Fic: Inoculation of Two Souls 3/3 (Supernatural)
Title: Inosculation of Two Souls
Author: rirren
Fandom: Supernatural
Rating: NC-17
Characters: Adam, Sam
Pairing: Sam/Adam
Word Count: ~7,200
Genre: angst, dark, hurt/comfort
Content notes: noncon, bad guys made them do it, codependency, mental instability, unhealthy relationships, sleep deprivation, self-harm
Summary: Trapped together for centuries in the cage, Sam and Adam wrap around each other like inosculating branches of two different trees.
Author's Note:
Thank you so much to fioreitaliano and Alyndra for their cheerleading and alpha reading. I wouldn't have been able to finish this fic without them, let alone to such a length. And thanks to Alyndra for also doing a great job beta reading--without their help this fic would have been much shorter, more bareboned, and possibly never posted at all.
Written for this kink meme prompt.
Back to chapter 2
- - -
He doesn't slip back into dreams that night. Sitting on the bed with its soft soft covers seems to pull his mind towards sleep, and he has several close calls where he suddenly snaps back to discover he's tilting dangerously, before he gets up. He stands in the corner of the room, the wall proving an effective deterrent when he hits his head on it when drifting off.
When it's light again his mind feels like it's full of wasps, and his skin is melting, but he survived the darkness without falling into dreams.
It doesn't work the next night. His body is so exhausted that the wall feels strangely comfortable. He must have only been gone for a couple of heartbeats but he wakes up that night in a standing position with his head resting against it, and Lucifer's mocking voice ringing in his ears. He throws his head forward violently, hitting the wall with a smack that dents it a little. Stinging, fresh pain explodes behind his eyes, and the pounding headache keeps him awake for the rest of the night.
Things start to feel unreal in the morning. His eyes can't focus and keep watering; he feels like he's walking through melting slush-his legs numb and unresponsive. He can't concentrate on any of the conversations Bobby directs at him or Sam, his head filling up with whispering and hissing. He sees things out of the corner of his eyes, shining smudges of air that disappear when he looks them straight on. He can't tell if this is Lucifer breaking through, or the illusion breaking down.
Bobby fusses over Adam when he steps into the bright light of the bathroom. Adam just blinks at him until Bobby picks up a shiny object off the wall-mirror, his minds supplies to him-and he stares at the reflection of a beautiful bruise blossoming on his forehead. He smiles and pokes at the delicate blending of magenta into blue on his skin, ignoring Bobby's questions of how it happened.
There is a horrified yell right by his ear, and something smacks the mirror out of Bobby's hand, shattering it on the floor. Adam gapes, and when Sam sinks to the ground, whimpering Lucifer's name, he runs over, through the piercing pain in his feet.
Adam goes to hold Sam, but Sam is curled up, forearms up protecting his head, and he jerks back when Adam tries to tug at them. Bobby moves in, speaking to Sam in a low, gentle voice.
Adam stands up, looks around the bathroom. There's nothing there but he can't stop his breath coming quicker or the pinpricks lighting up all over his body. His eyes catch on the shards of the mirror on the floor-he remembers what a mirror does, it's only reflections in there-but there's a glimpse of Sam's brown hair in the biggest shard by his feet and suddenly he's not so sure.
He snatches it up-the skin on his palm splits smoothly-and throws it against the wall, smashing it into tiny pieces. He does the rest for the other shards on the floor, until it's a powder of sharp light, and Bobby is yelling at him What the hell are you doing?.
He runs out of the room, door hitting the wall with a bang, and flies down the stairs in two leaps. His head is buzzing as he tears all the mirrors from the walls he can find, anything reflective, he can't leave any gap for Lucifer to get through.
He stands panting when it's done, looking around at the dusting of glass like snowfall. He doesn't fight back when Dean grabs him from behind.
Dean grumbles at them while he's fixing them up, but the satisfied feeling of victory doesn't leave Adam for a while. The mirrors are gone, that's another way they've foiled Lucifer. They just need to keep from falling asleep now.
He needs string threaded through his palm, Sam as well, and shards of mirror removed from the soles of Adam's feet. That's the best part. The shards are deep inside, and Dean needs to use something long and metal to pull them all out. He lies on the couch with his feet up, writhing and gasping at the sharp pain from nerves deep in the muscle. Sam holds his hand the whole time. When it's over he relaxes against the couch, skin damp with sweat, and smiles up at Sam. His mind feels clear and fresh, and most importantly, like he's not going to fall asleep.
They want to take Sam and Adam outside again. Adam clings to Sam as they're lead to the door, but he panics when they open it, at the bright expanse of green and blue out there that could be hiding anything. He pulls Sam back by the hand until they're crouched in a corner, and he can see anything that might come at them. Dean and Bobby look worried and talk together in hushed voices before leaving the room, but it washes over Adam; the only thing he can concentrate on is Sam's warmth next to him and his hand squeezing his tightly.
"We're out. We're out, right?" he whispers to Sam.
Sam murmurs back, "I'm here," and squeezes his hand tight enough that pain radiates up his arm.
Adam gasps and pulls his hand out of Sam's grip just enough that he can pull back the bandage. He grabs Sam's hand, and pulls it to him, presses those fingers into the wound.
"There. Press on it, really hard, please."
Sam's thumbs brushes against the string threaded in his palm, tugging on it and sending a flicker of pain through the wound. He digs his thumb into the cut, fresh blood welling up around it. Adam's eyes flutter shut and he leans against Sam, who tucks him into his body, shielding him.
He lets Sam touch him until his whole body is shivering with pain and then he grabs Sam's hand, and clenches his free hand around it, fingernails slipping under the bandage and into the cuts, feeling warm liquid seep under his fingernails. Sam lets out a low surprised grunt.
"See," Adam whispers. "We can stay awake like this."
When Dean comes back into the room with their smoothies, their bandages are back on and the blood is sucked from their fingers.
- - -
Adam keeps worrying away at the wound through the day. It keeps his mind sharp but he doesn't have the energy to do anything except sit there, his mind zoning out of noticing anything except the comforting presence of Sam. He reaches out to Sam and scratches away at his wound when they're left on their own and Sam does the same back.
He's rubbing his own bandage with his thumb when he hears a yell.
"Stop that! What the hell are you doing?"
Adam blinks up at Dean, shying away from the angry man in front of him. Dean has Sam's palm in his hand; he peels back the bandage, revealing the torn skin underneath. Blood drips onto the floor and Dean tries to mop it up with the cloth. Sam tries to pull his hand away but Dean holds it firmly until Sam gives up.
"Dean..." says Sam.
"Sam, are you-are you doing this to yourself?"
Sam doesn't answer. Dean lets go of Sam and brings one hand to his mouth, accidentally smearing blood over his face.
"Why..." he says in a lost voice, before grabbing Adam's hand suddenly, ripping off his bandage. He stares at Adam's palm for a second. "Both of you..." he starts to say before barking out a laugh. "Jesus Christ. Do you know how hard I worked to get you back, Sam? And you're just ... I'm trying my best to keep you alive and safe, but I can't-I need you to fight too."
"I'm sorry," says Sam, in a tiny voice.
"This could get infected. I just got you back, and if you die from something as stupid as this-" His voice trails off, and he reaches for Sam's hand, trying to wrap the bandage around it, pull the skin back together. "You know it's dangerous, right? It's-you could die, okay?"
Sam doesn't say anything, keeps his head down, his hair covering his face. Dean shakes Sam's hand roughly. "You know, right? You know?"
There's no response and Dean lets Sam's hand drop. Adam puts his arm around Sam as Dean backs away, running his hand through his hair.
"It doesn't matter if you don't understand," he says finally. "You can't hurt yourself, okay? I'll be upset if you do."
He leaves the room and Sam starts to take in deep, shuddering breaths. Adam curls in closer.
- - -
Dean puts new bandages on them again, threads the skin together on their palms. Sam is cowed enough that he doesn't try touching his hand again, obeying Dean's orders, and something inside Adam whispers, how far does Sam's loyalty to Dean go? Did Dean say something? Is this why Sam hasn't touched him like that, hasn't even tried to sleep with Adam this whole time?
Adam moves onto more subtle methods of staying awake: gnawing away at the skin on the inside of his cheek and swallowing the blood. He doesn't have to listen to Dean. He's not Adam's brother, and he's not Lucifer or Michael. What does it matter if they hurt themselves? Why do they have to control everything Sam and Adam do?
When it's time for the evening routine Adam tries rebelling, and refuses to brush his teeth. Dean just ignores him and Bobby makes an effort before giving up. Adam grins to himself in his room in the dark but that night is worse than any so far.
