Part Four here)
Characters/Pairing: Sam/Dean, John, Sam/Demon
Rating: overall NC-17, for graphic violence and sex, rape
Table: #1
Prompt: 067 Confused
Word Count: 2902
Summary: Time heals all wounds, but life for a Winchester doesn't wait. Sam and Dean are still working through the changes in their lives, back on the road, hunting. Nightmares of the past pave the way for nightmares of the future, and lead all three Winchesters to a showdown with the evil that started them on their path.
Warnings: Very Dark Fic. This is a follow on to "The Good Son" and "Where it Hurts" and "All for One and One for All" (A gifty fic written for my birthday by shotofjack... The overall story will involve torture and rape and extreme violence. This is likely to be at least one more chapter after this.
The first part of "The Good Son" can be found here
The first part of "Where it Hurts" can be found here
And "All for One and One for All" can be found here
This is my eighteenth ficlet for my Supernatural claim on 100_situations. Clicky for table
“Sam, wake up!”
Dean’s voice was urgent, pulling Sam from some tormented nightmare to something resembling awake. “Dean?” It was dark. Sam was disoriented, confused. “Dean?”
His hands were bound, over his head. He was on a cold floor. His face hurt, like a sunburn. Dean was beside him, squatting there, waiting. “Dean?” Sam struggled to sit up and Dean smiled.
“There you are. I thought maybe I’d pushed a little too hard.”
Sam’s eyes widened as memory flooded back in. He rolled away and struggled against the ropes. His brother’s face smirked at him as he followed. “Are you ready for more, Sammy?”
Sam swallowed and fought the rising surge of panic. “Don’t…touch me.” Sam kicked out at this thing who looked like his brother, but it only laughed with Dean’s laugh.
“But you liked it, baby. I know you did.”
Dean’s hand was on his chest now and Sam closed his eyes. “No. No.” It had stroked him to climax, using his body’s confusion against him and when he had come, it had fucked him and Sam had lost himself in a swirl of memory and fear and hatred until he’d finally fallen into the dark.
Dean, no, not Dean, straddled his body, rubbing his skin, before leaning in to kiss and nip and Sam’s lips. “Do you know why I never let you have all of me, Sammy? Do you know why I take everything you give me and give you nothing back?”
No. Sam knew it wasn’t true…Dean gave him plenty…Sam probably never could give enough back. “Its jealousy…that’s why I fuck you. That’s why I fuck with you. You came along and everything changed, Sammy…everything was perfect before you came along…”
“No.” Sam couldn’t move, only deny this thing the satisfaction of rising to his bait. He hadn’t figured it out yet, what it wanted…why it was doing this.
Dean’s face slid against his, his lips moving to Sam’s ear. “You’re hard again Sammy…does your Daddy know?”
There was a change in the voice, but Sam just screwed his eyes shut tighter. “I’m disappointed in you Sam.” It was his father’s voice. Sam swallowed hard. No…not that.. A hand closed around his cock…his father’s hand. Sam shuddered.
“Look at me.”
Involuntarily, Sam’s eyes opened. His father’s face was angry, dark and only inches from his. “Did you think you could hide it from me Sam?” Disgust contorted his features and Sam’s face burned, his eyes tearing up as he shook his head.
“You aren’t him. You aren’t him.”
John’s large hand came down and slapped him. Sam’s head snapped to the side, his head ringing. “No? You think I’m not?” He brushed his hands down Sam’s arms, tracing the prominent veins. “Look me in the face and say that Sam.” He grabbed Sam’s chin and pulled his face up, holding it as he stared into him. “You disgust me. I saw you…you know, I saw. The way you called out your brother’s name when that bastard fucked you. I heard you.”
Sam squirmed. “No…Dad…please…”
“You perverted your brother, didn’t you? Did you fuck him first? Or did you let him think it was him?” He slapped Sam again. “You did it for Garrett didn’t you…fucked your brother, with Garrett in your ass.”
Sam lay still beneath him, the fight nearly gone. He wilted under his father’s eyes, even knowing it wasn’t really John Winchester. His disappointment and anger burned into Sam’s skin, feeding on every insecurity and fear Sam had ever had.
“Of course you did.” The voice was in his ear again…in his head. Sam started to shake.
No, no, no….no…
“Hello Sam.”
Sam’s screams echoed around them, and Garrett laughed a counterpoint to them.
John drove his stolen vehicle deeper into the campus, swerving to cover as much ground and hit as many of the oncoming demons as he could. Dean had warned him that the demon was using kids, but he hadn’t expected this many. They were everywhere, from 5 year olds in pajamas to teenagers with blades, all intent on one thing, keeping them from getting to Sam.
He could feel Dean as he made more of a straight line toward the weak, but still beating beacon of Sam’s heart. His left shoulder hurt from where he’d fallen back at the house under the onslaught of three children with black eyes. His right thigh had stopped bleeding, the cut shallow but painful.
At one time in his life, nothing had been more important than killing the demon that had taken Mary. Now, they were close to doing just that, but all John could think about was finding Sam…finding him and keeping him safe…and kicking his ass for running off like that.
Dean’s heart raced as Sam’s distress ratcheted up a notch. He was having a hard time holding on to everything and his control on the wall was wavering. Soon he’d have to abandon it all together and hope he could still function…hope it didn’t give the demon more control.
He slammed on the brakes as three teenagers in cheerleader uniforms stepped in front of him. Their black eyes blinked at him as he revved the engine. “That’s just creepy,” he muttered, raising a gun. The girl in the middle smiled at him. Dean’s mouth twitch and he pulled the trigger, blowing out the windshield. His next shot took the middle girl in the forehead and her mouth opened in a surprised “O”.
“Not your average gun, sweetie.” He squeezed off two more rounds, and the other two fell beside her. Shaking his head, Dean backed the car up and took a different street. He had no delusions that his blessed weaponry would do more than wound an upper level demon, but these lackeys seemed to be affectively handled with them, which meant he should be able to get in to the big boys…but that’s where the fight would really start…where he was going to have to be everything he wasn’t…everything he never had been…and more.
“Do you know where you are Sam?” the voice asked. Sam was hyperventilating, his breath hissing in and out of his mouth through clenched teeth. Garrett’s smile was pleased. “I chose this place because it’s special. We have history here.”
Dean…I need you Dean Sam couldn’t feel his brother. He’d dreamed they were coming…but he was alone.
That hand was on him again, claiming him. “I brought you here Sam. This is where I marked you…where I made you mine.”
Sam shook, his body quivering. “No.” he whispered it fiercely. That big hand fell on his thigh, tracing the W.
“You covered it…but I’m still under here, aren’t I…always will be…burned into your flesh.”
“You’re dead.” Sam dared a glance up, but looked away when Garrett squatted beside him.
“Am I?” His big hand was gentle as it brushed Sam’s hair from his forehead. “Are you sure?”
“Dad killed you.”
“Did he?” Garrett leaned in close. “How would you know, Sam? You were unconscious. You left the clean up to your father…even after everything I did to you, you couldn’t kill me. Do you know why?”
Sam’s face contorted as Garrett’s smiled at him. “Because you know I own you…you know how much I want to take care of you and keep you…you want that, don’t you Sam?”
Garrett’s hands petted him, over the expanse of his chest, down his thigh. No…no…no…Dean…Dad…
“Do you have any idea how many demons stand between them and us?” Garrett stood, looking down at Sam with disdain. “They’ll be dead before they can even get out of their cars.”
Garrett paced away as Sam drifted in the clouds of confusion. This thing wasn’t Garrett any more than he was Dean or John or Jess…his lies dripped with truth…cut into the tender flesh of Sam’s insecurities and doubts, just as easily as Garrett had his skin.