Everything he tries: standing up, hitting his head, scratching up his skin, is almost useless. Everything in his body is pulling him towards that other world, the pain only a minor pinprick in the overwhelming soft blanket of sleep that is smothering him. During the night he suddenly finds himself on the floor with no idea how he got there, his heart pounding and the after-image of a snowy landscape flashing in his eyes.
He tries sneaking out of his room, he needs Sam, but Sam's brother is sitting there, a shadowy figure on a chair. He shakes his head silently and Adam is so rattled, unsure if it's Dean or Michael sitting there, that he creeps back into his room and cries silently. He takes up his usual chant, whispers triquetrum pisiform trapezium into the silence until it's light outside.
When he's let out of his room he runs to Sam, buries his face in Sam's chest, and stays there until Bobby ushers them into the bathroom. Sam's face is pale and blotchy, dark circles under his eyes, and his skin tight, like his skull is pushing its way out of his face. Adam suspects he looks the same.
Dean and Bobby try to talk to them, they show them things with pictures on them, beautiful colors, with a story to go along with the images, but he can't concentrate. His hearing is muffled, and constantly running in the background is the tight crunch of footsteps in snow.
It takes Adam a while to realize that Sam is muttering to himself, curled up with his hands held in front of his face, like he's whispering to something in them. He jerks violently when Adam touches him, and for a second his eyes focus on Adam before his gaze is lost, turned somewhere inward. Adam sits as close as he can to Sam without touching him, and blinks his dry eyes rapidly, because what is he meant to do if Sam isn't here with him.
Sam's brother brings them smoothies, but the cups are filled with something red slopping around, and Adam retches. Sam ignores his, not even curling his hand around it when Dean tries to push it into his grip.
"-don't take it we might have to ... hospital-"
"-keep trying-"
Their voices are muffled and trying to understand it makes Adam's head hurt. The crunch of snow is getting louder now, and beneath that is the sound of soft pleased chuckles. Adam sits up straight on the couch, looking around the room. He jumps up and runs to the window. It's still bright outside, but in the distance the view keeps flickering, oddly gray, like a storm coming closer. He steps back, wringing his hands. He catches a glimpse in the corner of his eye-a curtain of brown hair-and whirls around. It's just Sam, curled up, but his position doesn't look so vulnerable anymore, more like someone hiding themselves.
The room seems to shimmer, and the scant belief Adam had in this reality is rapidly crumbling. Tingling pinpricks are spreading on his arms and his throat is closing up on him. Gray starts to seep in at the edges, the focus of that tunneled vision jumping into clarity so detailed he's overwhelmed.
How can he know if he's truly out? How did he ever believe they could escape Lucifer's grasp?
And then he hears it.
"Of course you never left."
He lashes out, jumps at the huddled figure on the couch.
Lucifer's flesh yields easily under his, but he never stops laughing at Adam-for believing in this, believing in Sam-and it's useless because nothing can hurt Lucifer but Adam's mind is not engaged right now, his body driven by terror and all the ugly instincts beneath the surface.
He doesn't stop fighting when he's pulled off, not until he's tied up and put in a chair. His stomach is heaving, and he's crying for Sam. The walls are rising up and up and Adam is so small, tiny in the face of Michael's rage, the angel's voice bouncing all around. He cringes away from it, he can't even understand anything except that he's angry, and oh god he's going to rip Adam apart.
Everything goes dark.
- - -
He's aware before he opens his eyes, but his mind is sluggish, drifting from one unconnected thought to another. There is a pounding in his head like blood pumping through veins, an ache that makes him groan. He squeezes his eyes and shakes his head slowly, rubbing his face in the soft bouncy thing underneath.
He stirs more, moves his arm, and then he feels a little pinprick of pain in the crook of his elbow. He opens his eyes and the blurry world focuses on something coming out of his skin. He feels like he's going to throw up and he reaches with his other arm to pull it out, but he's stopped by a hand on his shoulder.
"Wait, leave that in, kid."
Adam would jump but his body isn't responding quickly to anything-as it is, his heart just skips a beat when he sees the old man sitting in a chair by the bed.
Adam squints at him-he doesn't know why Bobby is in his room and he doesn't remember how he got here.
"It's an IV, it'll make you feel better," explains Bobby, before pausing and saying, "Do you feel up to talking? Because we need an explanation. I'm trying not to jump to conclusions but this is the second time you've attacked Sam."
The tone of his voice, the barely contained frustration, or accusation, makes Adam shrink back.
"Do you remember what happened?" Bobby presses.
Adam tries to thinks back-there were organs in the smoothie cups, Sam was ignoring him, Lucifer.
"What did you see?"
Adam licks his lips. "Lucifer..." he whispers in a croaky voice. "He was there, I-"
He remembers thinking Sam was Lucifer all along. But it doesn't seem so certain now, like his mind is washed clean of the gunk that Lucifer liberally painted his brain with.
"Sam," he says, because he needs him now. He inches up awkwardly, starts to pull himself up, but his head starts to swim and he feels like he's about to throw up.
"Woah, lie down," says Bobby, standing with his arms up like he's going to push Adam down. Adam freezes but soon his body starts shaking from the effort and he collapses back down, sweat running down his temples. "You need to rest, and so does Sam. You hurt him pretty good there. You know you can't do that again, right?"
Adam just stares back, irritated by another rule he has to obey.
Bobby lets out his breath in a tired whoosh. "It's like this," he tries. "Hurt someone too much, and they'll … go … pass away. Like your mom."
"You said I could see my mom again some day."
Bobby scratches under his cap. "Yeah, I did say that, didn't I. Well, you don't always know how long it's gonna be. Might be a real long while, and you'll be stuck on your own without Sam for all that time. You don't want that, right?"
Adam shakes his head after a pause. He's been without Sam for long periods of time before, and he thinks he could wait it out, but the prospect of being stuck in this strange place without Sam is making his mouth dry out. He swallows painfully.
"All right. Then you need to go easier on Sam, no more attacking him or throwing things at him. We got an agreement?" Adam nods silently. "Get some sleep then. You don't need to worry about the dreams. Just take your smoothie and you'll be fine."
He gestures towards the cup on the table next to the bed; Adam expects to see red again, but it's a creamy yellow. Adam takes it gingerly and sniffs it before starting to suck it out from the straw. He stares at Bobby over the cup as Bobby lifts himself out of the chair, his bones creaking and popping, and leaves the room.
Adam drinks a little more before stopping. He lies back down against the bed, smoothie cup slipping down until it's propped against him. He blinks slowly, each time taking longer before he opens his eyes again. He thinks about going to find Sam.
- - -
The next time he wakes the room is so dark he doubts his eyes are actually open. After several seconds they adjust until he can see the faint gray shapes in the room. He pushes himself up into a sitting position, putting his feet over the bed and into something wet and sticky. He recoils, snatching back his feet, and sits in a fetal position until he gradually makes out the outline of his smoothie cup overturned on the floor.
He inches down the bed and gets off at the end, standing up and making his way to the door, arms outstretched and shuffling his feet forward one step at a time. The hallway outside is silent but for the usual ticking sound. He stands still for a while, listening to see if Bobby or Dean are waiting, before walking across and slowly pushing open Sam's door. He can just make out the huddled shape of Sam underneath the covers. When he starts to walk over he stubs his toe on something and trips, falling into Sam's bed. He lands heavily on Sam, who makes an awful gasping noise as he sits bolt upright.
"Sam, Sam, it's me," Adam whispers, catching the hands Sam is waving wildly in his direction.
Sam grabs Adam's hand tightly, before reaching out a hand and brushing the tips of his fingers against Adam's face. He lets out a rattled breath.
Adam smiles and Sam pulls him in closer, Adam crawling in until he's under the covers, huddled up against Sam's warmth. Sam wraps his arms around Adam, presses a kiss to his forehead and sighs Adam's name.
"I saw Lucifer," says Adam. "I thought ... I don't know, I thought you were him."
"Yeah," says Sam, like Adam is confirming something he already knew. "I was seeing him too. Dean says it's not real."
Adam bristles. "He doesn't know anything. Where was he? When Lucifer was, when he was-"
His throat closes up and his words break off. He frowns to himself and Sam strokes his back up and down. "I just-I want to be with you, Sam. But they keep separating us."
"I know, I know."
Adam hugs Sam with all his strength, feeling the heavy physicality of Sam in his arms, tucked around him. He closes his eyes, lets himself soak up Sam's presence, his heartbeat gradually slowing. He tucks his hand under Sam's shirt, fingers tracing Sam's spine. He tries to walk his fingers all the way up to Sam's neck but the shirt gets in the way and he snarls, ripping his hand back.
"Why do we always have to-I hate these things!"
Sam laughs-short and surprised and helps Adam pull his shirt off. He reaches out and starts unbuttoning Adam's shirt, long fingers making quick work of it. They fall back together, skin against naked skin, and Adam sighs in contentment. He pulls his leg up and lays his head on Sam's chest, half lying on top of Sam. He feels Sam's chest rise up and down and closes his eyes, listening to the steady whoosh of blood flowing through Sam's heart.