The room was dark, dirty…but he recognized it. The pedestal that had been his prison lay broken a few feet away. The floor was still stained with his blood. Idly he realized he was laying roughly in the same space he had when Garrett had first raped him. Unconsciously, he crawled closer to the wall, drawing his legs up closer to his body.
Sam started when he saw her, the little girl from his vision. Dark blond hair dusted her petite shoulders, her skin pale like porcelain. She cocked her head as she regarded him, her eyes a strange gold. The air in the room was cold and he could feel the hair on his skin stand up.
Time seemed to stop as she held his gaze, holding him frozen. Her lips never moved, but voices filtered through his daze. “He is stronger than I thought…still.”
“I will get you what you want.”
Her head quirked and it seemed that she was somehow looking at the creature that looked like Garrett and at Sam at the same time. “I am beginning to have my doubts.”
“If I push him too fast, he could destroy himself…and that would do you no good.”
“Perhaps that is inevitable.” She came closer without seeming to move and squatted beside Sam. “It would bring me pleasure…to watch him die, if he isn’t going to break.”
“He’ll break.” Garrett’s body squatted opposite the girl. “You just keep the other two off of me while I work.”
Her smile was eerie. “Don’t worry about them. I’m going to enjoy watching them bleed.” Her tiny hand moved toward Sam’s chest. “Right now, I want to hear him scream.” Her hand connected with the skin just under Sam’s heart and the smell of burning flesh filled the room. Sam screamed and writhed under her until she stood, letting him go. His vision swam and he dove toward the darkness, seeking refuge in unconsciousness, even if he knew it wouldn’t last long.
Dean stopped the Impala a block and a half from the abandoned building where he had found Sam after 6 days of searching. The area around the building was filled with children and animals and he couldn’t guess what else. He didn’t even have time to get out of the car before he was firing at the nearest of the oncoming demons, tossing his bag onto his back and breaking into a dead run.
He didn’t even bother looking or aiming, just kept his hands moving, guns firing from each hand as he ran. “So much for a surprise attack. Guess I’ll have to settle for a dramatic entrance.” Dean muttered as he dropped the empty guns and reached in his bag for more. He ducked the black dog that flew at him, not sparing time to wonder if it was some pet gone Cujo or an actual Black Dog as he rolled into the legs of three high school age girls in nightgowns. “When sleepovers go bad,” he thought to himself, throwing out punches to take them down.
He was beginning to see the differences in the demons around him. Some had taken over living children. Some had re-animated dead ones. The dead ones were easier. They were just demons in meat suits. The others…there were still innocent kids in there. Dean pulled free of two boys and got moving again. Could use that distraction about now, Dad
Dean heard the engine whining, sounding like it wouldn’t last much longer. Already on it, Son. The Mark IV came flying at them, Dean charging out of its way at full steam while John plowed into those nearest his son. Dean didn’t look back as he ran for the building, shooting at everything that moved between him and Sam.
He was already latched on to his father more strongly than the day to day connection he and Sam shared. It’s going to get rough.
He felt John’s grimace as he wrenched the car around. Stay in the car as long as you can. It will give you some protection.
Get your brother. Take what you need. Don’t worry about me.
Yes, sir.
Dean leapt over the dog he dropped with a shot to the head, and rolled into the dark, and reasonably more quiet, lobby of the abandoned building.
“Come on Sammy, wake up.”
Sam groaned and curled onto his side. Dean’s body was warm as it curled up behind him, his arm slipping around Sam to hold him closer. “Open your eyes, I have a present for you.”
Sam shifted uncomfortably, his body protesting. “Dean? What’s going on?”
Dean tickled him until he opened his eyes. “What time is it?”
“Still dark.”
“Dude, let me sleep.”
“Come on Sam, its important.”
“What, Dean? What’s so important you had to wake me up at this hour?”
Dean moved so that he was straddled on top of his brother with a floppy grin that made Sam think he had lost his mind. “This.” His kiss was tender, his tongue tasting of coffee and pancake syrup.
Sam was breathless. “What is this?” he whispered.
Dean’s mouth hovered over Sam’s. “Everything,” he whispered onto Sam’s tongue before he kissed him again. “Everything Sammy.”
“Do you know what day it is, Sam?” Garrett dragged his nails over Sam’s skin to draw him back to consciousness. His smile was sickening and Sam’s confusion seemed to amuse him. “One year ago today I took you. I brought you here.” His hand closed over Sam’s cock. “I fucked you. I made you mine.”
Sam’s eyes rolled away from Garrett’s…focused on the broken pedestal. This wasn’t Garrett. No, Garrett wouldn’t have stood for the broken plaster on his floor…or the dirt scattered around them. “More than that, Sam. Today is the anniversary of the day your mother died. Did you know that?”
Sam’s eyes snapped back. Garrett’s hand moved over his skin and as it did, old wounds opened, the marks of his riding crop and whip cracking open and bleeding. Sam didn’t scream. There wasn’t any scream left in him. He hurt…his whole body, his soul…more pain simply fell in as part of the cacophony that dulled him into a stupor. Garrett turned away and when he turned back, he had become John again. “She died because of you. It came for you…it wanted you…I should have let it have you then.”
Sam blinked up at his father’s face, but the anger and disappointment he saw there was completely disparate to the feeling of love and pride he was getting…that…his father was sending. Sam’s eyes closed and his head turned away, trying to reach out for it, to cling to the warmth. The feeling of his father wrapped around him, but before Sam could do anything to respond, there was pain, sharp pain in his leg. Sam opened his eyes, disoriented and unsure of himself. His father’s hands were on his shoulders, shaking him…but… “Not him.”
“No, I’m really not.”
It stood, and somehow Sam followed, dragged by some invisible hand to his feet and pinned to the wall. “I’m getting tired of this.”
Sam blinked slowly, his mind moving sluggishly as he watched his father become Dean again. “Sammy, I want to help you. You can’t possibly hold out much longer. Its going to kill you.”
The door was open beyond it, and Sam could see her watching…it watching, her gold eyes locked on his green ones. In them he could finally see what it was it wanted. “If you give it up freely, we will spare their lives.” Dean’s voice said, turning from the girl to Sam.
“It can all be over, baby. Nothing will ever hurt you again.” Dean’s hand was gentle on his face, wiping away tears Sam wasn’t even aware he was crying.
“Dean…it hurts…”
“I know, baby. I know…but we can end it. Make it stop.”
“So tired.” Sam’s head slumped forward, pressing into the hand at his cheek.
Dean dropped his bag, empty and useless and bolted down the hall he knew would take him to his brother. Behind him, his father drove the Mark IV into the building, showering Dean with shattered glass and blood. He pushed Dean forward and climbed out of the car. Gunfire spurred him on, like a drum beat he could follow all the way to…Dean screeched to a stop as he came face to face with the little girl, her yellow eyes betraying her less than girl-like reality.
Beyond her the door opened on that room and Sam pressed against the wall, a dark figure between them. “Well, well…this is unexpected,” the girl said, her head turning toward Dean. He flew back a few steps, then dug his feet in. The pressure built and the girl’s look changed from one of disinterest to one of irritation. “Dean Winchester.”
Dean smiled. “The one and only.”
“What do you think you’re going to accomplish here?” She glided toward him and Dean forced himself a step closer.
“You know…the usual Winchester tricks. Kill the demon, rescue the brother. Go home happy.”
She smiled. “You are unarmed. Your brother is seconds from giving himself over to me. You are not strong enough to deal with me.”
She pushed harder and he was forced to take a step back. “Normally, I’d have to agree with you. But not today.” He arched an eyebrow and pushed back against her.
Her eyebrow climbed in response. “I may have underestimated you, Dean.”
“You have no idea, bitch.”