Arousal curls in Adam's belly but the fear of rejection quashes the suggestion he wants to make. He does nothing instead and tries to be happy with just this touching. Sam's hand plays with Adam's hair, tickling the base of his skull. There's no noise. Despite the longing he's keeping pushed down, Adam's lips curve into a smile.
He doesn't know how long it's been when the door opens. He opens his eyes, sees the light moving across the bed as the door creaks opens. There's a whisper of Sam's name.
Then the covers are suddenly gone and Adam is being pulled by his ankle. He tries to hold onto Sam but it's too late, he's tumbling off the bed and onto the floor. Sam's brother is standing above him, lit up in the dark room like his skin is glowing. Adam recoils.
"I've had it," says Dean, pointing at Adam, and then he starts pacing, his hands constantly moving in agitation. "I'm not pretending this is okay anymore. Sammy, this is stopping right now. This is fucking weird, it's unhealthy, it's not good for you! This is not-is this another thing you've forgotten? The fact that you're brothers? Adam needs to go, he's dragging you down. A hospital or somewhere, I don't care, but you're never gonna get better with him here."
Adam finds his voice, shrieks, "No!"
Dean turns to look at him, his lip curled up. "What are you gonna do? All I have to do is drop you off at a hospital. They take one look at you and they'll never let you out."
Tears are streaming down Adam's face and he can barely catch a breath. Somehow, everything he went through with Lucifer and Michael is nothing compared to this. Sheer terror of losing Sam is freezing the air in his lungs, and he can only scream 'no' like some small newly-born thing.
Dean takes a step towards Adam, raises his hands, and then Sam dashes forward, arms outstretched, standing right in front of Adam.
Dean halts, looking confused. "Sam?" he says.
Sam shakes his head. His body is shivering.
"Don't you hurt him." His voice is barely there but when Dean tries to interrupt, he yells, suddenly loud. "Don't you hurt him!"
"Sammy ... I wasn't going to. He just, he needs help, and so do you, and you guys being together is not going to work."
"No, no! All this time, you were my hero, I knew you would save us and now you're taking Adam away. You're not my brother! He wouldn't do this to me!"
Dean's mouth falls open just a tiny bit; his face looks like the ground has been torn from under him and he's in freefall. Adam crawls forwards till he's directly behind Sam, and holds onto his leg.
There's a soft sound of a door opening, Adam glances back, and Bobby is there, asking, "What's going on here?
Dean looks up, a wild look in his eyes. "Bobby. You get it, right? We're the only ones operating with the full deck here."
Bobby gestures for Dean to come over, a frown on his face. Dean marches over and starts whispering to him, getting more and more agitated until finally he throws his hands up and spits out, "Fine, you deal with it," and storms out of the room.
Adam and Sam back away when Bobby moves forward, Sam moving again so that he's blocking Adam with his body. Bobby holds up his hands.
"Woah, everyone calm down."
"You're not taking him!"
"No-one's doing anything right now. It's midnight. We're all under a lot of stress, we can talk in the morning. After you get some sleep, okay?"
Sam hesitates. Adam starts shaking his head, clutching onto Sam's hand.
"Please," says Bobby, exhaustion written over his face, the loose skin seeming even more disconnected from the muscle underneath than before.
"You can't take him," pleads Sam.
"He'll still be here in the morning. I'll make sure nothing happens. I promise."
Sam hesitates and Bobby's voice turns stern suddenly, like the crack of a whip. "Sam! Step away from Adam."
Sam freezes and then his whole body relaxes, shoulders hunching in submission.
"No, no, please, Sam, I don't wanna," says Adam, grabbing at Sam's hands as Sam tries to pull away.
Sam hushes him and holds Adam's face. He rubs their noses together. His hands are shaking. "You'll be okay. I'll find you later," he says.
Adam starts crying when Sam pulls his hands away. Tears drip down his face and his nose starts running while he's led back to his room, hugging Sam's shirt to him.
- - -
He cries for a while in his bed, wraps his body around his pillow like it can make up for having Sam there. His body feels lighter, like the pull to sleep isn't affecting him as much. He doesn't want to fall into that black space where his mind disappears anyway.
He wait until he decides it's been long enough and treads to his door as lightly as possible. He pushes it open and peers into the blackness. There's no chair with Michael-Dean sitting in it. But when he steps out he sees the lump lying across Sam's door. Bobby is completely still, eyes shut, stretched out along the hallway. There's no way for Adam to get into Sam's room without Bobby noticing him.
Adam dithers for a while before shutting his door behind himself. He can't see Sam yet but he's not ready to go back to his room to stay there alone until it's light again.
He creeps downstairs. He thinks maybe he'll look for a smoothie: he wants the green one.Then he hears rolling, clinking sounds, and a low voice complaining. He ducks down immediately, behind the couch. He holds his breath as his heart thumps in his chest.
"… for fucking helping ... that son-of-a-bitch ..."
It's Sam's brother. Adam crawls forward until he's under the window, where Dean's voice is loudest.
There's a sigh and the sound of Dean swallowing something. "Cas!" he calls. "I know ... I know I said I wouldn't call ... I've been ignoring everything I hear in the news, like I promised ... But you can't leave him like this!" There's a loud smash, tinkling like ice shattering. "It's been weeks and he's not getting any better. Sam is ... there's so much he doesn't remember. He doesn't even remember Bobby. I just ... I don't know him. I don't know my brother anymore."
There's the sound of ragged breathing, sniffing, a strangled, "Cas, please," before it descends into weeping.
Adam waits a while, listening to Sam's brother crying. It's strange. He doesn't know the sound of anyone crying but Sam. He tries to compare them but then he can't stop thinking about Sam crying, and hopes that Sam isn't sad on his own. He crawls back out of the room and climbs the stairs, leaning over to touch Sam's door before retreating to his own room.
- - -
Adam spends the rest of the night with a blanket over himself rocking in the corner of his room-a comforting rhythm that quietens his mind and reminds him of Sam's arms around him. Bobby is the one to let them out of their rooms in the morning. Adam holds onto Sam's hands when he sees him but Bobby separates them when Sam has a shower, going so far as to make Adam sit outside in the hallway. Adam sits against the door, his cheek resting against the rough surface, his stomach curdling with a weight of unhappiness that he can barely deal with.
"It's good for you to spend some time apart," says Bobby, and even though Adam makes no response, the old man carries on talking. "You need to get your independence back, meet new people, see new-"
It's a relief when Bobby cuts off at the shrill tune filling in the air. Adam's eyes slide over to see Bobby pulling something, a cellphone, out of his pocket and start talking to it.
"Hey, wait, slow down," he says, turning away and taking a few steps back. "You what-?" he says after a long silence. "Hell's bells, Rufus ... yeah, I know it, just let me-" he ducks away into his room. Adam strains to hear the rest of it. "-more than 6 hours!" Bobby comes back out, clutching a collection of skin. "Just don't do anything stupid, make sure they don't find the phone ... Yeah, I'm leaving-I'm leaving right now."
Adam watches with wide eyes as Bobby shoves the phone back in his pocket and run-walks to Dean's room. Bobby barks at Dean to get up, and there's some incomprehensible mumbling in return. Bobby tries for several seconds before running out of the room.
Bobby takes off his hat, ruffles his hair, and swears loudly. He looks down at Adam, like he's sizing Adam up, and then starts drawing on a thin sheet of skin. He folds it up and pushes it under the crack of the door, then turns around to Adam.
"I need to leave," he says. "I've left a note for Dean; make sure he reads it when he gets up, all right? Look after yourself and Sam while I'm gone. I'm trusting you on this." His eyes are desperate, like he's trying to convince himself of that faith and Adam nods silently. Bobby strangles the hat between his hands before putting it back on, nodding to himself. "Right. I'll be back as soon as I can."
And then he's gone, rapid footsteps leaving Adam alone with only the sound of running water from Sam's shower. He stands up, and pulls the "note" out from under the door. It's full of scratches written in black blood, and the texture of the sheet is rougher than any skin Adam's felt. He looks down the hallway to where Bobby has left and to the bathroom door where he can hear the faint sounds of Sam washing under the water. He makes a decision.
He pushes Dean's door open slowly. Dean is gurgling and moaning like his lungs are punctured and he snorts loudly when Adam steps into the room.
"Uh, whaddiya saying ... Bobby?" His eyes crack open a sliver before closing again. "God, my head."
"Bobby's taking me and Sam outside," says Adam. "He says you should stay in bed."
Dean mumbles unintelligibly in reply before flopping over on the bed. "Yeah, I ... good. Sleep. 'Kay, Sammy."