Title: Dreaming in Stereo, Part 4 ( Part One here, Part Two here, Part Three here, Part Four here)
Characters/Pairing: Sam/Dean, John, Sam/Demon
Rating: overall NC-17, for graphic violence and sex, rape
Table: #1
Prompt: 067 Confused
Word Count: 2902
Summary: Time heals all wounds, but life for a Winchester doesn't wait. Sam and Dean are still working through the changes in their lives, back on the road, hunting. Nightmares of the past pave the way for nightmares of the future, and lead all three Winchesters to a showdown with the evil that started them on their path.
Warnings: Very Dark Fic. This is a follow on to "The Good Son" and "Where it Hurts" and "All for One and One for All" (A gifty fic written for my birthday by shotofjack... The overall story will involve torture and rape and extreme violence. This is likely to be at least one more chapter after this.
The first part of "The Good Son" can be found here
The first part of "Where it Hurts" can be found here
And "All for One and One for All" can be found here
This is my eighteenth ficlet for my Supernatural claim on 100_situations. Clicky for table
“Sam, wake up!”
Dean’s voice was urgent, pulling Sam from some tormented nightmare to something resembling awake. “Dean?” It was dark. Sam was disoriented, confused. “Dean?”
His hands were bound, over his head. He was on a cold floor. His face hurt, like a sunburn. Dean was beside him, squatting there, waiting. “Dean?” Sam struggled to sit up and Dean smiled.
“There you are. I thought maybe I’d pushed a little too hard.”
Sam’s eyes widened as memory flooded back in. He rolled away and struggled against the ropes. His brother’s face smirked at him as he followed. “Are you ready for more, Sammy?”
Sam swallowed and fought the rising surge of panic. “Don’t…touch me.” Sam kicked out at this thing who looked like his brother, but it only laughed with Dean’s laugh.
“But you liked it, baby. I know you did.”
Dean’s hand was on his chest now and Sam closed his eyes. “No. No.” It had stroked him to climax, using his body’s confusion against him and when he had come, it had fucked him and Sam had lost himself in a swirl of memory and fear and hatred until he’d finally fallen into the dark.
Dean, no, not Dean, straddled his body, rubbing his skin, before leaning in to kiss and nip and Sam’s lips. “Do you know why I never let you have all of me, Sammy? Do you know why I take everything you give me and give you nothing back?”
No. Sam knew it wasn’t true…Dean gave him plenty…Sam probably never could give enough back. “Its jealousy…that’s why I fuck you. That’s why I fuck with you. You came along and everything changed, Sammy…everything was perfect before you came along…”
“No.” Sam couldn’t move, only deny this thing the satisfaction of rising to his bait. He hadn’t figured it out yet, what it wanted…why it was doing this.
Dean’s face slid against his, his lips moving to Sam’s ear. “You’re hard again Sammy…does your Daddy know?”
There was a change in the voice, but Sam just screwed his eyes shut tighter. “I’m disappointed in you Sam.” It was his father’s voice. Sam swallowed hard. No…not that.. A hand closed around his cock…his father’s hand. Sam shuddered.
“Look at me.”
Involuntarily, Sam’s eyes opened. His father’s face was angry, dark and only inches from his. “Did you think you could hide it from me Sam?” Disgust contorted his features and Sam’s face burned, his eyes tearing up as he shook his head.
“You aren’t him. You aren’t him.”
John’s large hand came down and slapped him. Sam’s head snapped to the side, his head ringing. “No? You think I’m not?” He brushed his hands down Sam’s arms, tracing the prominent veins. “Look me in the face and say that Sam.” He grabbed Sam’s chin and pulled his face up, holding it as he stared into him. “You disgust me. I saw you…you know, I saw. The way you called out your brother’s name when that bastard fucked you. I heard you.”
Sam squirmed. “No…Dad…please…”
“You perverted your brother, didn’t you? Did you fuck him first? Or did you let him think it was him?” He slapped Sam again. “You did it for Garrett didn’t you…fucked your brother, with Garrett in your ass.”