Sam is out of the shower when Adam walks in-standing naked dripping water on the floor, rubbing himself dry. Adam feels worms squirming in his torso, and he can barely contain himself as he runs over, pulling Sam down into a passionate kiss. Sam freezes, surprised, but kisses back, resting a damp hand on Adam's waist, just touching the gap of skin between his shirt and pants. When they pull away his forehead is creased with worry.
"Adam ... I don't think we're meant to ... Dean said," he says, watching as Adam tears the note into tiny pieces, before throwing it into the sink and rinsing it away.
Adam takes Sam's hand, his stomach twisting with uncertainty. "We've only got a bit of time. Dean is still lying down, and Bobby's out. Please, it's been so long."
Sam's mouth opens a fraction and he licks his lips. "They're not watching us?"
Adam nods and Sam relaxes, a tiny smile appearing on his face that Adam returns with brilliance. They leave Sam's clothes on the floor and walk downstairs together. It's not far enough, Adam can still hear Dean's gurgling breaths.
They open the door to outside, the light is blinding, and the expanse of space stretches around them. Adam hangs back for a second, but Sam turns around, gives him a quizzical look, and the tension in his chest releases slightly. He isn't on his own.
They walk out further. It's beautiful; muted blues, sharp greens and soft browns, like it's constructed from Sam. He still can't remember what many of the objects are out here, nothing is familiar except the rotting metal skeletons of things like the black car that they saw when they were first pulled out of Lucifer's realm. They walk past the cars until they are far enough away that they can't see the house. There's a faded green car blocked in by larger cars, and Adam decides it will be the best for hiding.
It takes him and Sam a while before they can open the door and crawl into the back. Adam follows Sam, who turns around and pulls Adam on to his lap. Adam is enveloped in a tight hug, Sam pressing kisses to Adam's hair.
"God, Adam," says Sam. "I can't stand it. I want you, want you so much."
Adam captures Sam's mouth in a kiss, strokes his hands up Sam's back to anchor them in Sam's hair. His cock is stiffening, rubbing against the his pants, and he thrusts forward against Sam.
"Fuck me," he whispers, pulling away. "Fuck me, please, please-"
Sam lifts him up onto his knees, pulling his pants off while Adam wrestles to get his top off. The shirt blocks his vision for a second before it's pulled over his head, and then he sees Sam drinking him in, eyes wide and dark.
Adam's body is vibrating with excitement as Sam reaches out a hand, gripping Adam by the waist and guiding him down. Sam's hard cock grazes him, and he sways, letting it rub between his cheeks, just catching his hole on each pass. Sam's head goes back and he groans, resting his head against the window as he gazes up with slitted eyes.
Adam can feel his cheeks slicking up from the precome and he presses down experimentally on the head. His hole expands to let in the head but only slightly and it burns. He lifts back up, hissing in surprise. It's not like it always was-wet and messy, and he's confused. Sam's hands dig into Adam's thighs.
"Just, give me a second," says Adam, and he puts his finger into his mouth, coating it in spit.
He doesn't know if this will work, but it's too dry now. He leans forward, bracing himself against Sam's shoulder as he reaches back. One finger is easy, slides right in, and he repeats it, getting his finger wet before pushing the spit in himself. Sam's eyes glint as he watches, gripping his cock in one big hand. Adam bites his lip as he stares at Sam's cock, and the bead of precome glistening on the head.
He's not sure if he's ready, but it feels easier to thrust his finger in and he can't wait any longer. He grabs Sam's cock and guides it to his hole, and it's in, pushing its way into Adam's body-a line of fire as he drops down into Sam's lap.
Sam's hips thrust upwards, but Adam stops him, holds himself still as he tries to get used to the length splitting him open, burning him up from the inside. He tries moving and gasps at the sensations; it hurts, but fulfillment fills him at the feeling of his body and Sam's connected. He drops down and pulls back up, relishing the feeling of Sam's length rubbing inside him as it leaves, before it fills him again.
Sam's eyes flutter as he's pulled into Adam's body and he cries out Adam's name. Adam picks up a rhythm, slamming down onto Sam's crotch, a slap-slap-slap as their skin sticks together.
"Adam, I missed this so much, I missed you," Sam gasps, and bites down on his own hand.
Adam holds himself steady with two hands on Sam's shoulders, squirming as he slams down, trying to get just the right position to scratch that itch inside him. His cock is swinging freely, hitting his belly on each thrust, an erratic flash of pleasure. He's panting, balls pulling up as he climbs higher. Just a little more-
And then Sam grabs his hips and slams Adam down to the base of his cock hard, balls slapping against Adam's ass and hips thrusting in frantically, groaning as he comes. Adam cries out at the piston firing of Sam's cock inside him, and grabs at his own, squeezing hard and spitting out his orgasm between them.
He collapses forward, forehead resting on Sam's shoulder, and pants. He squeezes Sam's softening cock inside him. He doesn't want Sam to pull out yet. Sam sighs, rubbing his arms up Adam's body and pressing kisses to his neck.
"I love you," Sam whispers into Adam's skin, again and again.
Adam feels tears sparking up and he squeezes his eyes shut.
"I can't stand it," he says, shaking his head back and forth, brushing against Sam's shoulder. "I just want to be with you, and they-"
Sam shushes him, touches Adam's face gently and makes him lift his head. "It's okay," he says, cupping Adam's face. "I won't let them separate us ... even if we have to leave here."
And he pulls Adam in and holds him tight. Adam relaxes against Sam's body, curling up into that warmth, and Sam kisses and strokes his hair.
They sit there for a while, long enough that the stuffy air from their activities starts to cool down. A draft from a crack in the door tickles Adam's spine and he shivers. It's not the burning cold of Lucifer that freezes his skin blue; it's just non-angelic, slightly uncomfortable cold. But what difference does it make if he feels comfortable or not? He huddles in closer to Sam but he can't stop the minute shaking that overtakes his body.
"I'm cold," he admits.
Sam makes a noise of concern, and rubs his arms briskly down Adam's back, and then traps Adam's cold hands between his thighs. Adam smiles but he's still shivering, and Sam says hesitantly, "We could go inside?"
Adam turns and looks out the window. He can't see it from here, but in this open sea of unfamiliar space, the idea of being back in the one place he knows is somewhat comforting.
"If we had a shower..." Sam trails off.
Adam thinks of the house, always warm, with as much hot water and extra blankets as he wants. The image of standing under falling hot water, steam filling the bathroom, floats through Adam's head. He can bear this cold, he has for so long, but it hits him suddenly that he doesn't need to. It doesn't have to hurt anymore. He has a choice.
He shifts, shivers again, then nods his head.
Adam gets out first, helping Sam, whose legs have fallen asleep, out of the car. They pick their way through the graveyard of cars, holding each other's hands. Adam's muscles are loose, his body feeling raw and new. Adam glances up at Sam and sees a flush on pink in his cheeks-he looks more vibrant and alive than he has in a long time. When they arrive at the house Sam opens the door and nudges Adam in, wrapping his body around Adam from behind, enveloping him in warmth. Adam snorts and lets Sam manhandle him before darting away, then grabbing Sam's hand and leading him up the stairs.
Dean hasn't gotten up yet. Adam tries to walk lightly down the corridor to the bathroom, easing open the door quietly-he doesn't want this moment between just him and Sam broken yet. They both muddle through getting the hot water to come out of the shower-it's alternately too hot or too cold, until they get it just right. They step in together and Adam sighs as the hot water cascades over his shoulders. Sam brushes his hand up Adam's neck and into his hair, and Adam thinks about how this moment right now, is okay-it's different from the cage, no one to tell them what to do, but he's not paralyzed by this unfamiliar freedom if he has Sam. They can navigate it together.
Sam massages his fingertips into Adam's scalp, a smile curving his lips.
Adam looks up at him through half-closed eyes and asks, "What are you thinking about?"
"I was just remembering," says Sam, "when we had that time together on our own down there. Lucifer and Michael were busy fighting each other, and you came to find me."
Adam nods and brings up his arm to circle Sam's hip. It was the happiest he can ever remember feeling.
Sam swallows. "I was ... I was really close to giving up then. And then you, you saved me ... and that time with you gave me the strength to keep going, even when Lucifer took us back."
"I thought ... what about Dean?"
Sam shakes his head. "That wasn't what got me through everything. I waited a long time to see Dean again, and I want it to work out here, but you're the most important thing to me. I can't do this ... not without you."
Adam's eyes sting and he ducks his head. He doesn't know how to address Sam's hopes for things with Dean, but he wants to return everything Sam said about Adam. Eventually he just manages to whisper, "Me too ... I love you too."
They hold each other under the shower, water washing away any tears as it runs over their entwined bodies. Sam's chest moves against his body, so close that it feels like they are breathing as one; their forms wrapped together so tightly that no one, not even Dean or Bobby, could pull them apart.
Author: rirren
Fandom: Supernatural
Rating: NC-17
Characters: Adam, Sam
Pairing: Sam/Adam
Word Count: ~7,200
Genre: angst, dark, hurt/comfort
Content notes: noncon, bad guys made them do it, codependency, mental instability, unhealthy relationships, sleep deprivation, self-harm
Summary: Trapped together for centuries in the cage, Sam and Adam wrap around each other like inosculating branches of two different trees.
Author's Note:
Thank you so much to fioreitaliano and Alyndra for their cheerleading and alpha reading. I wouldn't have been able to finish this fic without them, let alone to such a length. And thanks to Alyndra for also doing a great job beta reading--without their help this fic would have been much shorter, more bareboned, and possibly never posted at all.
Written for this kink meme prompt.
Back to chapter 2
- - -
He doesn't slip back into dreams that night. Sitting on the bed with its soft soft covers seems to pull his mind towards sleep, and he has several close calls where he suddenly snaps back to discover he's tilting dangerously, before he gets up. He stands in the corner of the room, the wall proving an effective deterrent when he hits his head on it when drifting off.
When it's light again his mind feels like it's full of wasps, and his skin is melting, but he survived the darkness without falling into dreams.
It doesn't work the next night. His body is so exhausted that the wall feels strangely comfortable. He must have only been gone for a couple of heartbeats but he wakes up that night in a standing position with his head resting against it, and Lucifer's mocking voice ringing in his ears. He throws his head forward violently, hitting the wall with a smack that dents it a little. Stinging, fresh pain explodes behind his eyes, and the pounding headache keeps him awake for the rest of the night.
Things start to feel unreal in the morning. His eyes can't focus and keep watering; he feels like he's walking through melting slush-his legs numb and unresponsive. He can't concentrate on any of the conversations Bobby directs at him or Sam, his head filling up with whispering and hissing. He sees things out of the corner of his eyes, shining smudges of air that disappear when he looks them straight on. He can't tell if this is Lucifer breaking through, or the illusion breaking down.
Bobby fusses over Adam when he steps into the bright light of the bathroom. Adam just blinks at him until Bobby picks up a shiny object off the wall-mirror, his minds supplies to him-and he stares at the reflection of a beautiful bruise blossoming on his forehead. He smiles and pokes at the delicate blending of magenta into blue on his skin, ignoring Bobby's questions of how it happened.
There is a horrified yell right by his ear, and something smacks the mirror out of Bobby's hand, shattering it on the floor. Adam gapes, and when Sam sinks to the ground, whimpering Lucifer's name, he runs over, through the piercing pain in his feet.
Adam goes to hold Sam, but Sam is curled up, forearms up protecting his head, and he jerks back when Adam tries to tug at them. Bobby moves in, speaking to Sam in a low, gentle voice.
Adam stands up, looks around the bathroom. There's nothing there but he can't stop his breath coming quicker or the pinpricks lighting up all over his body. His eyes catch on the shards of the mirror on the floor-he remembers what a mirror does, it's only reflections in there-but there's a glimpse of Sam's brown hair in the biggest shard by his feet and suddenly he's not so sure.
He snatches it up-the skin on his palm splits smoothly-and throws it against the wall, smashing it into tiny pieces. He does the rest for the other shards on the floor, until it's a powder of sharp light, and Bobby is yelling at him What the hell are you doing?.
He runs out of the room, door hitting the wall with a bang, and flies down the stairs in two leaps. His head is buzzing as he tears all the mirrors from the walls he can find, anything reflective, he can't leave any gap for Lucifer to get through.
He stands panting when it's done, looking around at the dusting of glass like snowfall. He doesn't fight back when Dean grabs him from behind.
Dean grumbles at them while he's fixing them up, but the satisfied feeling of victory doesn't leave Adam for a while. The mirrors are gone, that's another way they've foiled Lucifer. They just need to keep from falling asleep now.
He needs string threaded through his palm, Sam as well, and shards of mirror removed from the soles of Adam's feet. That's the best part. The shards are deep inside, and Dean needs to use something long and metal to pull them all out. He lies on the couch with his feet up, writhing and gasping at the sharp pain from nerves deep in the muscle. Sam holds his hand the whole time. When it's over he relaxes against the couch, skin damp with sweat, and smiles up at Sam. His mind feels clear and fresh, and most importantly, like he's not going to fall asleep.
They want to take Sam and Adam outside again. Adam clings to Sam as they're lead to the door, but he panics when they open it, at the bright expanse of green and blue out there that could be hiding anything. He pulls Sam back by the hand until they're crouched in a corner, and he can see anything that might come at them. Dean and Bobby look worried and talk together in hushed voices before leaving the room, but it washes over Adam; the only thing he can concentrate on is Sam's warmth next to him and his hand squeezing his tightly.
"We're out. We're out, right?" he whispers to Sam.
Sam murmurs back, "I'm here," and squeezes his hand tight enough that pain radiates up his arm.
Adam gasps and pulls his hand out of Sam's grip just enough that he can pull back the bandage. He grabs Sam's hand, and pulls it to him, presses those fingers into the wound.
"There. Press on it, really hard, please."
Sam's thumbs brushes against the string threaded in his palm, tugging on it and sending a flicker of pain through the wound. He digs his thumb into the cut, fresh blood welling up around it. Adam's eyes flutter shut and he leans against Sam, who tucks him into his body, shielding him.
He lets Sam touch him until his whole body is shivering with pain and then he grabs Sam's hand, and clenches his free hand around it, fingernails slipping under the bandage and into the cuts, feeling warm liquid seep under his fingernails. Sam lets out a low surprised grunt.
"See," Adam whispers. "We can stay awake like this."
When Dean comes back into the room with their smoothies, their bandages are back on and the blood is sucked from their fingers.
- - -
Adam keeps worrying away at the wound through the day. It keeps his mind sharp but he doesn't have the energy to do anything except sit there, his mind zoning out of noticing anything except the comforting presence of Sam. He reaches out to Sam and scratches away at his wound when they're left on their own and Sam does the same back.
He's rubbing his own bandage with his thumb when he hears a yell.
"Stop that! What the hell are you doing?"
Adam blinks up at Dean, shying away from the angry man in front of him. Dean has Sam's palm in his hand; he peels back the bandage, revealing the torn skin underneath. Blood drips onto the floor and Dean tries to mop it up with the cloth. Sam tries to pull his hand away but Dean holds it firmly until Sam gives up.
"Dean..." says Sam.
"Sam, are you-are you doing this to yourself?"
Sam doesn't answer. Dean lets go of Sam and brings one hand to his mouth, accidentally smearing blood over his face.
"Why..." he says in a lost voice, before grabbing Adam's hand suddenly, ripping off his bandage. He stares at Adam's palm for a second. "Both of you..." he starts to say before barking out a laugh. "Jesus Christ. Do you know how hard I worked to get you back, Sam? And you're just ... I'm trying my best to keep you alive and safe, but I can't-I need you to fight too."
"I'm sorry," says Sam, in a tiny voice.
"This could get infected. I just got you back, and if you die from something as stupid as this-" His voice trails off, and he reaches for Sam's hand, trying to wrap the bandage around it, pull the skin back together. "You know it's dangerous, right? It's-you could die, okay?"
Sam doesn't say anything, keeps his head down, his hair covering his face. Dean shakes Sam's hand roughly. "You know, right? You know?"
There's no response and Dean lets Sam's hand drop. Adam puts his arm around Sam as Dean backs away, running his hand through his hair.
"It doesn't matter if you don't understand," he says finally. "You can't hurt yourself, okay? I'll be upset if you do."
He leaves the room and Sam starts to take in deep, shuddering breaths. Adam curls in closer.
- - -
Dean puts new bandages on them again, threads the skin together on their palms. Sam is cowed enough that he doesn't try touching his hand again, obeying Dean's orders, and something inside Adam whispers, how far does Sam's loyalty to Dean go? Did Dean say something? Is this why Sam hasn't touched him like that, hasn't even tried to sleep with Adam this whole time?
Adam moves onto more subtle methods of staying awake: gnawing away at the skin on the inside of his cheek and swallowing the blood. He doesn't have to listen to Dean. He's not Adam's brother, and he's not Lucifer or Michael. What does it matter if they hurt themselves? Why do they have to control everything Sam and Adam do?
When it's time for the evening routine Adam tries rebelling, and refuses to brush his teeth. Dean just ignores him and Bobby makes an effort before giving up. Adam grins to himself in his room in the dark but that night is worse than any so far.
Everything he tries: standing up, hitting his head, scratching up his skin, is almost useless. Everything in his body is pulling him towards that other world, the pain only a minor pinprick in the overwhelming soft blanket of sleep that is smothering him. During the night he suddenly finds himself on the floor with no idea how he got there, his heart pounding and the after-image of a snowy landscape flashing in his eyes.