Sam lay still beneath him, the fight nearly gone. He wilted under his father’s eyes, even knowing it wasn’t really John Winchester. His disappointment and anger burned into Sam’s skin, feeding on every insecurity and fear Sam had ever had.
“Of course you did.” The voice was in his ear again…in his head. Sam started to shake.
No, no, no….no…
“Hello Sam.”
Sam’s screams echoed around them, and Garrett laughed a counterpoint to them.
John drove his stolen vehicle deeper into the campus, swerving to cover as much ground and hit as many of the oncoming demons as he could. Dean had warned him that the demon was using kids, but he hadn’t expected this many. They were everywhere, from 5 year olds in pajamas to teenagers with blades, all intent on one thing, keeping them from getting to Sam.
He could feel Dean as he made more of a straight line toward the weak, but still beating beacon of Sam’s heart. His left shoulder hurt from where he’d fallen back at the house under the onslaught of three children with black eyes. His right thigh had stopped bleeding, the cut shallow but painful.
At one time in his life, nothing had been more important than killing the demon that had taken Mary. Now, they were close to doing just that, but all John could think about was finding Sam…finding him and keeping him safe…and kicking his ass for running off like that.
Dean’s heart raced as Sam’s distress ratcheted up a notch. He was having a hard time holding on to everything and his control on the wall was wavering. Soon he’d have to abandon it all together and hope he could still function…hope it didn’t give the demon more control.
He slammed on the brakes as three teenagers in cheerleader uniforms stepped in front of him. Their black eyes blinked at him as he revved the engine. “That’s just creepy,” he muttered, raising a gun. The girl in the middle smiled at him. Dean’s mouth twitch and he pulled the trigger, blowing out the windshield. His next shot took the middle girl in the forehead and her mouth opened in a surprised “O”.
“Not your average gun, sweetie.” He squeezed off two more rounds, and the other two fell beside her. Shaking his head, Dean backed the car up and took a different street. He had no delusions that his blessed weaponry would do more than wound an upper level demon, but these lackeys seemed to be affectively handled with them, which meant he should be able to get in to the big boys…but that’s where the fight would really start…where he was going to have to be everything he wasn’t…everything he never had been…and more.
“Do you know where you are Sam?” the voice asked. Sam was hyperventilating, his breath hissing in and out of his mouth through clenched teeth. Garrett’s smile was pleased. “I chose this place because it’s special. We have history here.”
Dean…I need you Dean Sam couldn’t feel his brother. He’d dreamed they were coming…but he was alone.
That hand was on him again, claiming him. “I brought you here Sam. This is where I marked you…where I made you mine.”
Sam shook, his body quivering. “No.” he whispered it fiercely. That big hand fell on his thigh, tracing the W.
“You covered it…but I’m still under here, aren’t I…always will be…burned into your flesh.”
“You’re dead.” Sam dared a glance up, but looked away when Garrett squatted beside him.
“Am I?” His big hand was gentle as it brushed Sam’s hair from his forehead. “Are you sure?”
“Dad killed you.”
“Did he?” Garrett leaned in close. “How would you know, Sam? You were unconscious. You left the clean up to your father…even after everything I did to you, you couldn’t kill me. Do you know why?”
Sam’s face contorted as Garrett’s smiled at him. “Because you know I own you…you know how much I want to take care of you and keep you…you want that, don’t you Sam?”
Garrett’s hands petted him, over the expanse of his chest, down his thigh. No…no…no…Dean…Dad…
“Do you have any idea how many demons stand between them and us?” Garrett stood, looking down at Sam with disdain. “They’ll be dead before they can even get out of their cars.”
Garrett paced away as Sam drifted in the clouds of confusion. This thing wasn’t Garrett any more than he was Dean or John or Jess…his lies dripped with truth…cut into the tender flesh of Sam’s insecurities and doubts, just as easily as Garrett had his skin.
The room was dark, dirty…but he recognized it. The pedestal that had been his prison lay broken a few feet away. The floor was still stained with his blood. Idly he realized he was laying roughly in the same space he had when Garrett had first raped him. Unconsciously, he crawled closer to the wall, drawing his legs up closer to his body.
Sam started when he saw her, the little girl from his vision. Dark blond hair dusted her petite shoulders, her skin pale like porcelain. She cocked her head as she regarded him, her eyes a strange gold. The air in the room was cold and he could feel the hair on his skin stand up.
Time seemed to stop as she held his gaze, holding him frozen. Her lips never moved, but voices filtered through his daze. “He is stronger than I thought…still.”
“I will get you what you want.”
Her head quirked and it seemed that she was somehow looking at the creature that looked like Garrett and at Sam at the same time. “I am beginning to have my doubts.”
“If I push him too fast, he could destroy himself…and that would do you no good.”
“Perhaps that is inevitable.” She came closer without seeming to move and squatted beside Sam. “It would bring me pleasure…to watch him die, if he isn’t going to break.”
“He’ll break.” Garrett’s body squatted opposite the girl. “You just keep the other two off of me while I work.”
Her smile was eerie. “Don’t worry about them. I’m going to enjoy watching them bleed.” Her tiny hand moved toward Sam’s chest. “Right now, I want to hear him scream.” Her hand connected with the skin just under Sam’s heart and the smell of burning flesh filled the room. Sam screamed and writhed under her until she stood, letting him go. His vision swam and he dove toward the darkness, seeking refuge in unconsciousness, even if he knew it wouldn’t last long.
Dean stopped the Impala a block and a half from the abandoned building where he had found Sam after 6 days of searching. The area around the building was filled with children and animals and he couldn’t guess what else. He didn’t even have time to get out of the car before he was firing at the nearest of the oncoming demons, tossing his bag onto his back and breaking into a dead run.
He didn’t even bother looking or aiming, just kept his hands moving, guns firing from each hand as he ran. “So much for a surprise attack. Guess I’ll have to settle for a dramatic entrance.” Dean muttered as he dropped the empty guns and reached in his bag for more. He ducked the black dog that flew at him, not sparing time to wonder if it was some pet gone Cujo or an actual Black Dog as he rolled into the legs of three high school age girls in nightgowns. “When sleepovers go bad,” he thought to himself, throwing out punches to take them down.
He was beginning to see the differences in the demons around him. Some had taken over living children. Some had re-animated dead ones. The dead ones were easier. They were just demons in meat suits. The others…there were still innocent kids in there. Dean pulled free of two boys and got moving again. Could use that distraction about now, Dad
Dean heard the engine whining, sounding like it wouldn’t last much longer. Already on it, Son. The Mark IV came flying at them, Dean charging out of its way at full steam while John plowed into those nearest his son. Dean didn’t look back as he ran for the building, shooting at everything that moved between him and Sam.
He was already latched on to his father more strongly than the day to day connection he and Sam shared. It’s going to get rough.
He felt John’s grimace as he wrenched the car around. Stay in the car as long as you can. It will give you some protection.
Get your brother. Take what you need. Don’t worry about me.
Yes, sir.
Dean leapt over the dog he dropped with a shot to the head, and rolled into the dark, and reasonably more quiet, lobby of the abandoned building.
“Come on Sammy, wake up.”
Sam groaned and curled onto his side. Dean’s body was warm as it curled up behind him, his arm slipping around Sam to hold him closer. “Open your eyes, I have a present for you.”
Sam shifted uncomfortably, his body protesting. “Dean? What’s going on?”
Dean tickled him until he opened his eyes. “What time is it?”
“Still dark.”
“Dude, let me sleep.”
“Come on Sam, its important.”
“What, Dean? What’s so important you had to wake me up at this hour?”