He tries sneaking out of his room, he needs Sam, but Sam's brother is sitting there, a shadowy figure on a chair. He shakes his head silently and Adam is so rattled, unsure if it's Dean or Michael sitting there, that he creeps back into his room and cries silently. He takes up his usual chant, whispers triquetrum pisiform trapezium into the silence until it's light outside.
When he's let out of his room he runs to Sam, buries his face in Sam's chest, and stays there until Bobby ushers them into the bathroom. Sam's face is pale and blotchy, dark circles under his eyes, and his skin tight, like his skull is pushing its way out of his face. Adam suspects he looks the same.
Dean and Bobby try to talk to them, they show them things with pictures on them, beautiful colors, with a story to go along with the images, but he can't concentrate. His hearing is muffled, and constantly running in the background is the tight crunch of footsteps in snow.
It takes Adam a while to realize that Sam is muttering to himself, curled up with his hands held in front of his face, like he's whispering to something in them. He jerks violently when Adam touches him, and for a second his eyes focus on Adam before his gaze is lost, turned somewhere inward. Adam sits as close as he can to Sam without touching him, and blinks his dry eyes rapidly, because what is he meant to do if Sam isn't here with him.
Sam's brother brings them smoothies, but the cups are filled with something red slopping around, and Adam retches. Sam ignores his, not even curling his hand around it when Dean tries to push it into his grip.
"-don't take it we might have to ... hospital-"
"-keep trying-"
Their voices are muffled and trying to understand it makes Adam's head hurt. The crunch of snow is getting louder now, and beneath that is the sound of soft pleased chuckles. Adam sits up straight on the couch, looking around the room. He jumps up and runs to the window. It's still bright outside, but in the distance the view keeps flickering, oddly gray, like a storm coming closer. He steps back, wringing his hands. He catches a glimpse in the corner of his eye-a curtain of brown hair-and whirls around. It's just Sam, curled up, but his position doesn't look so vulnerable anymore, more like someone hiding themselves.
The room seems to shimmer, and the scant belief Adam had in this reality is rapidly crumbling. Tingling pinpricks are spreading on his arms and his throat is closing up on him. Gray starts to seep in at the edges, the focus of that tunneled vision jumping into clarity so detailed he's overwhelmed.
How can he know if he's truly out? How did he ever believe they could escape Lucifer's grasp?
And then he hears it.
"Of course you never left."
He lashes out, jumps at the huddled figure on the couch.
Lucifer's flesh yields easily under his, but he never stops laughing at Adam-for believing in this, believing in Sam-and it's useless because nothing can hurt Lucifer but Adam's mind is not engaged right now, his body driven by terror and all the ugly instincts beneath the surface.
He doesn't stop fighting when he's pulled off, not until he's tied up and put in a chair. His stomach is heaving, and he's crying for Sam. The walls are rising up and up and Adam is so small, tiny in the face of Michael's rage, the angel's voice bouncing all around. He cringes away from it, he can't even understand anything except that he's angry, and oh god he's going to rip Adam apart.
Everything goes dark.
- - -
He's aware before he opens his eyes, but his mind is sluggish, drifting from one unconnected thought to another. There is a pounding in his head like blood pumping through veins, an ache that makes him groan. He squeezes his eyes and shakes his head slowly, rubbing his face in the soft bouncy thing underneath.
He stirs more, moves his arm, and then he feels a little pinprick of pain in the crook of his elbow. He opens his eyes and the blurry world focuses on something coming out of his skin. He feels like he's going to throw up and he reaches with his other arm to pull it out, but he's stopped by a hand on his shoulder.
"Wait, leave that in, kid."
Adam would jump but his body isn't responding quickly to anything-as it is, his heart just skips a beat when he sees the old man sitting in a chair by the bed.
Adam squints at him-he doesn't know why Bobby is in his room and he doesn't remember how he got here.
"It's an IV, it'll make you feel better," explains Bobby, before pausing and saying, "Do you feel up to talking? Because we need an explanation. I'm trying not to jump to conclusions but this is the second time you've attacked Sam."
The tone of his voice, the barely contained frustration, or accusation, makes Adam shrink back.
"Do you remember what happened?" Bobby presses.
Adam tries to thinks back-there were organs in the smoothie cups, Sam was ignoring him, Lucifer.
"What did you see?"
Adam licks his lips. "Lucifer..." he whispers in a croaky voice. "He was there, I-"
He remembers thinking Sam was Lucifer all along. But it doesn't seem so certain now, like his mind is washed clean of the gunk that Lucifer liberally painted his brain with.
"Sam," he says, because he needs him now. He inches up awkwardly, starts to pull himself up, but his head starts to swim and he feels like he's about to throw up.
"Woah, lie down," says Bobby, standing with his arms up like he's going to push Adam down. Adam freezes but soon his body starts shaking from the effort and he collapses back down, sweat running down his temples. "You need to rest, and so does Sam. You hurt him pretty good there. You know you can't do that again, right?"
Adam just stares back, irritated by another rule he has to obey.
Bobby lets out his breath in a tired whoosh. "It's like this," he tries. "Hurt someone too much, and they'll … go … pass away. Like your mom."
"You said I could see my mom again some day."
Bobby scratches under his cap. "Yeah, I did say that, didn't I. Well, you don't always know how long it's gonna be. Might be a real long while, and you'll be stuck on your own without Sam for all that time. You don't want that, right?"
Adam shakes his head after a pause. He's been without Sam for long periods of time before, and he thinks he could wait it out, but the prospect of being stuck in this strange place without Sam is making his mouth dry out. He swallows painfully.
"All right. Then you need to go easier on Sam, no more attacking him or throwing things at him. We got an agreement?" Adam nods silently. "Get some sleep then. You don't need to worry about the dreams. Just take your smoothie and you'll be fine."
He gestures towards the cup on the table next to the bed; Adam expects to see red again, but it's a creamy yellow. Adam takes it gingerly and sniffs it before starting to suck it out from the straw. He stares at Bobby over the cup as Bobby lifts himself out of the chair, his bones creaking and popping, and leaves the room.
Adam drinks a little more before stopping. He lies back down against the bed, smoothie cup slipping down until it's propped against him. He blinks slowly, each time taking longer before he opens his eyes again. He thinks about going to find Sam.
- - -
The next time he wakes the room is so dark he doubts his eyes are actually open. After several seconds they adjust until he can see the faint gray shapes in the room. He pushes himself up into a sitting position, putting his feet over the bed and into something wet and sticky. He recoils, snatching back his feet, and sits in a fetal position until he gradually makes out the outline of his smoothie cup overturned on the floor.
He inches down the bed and gets off at the end, standing up and making his way to the door, arms outstretched and shuffling his feet forward one step at a time. The hallway outside is silent but for the usual ticking sound. He stands still for a while, listening to see if Bobby or Dean are waiting, before walking across and slowly pushing open Sam's door. He can just make out the huddled shape of Sam underneath the covers. When he starts to walk over he stubs his toe on something and trips, falling into Sam's bed. He lands heavily on Sam, who makes an awful gasping noise as he sits bolt upright.
"Sam, Sam, it's me," Adam whispers, catching the hands Sam is waving wildly in his direction.
Sam grabs Adam's hand tightly, before reaching out a hand and brushing the tips of his fingers against Adam's face. He lets out a rattled breath.
Adam smiles and Sam pulls him in closer, Adam crawling in until he's under the covers, huddled up against Sam's warmth. Sam wraps his arms around Adam, presses a kiss to his forehead and sighs Adam's name.
"I saw Lucifer," says Adam. "I thought ... I don't know, I thought you were him."
"Yeah," says Sam, like Adam is confirming something he already knew. "I was seeing him too. Dean says it's not real."
Adam bristles. "He doesn't know anything. Where was he? When Lucifer was, when he was-"
His throat closes up and his words break off. He frowns to himself and Sam strokes his back up and down. "I just-I want to be with you, Sam. But they keep separating us."
"I know, I know."
Adam hugs Sam with all his strength, feeling the heavy physicality of Sam in his arms, tucked around him. He closes his eyes, lets himself soak up Sam's presence, his heartbeat gradually slowing. He tucks his hand under Sam's shirt, fingers tracing Sam's spine. He tries to walk his fingers all the way up to Sam's neck but the shirt gets in the way and he snarls, ripping his hand back.
"Why do we always have to-I hate these things!"
Sam laughs-short and surprised and helps Adam pull his shirt off. He reaches out and starts unbuttoning Adam's shirt, long fingers making quick work of it. They fall back together, skin against naked skin, and Adam sighs in contentment. He pulls his leg up and lays his head on Sam's chest, half lying on top of Sam. He feels Sam's chest rise up and down and closes his eyes, listening to the steady whoosh of blood flowing through Sam's heart.