Dean moved so that he was straddled on top of his brother with a floppy grin that made Sam think he had lost his mind. “This.” His kiss was tender, his tongue tasting of coffee and pancake syrup.
Sam was breathless. “What is this?” he whispered.
Dean’s mouth hovered over Sam’s. “Everything,” he whispered onto Sam’s tongue before he kissed him again. “Everything Sammy.”
“Do you know what day it is, Sam?” Garrett dragged his nails over Sam’s skin to draw him back to consciousness. His smile was sickening and Sam’s confusion seemed to amuse him. “One year ago today I took you. I brought you here.” His hand closed over Sam’s cock. “I fucked you. I made you mine.”
Sam’s eyes rolled away from Garrett’s…focused on the broken pedestal. This wasn’t Garrett. No, Garrett wouldn’t have stood for the broken plaster on his floor…or the dirt scattered around them. “More than that, Sam. Today is the anniversary of the day your mother died. Did you know that?”
Sam’s eyes snapped back. Garrett’s hand moved over his skin and as it did, old wounds opened, the marks of his riding crop and whip cracking open and bleeding. Sam didn’t scream. There wasn’t any scream left in him. He hurt…his whole body, his soul…more pain simply fell in as part of the cacophony that dulled him into a stupor. Garrett turned away and when he turned back, he had become John again. “She died because of you. It came for you…it wanted you…I should have let it have you then.”
Sam blinked up at his father’s face, but the anger and disappointment he saw there was completely disparate to the feeling of love and pride he was getting…that…his father was sending. Sam’s eyes closed and his head turned away, trying to reach out for it, to cling to the warmth. The feeling of his father wrapped around him, but before Sam could do anything to respond, there was pain, sharp pain in his leg. Sam opened his eyes, disoriented and unsure of himself. His father’s hands were on his shoulders, shaking him…but… “Not him.”
“No, I’m really not.”
It stood, and somehow Sam followed, dragged by some invisible hand to his feet and pinned to the wall. “I’m getting tired of this.”
Sam blinked slowly, his mind moving sluggishly as he watched his father become Dean again. “Sammy, I want to help you. You can’t possibly hold out much longer. Its going to kill you.”
The door was open beyond it, and Sam could see her watching…it watching, her gold eyes locked on his green ones. In them he could finally see what it was it wanted. “If you give it up freely, we will spare their lives.” Dean’s voice said, turning from the girl to Sam.
“It can all be over, baby. Nothing will ever hurt you again.” Dean’s hand was gentle on his face, wiping away tears Sam wasn’t even aware he was crying.
“Dean…it hurts…”
“I know, baby. I know…but we can end it. Make it stop.”
“So tired.” Sam’s head slumped forward, pressing into the hand at his cheek.
Dean dropped his bag, empty and useless and bolted down the hall he knew would take him to his brother. Behind him, his father drove the Mark IV into the building, showering Dean with shattered glass and blood. He pushed Dean forward and climbed out of the car. Gunfire spurred him on, like a drum beat he could follow all the way to…Dean screeched to a stop as he came face to face with the little girl, her yellow eyes betraying her less than girl-like reality.
Beyond her the door opened on that room and Sam pressed against the wall, a dark figure between them. “Well, well…this is unexpected,” the girl said, her head turning toward Dean. He flew back a few steps, then dug his feet in. The pressure built and the girl’s look changed from one of disinterest to one of irritation. “Dean Winchester.”
Dean smiled. “The one and only.”
“What do you think you’re going to accomplish here?” She glided toward him and Dean forced himself a step closer.
“You know…the usual Winchester tricks. Kill the demon, rescue the brother. Go home happy.”
She smiled. “You are unarmed. Your brother is seconds from giving himself over to me. You are not strong enough to deal with me.”
She pushed harder and he was forced to take a step back. “Normally, I’d have to agree with you. But not today.” He arched an eyebrow and pushed back against her.
Her eyebrow climbed in response. “I may have underestimated you, Dean.”
“You have no idea, bitch.”