Arousal curls in Adam's belly but the fear of rejection quashes the suggestion he wants to make. He does nothing instead and tries to be happy with just this touching. Sam's hand plays with Adam's hair, tickling the base of his skull. There's no noise. Despite the longing he's keeping pushed down, Adam's lips curve into a smile.
He doesn't know how long it's been when the door opens. He opens his eyes, sees the light moving across the bed as the door creaks opens. There's a whisper of Sam's name.
Then the covers are suddenly gone and Adam is being pulled by his ankle. He tries to hold onto Sam but it's too late, he's tumbling off the bed and onto the floor. Sam's brother is standing above him, lit up in the dark room like his skin is glowing. Adam recoils.
"I've had it," says Dean, pointing at Adam, and then he starts pacing, his hands constantly moving in agitation. "I'm not pretending this is okay anymore. Sammy, this is stopping right now. This is fucking weird, it's unhealthy, it's not good for you! This is not-is this another thing you've forgotten? The fact that you're brothers? Adam needs to go, he's dragging you down. A hospital or somewhere, I don't care, but you're never gonna get better with him here."
Adam finds his voice, shrieks, "No!"
Dean turns to look at him, his lip curled up. "What are you gonna do? All I have to do is drop you off at a hospital. They take one look at you and they'll never let you out."
Tears are streaming down Adam's face and he can barely catch a breath. Somehow, everything he went through with Lucifer and Michael is nothing compared to this. Sheer terror of losing Sam is freezing the air in his lungs, and he can only scream 'no' like some small newly-born thing.
Dean takes a step towards Adam, raises his hands, and then Sam dashes forward, arms outstretched, standing right in front of Adam.
Dean halts, looking confused. "Sam?" he says.
Sam shakes his head. His body is shivering.
"Don't you hurt him." His voice is barely there but when Dean tries to interrupt, he yells, suddenly loud. "Don't you hurt him!"
"Sammy ... I wasn't going to. He just, he needs help, and so do you, and you guys being together is not going to work."
"No, no! All this time, you were my hero, I knew you would save us and now you're taking Adam away. You're not my brother! He wouldn't do this to me!"
Dean's mouth falls open just a tiny bit; his face looks like the ground has been torn from under him and he's in freefall. Adam crawls forwards till he's directly behind Sam, and holds onto his leg.
There's a soft sound of a door opening, Adam glances back, and Bobby is there, asking, "What's going on here?
Dean looks up, a wild look in his eyes. "Bobby. You get it, right? We're the only ones operating with the full deck here."
Bobby gestures for Dean to come over, a frown on his face. Dean marches over and starts whispering to him, getting more and more agitated until finally he throws his hands up and spits out, "Fine, you deal with it," and storms out of the room.
Adam and Sam back away when Bobby moves forward, Sam moving again so that he's blocking Adam with his body. Bobby holds up his hands.
"Woah, everyone calm down."
"You're not taking him!"
"No-one's doing anything right now. It's midnight. We're all under a lot of stress, we can talk in the morning. After you get some sleep, okay?"
Sam hesitates. Adam starts shaking his head, clutching onto Sam's hand.
"Please," says Bobby, exhaustion written over his face, the loose skin seeming even more disconnected from the muscle underneath than before.
"You can't take him," pleads Sam.
"He'll still be here in the morning. I'll make sure nothing happens. I promise."
Sam hesitates and Bobby's voice turns stern suddenly, like the crack of a whip. "Sam! Step away from Adam."
Sam freezes and then his whole body relaxes, shoulders hunching in submission.
"No, no, please, Sam, I don't wanna," says Adam, grabbing at Sam's hands as Sam tries to pull away.
Sam hushes him and holds Adam's face. He rubs their noses together. His hands are shaking. "You'll be okay. I'll find you later," he says.
Adam starts crying when Sam pulls his hands away. Tears drip down his face and his nose starts running while he's led back to his room, hugging Sam's shirt to him.
- - -
He cries for a while in his bed, wraps his body around his pillow like it can make up for having Sam there. His body feels lighter, like the pull to sleep isn't affecting him as much. He doesn't want to fall into that black space where his mind disappears anyway.
He wait until he decides it's been long enough and treads to his door as lightly as possible. He pushes it open and peers into the blackness. There's no chair with Michael-Dean sitting in it. But when he steps out he sees the lump lying across Sam's door. Bobby is completely still, eyes shut, stretched out along the hallway. There's no way for Adam to get into Sam's room without Bobby noticing him.
Adam dithers for a while before shutting his door behind himself. He can't see Sam yet but he's not ready to go back to his room to stay there alone until it's light again.
He creeps downstairs. He thinks maybe he'll look for a smoothie: he wants the green one.Then he hears rolling, clinking sounds, and a low voice complaining. He ducks down immediately, behind the couch. He holds his breath as his heart thumps in his chest.
"… for fucking helping ... that son-of-a-bitch ..."
It's Sam's brother. Adam crawls forward until he's under the window, where Dean's voice is loudest.
There's a sigh and the sound of Dean swallowing something. "Cas!" he calls. "I know ... I know I said I wouldn't call ... I've been ignoring everything I hear in the news, like I promised ... But you can't leave him like this!" There's a loud smash, tinkling like ice shattering. "It's been weeks and he's not getting any better. Sam is ... there's so much he doesn't remember. He doesn't even remember Bobby. I just ... I don't know him. I don't know my brother anymore."
There's the sound of ragged breathing, sniffing, a strangled, "Cas, please," before it descends into weeping.
Adam waits a while, listening to Sam's brother crying. It's strange. He doesn't know the sound of anyone crying but Sam. He tries to compare them but then he can't stop thinking about Sam crying, and hopes that Sam isn't sad on his own. He crawls back out of the room and climbs the stairs, leaning over to touch Sam's door before retreating to his own room.
- - -
Adam spends the rest of the night with a blanket over himself rocking in the corner of his room-a comforting rhythm that quietens his mind and reminds him of Sam's arms around him. Bobby is the one to let them out of their rooms in the morning. Adam holds onto Sam's hands when he sees him but Bobby separates them when Sam has a shower, going so far as to make Adam sit outside in the hallway. Adam sits against the door, his cheek resting against the rough surface, his stomach curdling with a weight of unhappiness that he can barely deal with.
"It's good for you to spend some time apart," says Bobby, and even though Adam makes no response, the old man carries on talking. "You need to get your independence back, meet new people, see new-"
It's a relief when Bobby cuts off at the shrill tune filling in the air. Adam's eyes slide over to see Bobby pulling something, a cellphone, out of his pocket and start talking to it.
"Hey, wait, slow down," he says, turning away and taking a few steps back. "You what-?" he says after a long silence. "Hell's bells, Rufus ... yeah, I know it, just let me-" he ducks away into his room. Adam strains to hear the rest of it. "-more than 6 hours!" Bobby comes back out, clutching a collection of skin. "Just don't do anything stupid, make sure they don't find the phone ... Yeah, I'm leaving-I'm leaving right now."
Adam watches with wide eyes as Bobby shoves the phone back in his pocket and run-walks to Dean's room. Bobby barks at Dean to get up, and there's some incomprehensible mumbling in return. Bobby tries for several seconds before running out of the room.
Bobby takes off his hat, ruffles his hair, and swears loudly. He looks down at Adam, like he's sizing Adam up, and then starts drawing on a thin sheet of skin. He folds it up and pushes it under the crack of the door, then turns around to Adam.
"I need to leave," he says. "I've left a note for Dean; make sure he reads it when he gets up, all right? Look after yourself and Sam while I'm gone. I'm trusting you on this." His eyes are desperate, like he's trying to convince himself of that faith and Adam nods silently. Bobby strangles the hat between his hands before putting it back on, nodding to himself. "Right. I'll be back as soon as I can."
And then he's gone, rapid footsteps leaving Adam alone with only the sound of running water from Sam's shower. He stands up, and pulls the "note" out from under the door. It's full of scratches written in black blood, and the texture of the sheet is rougher than any skin Adam's felt. He looks down the hallway to where Bobby has left and to the bathroom door where he can hear the faint sounds of Sam washing under the water. He makes a decision.
He pushes Dean's door open slowly. Dean is gurgling and moaning like his lungs are punctured and he snorts loudly when Adam steps into the room.
"Uh, whaddiya saying ... Bobby?" His eyes crack open a sliver before closing again. "God, my head."
"Bobby's taking me and Sam outside," says Adam. "He says you should stay in bed."
Dean mumbles unintelligibly in reply before flopping over on the bed. "Yeah, I ... good. Sleep. 'Kay, Sammy."
Sam is out of the shower when Adam walks in-standing naked dripping water on the floor, rubbing himself dry. Adam feels worms squirming in his torso, and he can barely contain himself as he runs over, pulling Sam down into a passionate kiss. Sam freezes, surprised, but kisses back, resting a damp hand on Adam's waist, just touching the gap of skin between his shirt and pants. When they pull away his forehead is creased with worry.
"Adam ... I don't think we're meant to ... Dean said," he says, watching as Adam tears the note into tiny pieces, before throwing it into the sink and rinsing it away.
Adam takes Sam's hand, his stomach twisting with uncertainty. "We've only got a bit of time. Dean is still lying down, and Bobby's out. Please, it's been so long."
Sam's mouth opens a fraction and he licks his lips. "They're not watching us?"
Adam nods and Sam relaxes, a tiny smile appearing on his face that Adam returns with brilliance. They leave Sam's clothes on the floor and walk downstairs together. It's not far enough, Adam can still hear Dean's gurgling breaths.
They open the door to outside, the light is blinding, and the expanse of space stretches around them. Adam hangs back for a second, but Sam turns around, gives him a quizzical look, and the tension in his chest releases slightly. He isn't on his own.
They walk out further. It's beautiful; muted blues, sharp greens and soft browns, like it's constructed from Sam. He still can't remember what many of the objects are out here, nothing is familiar except the rotting metal skeletons of things like the black car that they saw when they were first pulled out of Lucifer's realm. They walk past the cars until they are far enough away that they can't see the house. There's a faded green car blocked in by larger cars, and Adam decides it will be the best for hiding.
It takes him and Sam a while before they can open the door and crawl into the back. Adam follows Sam, who turns around and pulls Adam on to his lap. Adam is enveloped in a tight hug, Sam pressing kisses to Adam's hair.
"God, Adam," says Sam. "I can't stand it. I want you, want you so much."
Adam captures Sam's mouth in a kiss, strokes his hands up Sam's back to anchor them in Sam's hair. His cock is stiffening, rubbing against the his pants, and he thrusts forward against Sam.
"Fuck me," he whispers, pulling away. "Fuck me, please, please-"
Sam lifts him up onto his knees, pulling his pants off while Adam wrestles to get his top off. The shirt blocks his vision for a second before it's pulled over his head, and then he sees Sam drinking him in, eyes wide and dark.
Adam's body is vibrating with excitement as Sam reaches out a hand, gripping Adam by the waist and guiding him down. Sam's hard cock grazes him, and he sways, letting it rub between his cheeks, just catching his hole on each pass. Sam's head goes back and he groans, resting his head against the window as he gazes up with slitted eyes.
Adam can feel his cheeks slicking up from the precome and he presses down experimentally on the head. His hole expands to let in the head but only slightly and it burns. He lifts back up, hissing in surprise. It's not like it always was-wet and messy, and he's confused. Sam's hands dig into Adam's thighs.
"Just, give me a second," says Adam, and he puts his finger into his mouth, coating it in spit.
He doesn't know if this will work, but it's too dry now. He leans forward, bracing himself against Sam's shoulder as he reaches back. One finger is easy, slides right in, and he repeats it, getting his finger wet before pushing the spit in himself. Sam's eyes glint as he watches, gripping his cock in one big hand. Adam bites his lip as he stares at Sam's cock, and the bead of precome glistening on the head.
He's not sure if he's ready, but it feels easier to thrust his finger in and he can't wait any longer. He grabs Sam's cock and guides it to his hole, and it's in, pushing its way into Adam's body-a line of fire as he drops down into Sam's lap.
Sam's hips thrust upwards, but Adam stops him, holds himself still as he tries to get used to the length splitting him open, burning him up from the inside. He tries moving and gasps at the sensations; it hurts, but fulfillment fills him at the feeling of his body and Sam's connected. He drops down and pulls back up, relishing the feeling of Sam's length rubbing inside him as it leaves, before it fills him again.
Sam's eyes flutter as he's pulled into Adam's body and he cries out Adam's name. Adam picks up a rhythm, slamming down onto Sam's crotch, a slap-slap-slap as their skin sticks together.
"Adam, I missed this so much, I missed you," Sam gasps, and bites down on his own hand.
Adam holds himself steady with two hands on Sam's shoulders, squirming as he slams down, trying to get just the right position to scratch that itch inside him. His cock is swinging freely, hitting his belly on each thrust, an erratic flash of pleasure. He's panting, balls pulling up as he climbs higher. Just a little more-
And then Sam grabs his hips and slams Adam down to the base of his cock hard, balls slapping against Adam's ass and hips thrusting in frantically, groaning as he comes. Adam cries out at the piston firing of Sam's cock inside him, and grabs at his own, squeezing hard and spitting out his orgasm between them.
He collapses forward, forehead resting on Sam's shoulder, and pants. He squeezes Sam's softening cock inside him. He doesn't want Sam to pull out yet. Sam sighs, rubbing his arms up Adam's body and pressing kisses to his neck.
"I love you," Sam whispers into Adam's skin, again and again.
Adam feels tears sparking up and he squeezes his eyes shut.
"I can't stand it," he says, shaking his head back and forth, brushing against Sam's shoulder. "I just want to be with you, and they-"
Sam shushes him, touches Adam's face gently and makes him lift his head. "It's okay," he says, cupping Adam's face. "I won't let them separate us ... even if we have to leave here."
And he pulls Adam in and holds him tight. Adam relaxes against Sam's body, curling up into that warmth, and Sam kisses and strokes his hair.
They sit there for a while, long enough that the stuffy air from their activities starts to cool down. A draft from a crack in the door tickles Adam's spine and he shivers. It's not the burning cold of Lucifer that freezes his skin blue; it's just non-angelic, slightly uncomfortable cold. But what difference does it make if he feels comfortable or not? He huddles in closer to Sam but he can't stop the minute shaking that overtakes his body.
"I'm cold," he admits.
Sam makes a noise of concern, and rubs his arms briskly down Adam's back, and then traps Adam's cold hands between his thighs. Adam smiles but he's still shivering, and Sam says hesitantly, "We could go inside?"
Adam turns and looks out the window. He can't see it from here, but in this open sea of unfamiliar space, the idea of being back in the one place he knows is somewhat comforting.
"If we had a shower..." Sam trails off.
Adam thinks of the house, always warm, with as much hot water and extra blankets as he wants. The image of standing under falling hot water, steam filling the bathroom, floats through Adam's head. He can bear this cold, he has for so long, but it hits him suddenly that he doesn't need to. It doesn't have to hurt anymore. He has a choice.
He shifts, shivers again, then nods his head.
Adam gets out first, helping Sam, whose legs have fallen asleep, out of the car. They pick their way through the graveyard of cars, holding each other's hands. Adam's muscles are loose, his body feeling raw and new. Adam glances up at Sam and sees a flush on pink in his cheeks-he looks more vibrant and alive than he has in a long time. When they arrive at the house Sam opens the door and nudges Adam in, wrapping his body around Adam from behind, enveloping him in warmth. Adam snorts and lets Sam manhandle him before darting away, then grabbing Sam's hand and leading him up the stairs.
Dean hasn't gotten up yet. Adam tries to walk lightly down the corridor to the bathroom, easing open the door quietly-he doesn't want this moment between just him and Sam broken yet. They both muddle through getting the hot water to come out of the shower-it's alternately too hot or too cold, until they get it just right. They step in together and Adam sighs as the hot water cascades over his shoulders. Sam brushes his hand up Adam's neck and into his hair, and Adam thinks about how this moment right now, is okay-it's different from the cage, no one to tell them what to do, but he's not paralyzed by this unfamiliar freedom if he has Sam. They can navigate it together.
Sam massages his fingertips into Adam's scalp, a smile curving his lips.
Adam looks up at him through half-closed eyes and asks, "What are you thinking about?"
"I was just remembering," says Sam, "when we had that time together on our own down there. Lucifer and Michael were busy fighting each other, and you came to find me."
Adam nods and brings up his arm to circle Sam's hip. It was the happiest he can ever remember feeling.
Sam swallows. "I was ... I was really close to giving up then. And then you, you saved me ... and that time with you gave me the strength to keep going, even when Lucifer took us back."
"I thought ... what about Dean?"
Sam shakes his head. "That wasn't what got me through everything. I waited a long time to see Dean again, and I want it to work out here, but you're the most important thing to me. I can't do this ... not without you."
Adam's eyes sting and he ducks his head. He doesn't know how to address Sam's hopes for things with Dean, but he wants to return everything Sam said about Adam. Eventually he just manages to whisper, "Me too ... I love you too."
They hold each other under the shower, water washing away any tears as it runs over their entwined bodies. Sam's chest moves against his body, so close that it feels like they are breathing as one; their forms wrapped together so tightly that no one, not even Dean or Bobby, could pull them apart.