Fic: The Links We Share
Title: The Links We Share
Fandom: Supernatural
Genre: Pre-slash (This is the first in a series that will be a Sam/Dean slash series. That said, it can be read as a gen standalone as well.)
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2046
Beta: heartsonwings - thank you so much!
Spoilers: Season 7 aired episodes
Summary: Sam and Dean are bonded together after a ritual gone wrong. While they’re adjusting to their new situation, the brothers still have to deal with the realities of hunting.
A/N: Written for trollmela, I really hope you like this after the long wait!
Dean had always hated being apart from Sam. Growing up, needing to protect Sam had been engrained into him; knowing that they had to stick together, look after each other, was a fact of life. It hadn’t changed much as Sam had got older. As different as they were, as irritating as they could sometimes be to one another, they both enjoyed each other’s company. When Sam had gone to Stanford, Dean had missed him like crazy; more than he’d ever thought was possible. But never before had it hurt this much to be apart. And Sam was only out getting gas in the car.
His head was aching; dull thuds that were punctuated with sharp, shooting pains whenever Sam thought too loud. And, man, was that wrong, because Sam was ten miles away driving back from the gas station and he shouldn’t know that but he did. But it got worse because he knew that, knew that Sam was on his way back and would only be a few more minutes but he was still missing him, still felt wrong inside.
They were so screwed.
If things carried on like this, there was no way they’d be able to split up on hunts and that’d slow things down. And if they got pissed at each other and needed some space things were going to be impossible.
He was five miles away and Dean doubled up, clutching at his stomach because it really fucking hurt. Cursing the damn hunter who had slipped up by giving them a bonding spell rather than the ritual they’d needed, Dean crossed over the room to stand at the window, gripped the sill tightly. A moment, and then the pain increased twofold, Sam’s pain merging with Dean’s own and, fuck, Sam was two miles away but he’d stopped.
Grabbing his cell, Dean dialled Sam’s number and waited because even if the lore was true and they’d eventually be able to read each other’s thoughts from this far away, he wasn’t ready to admit it yet.
Sam answered but didn’t speak, breathed deep and shaky instead.
“Why’d you stop, Sam? It fucking hurts.”
“I know, that’s why - had to - I can’t drive like this.”
“Damn.” He pressed his forehead against the cool glass of the window. “Okay, stay there. Don’t try to drive again.”
“I can’t stay here forever, Dean.”
“I know. I’m on my way.” Hanging up, he felt Sam’s moment of confusion and pushed it away. His brother would know soon enough.
Out of the motel room, he pulled the door shut and started running. Two miles was nothing, a mere warm-up compared to the lengths he’d run as a teenager, training up to be a hunter. Feet hitting against the tarmac, he tried to forget about the pain and just focused on breathing, slow and steady. He really should have lost his jacket before he’d set off but it was too late now and he was already feeling better, the closer he got to Sam.
One mile now and Sam was encouraging him, was sitting up a little straighter in his seat as Dean got closer. Round a bend and the car was in Dean’s sight and he started to sprint as the pain eased off a little more.
Ten seconds away and Sam got out of the car and closed the distance, wrapped his arms around him and Dean couldn’t even bring himself to care that they were in public and they were hugging because it felt so damn good. There was no more headache, just a warm feeling of calm as his breathing evened out.
“That was intense.” Sam stepped back, keeping his hand on Dean’s arm.
“That was fucking insane. Sam, this is going to screw everything up. If we can’t be apart for even a little while without that, what are we meant to do?”
Sam sighed. “I don’t know, but it looks like whatever we do, we’ll be doing it together.”
He nodded and glanced towards the Impala. “You didn’t scratch her or anything, did you?”
“She’s fine. And I am too so quit worrying.”
“Stop invading my head, dude.”
“Sorry.” Sam took his hand away. “I can’t exactly help it, you’re thinking pretty loudly.”
Tossing his head back to look up at the sky, Dean tried to think about beer and Zeppelin, anything that wasn’t too private.
“I don’t want you poking around in my thoughts either, you know. But we’re just going to have to deal.”
“There’s got to be something we can do, Bobby-”
“I’ve already asked him. He’s looking but he doesn’t know of anything that can break this kind of bonding ritual.”
Dean didn’t say anything; there was nothing to say. Instead, he began walking towards the car. Inside, he grabbed onto the wheel and waited for Sam to get in. They couldn’t go on like this forever, it was just too damn weird.
“We’ll do some research, speak to everyone we can.” Sam turned in his seat. “It could have been worse.”
“How could it possibly have been worse, Sam?”
“At least we bonded to each other and not the witch.”
“Okay, yeah.” He began to drive back towards the motel, ignoring the hand that Sam had rested on his knee. “It could have been worse.”
The short journey back was silent, although Dean could still feel Sam thinking. He wondered what Sam could feel from him, whether his brother could sense the tension or know how bad it had been in that motel room.
He pulled into the lot, killing the engine before twisting to look at Sam. “We should probably move on today. Hanging around here isn’t going to do anything and we don’t want the dead witch to be linked back to us.”
Sam nodded. “Okay, let me just grab a shower and we can head off. Any idea where you want to go?”
He shrugged. “We’ll just head on to wherever the road takes us, get out of the danger zone, and then start looking for a case.”
“Sounds good to me.”
Dean watched as Sam climbed out of the car and walked towards the motel, then quickly followed suit before his head began to hurt again. He wasn’t exactly sure how close they had to be for things to be as normal as possible.
---Another small town with one diner and a hundred nosy people, another motel room with scratchy sheets and chipped tiles, and Dean had realised that this thing wasn’t just going to disappear when they got to a new place. They were never that lucky.
Sam was in the bed next to him, quiet, but Dean could still feel him. It was strange, both calming and unsettling at the same time, to have this connection with Sam. He just couldn’t get his head around it. And Sam -the bitch - had managed to get to sleep.
“I’m actually still awake, Dean.”
“Oh.” He rolled over onto his side so that he could see Sam. “I guess I take that back, then.”
Sam snorted, shaking his head. “This is so out there, even for us.”
“I know. I’ve never even met anyone who was - anyone like this before.”
“Bonded. We’re bonded, Dean.”
“Yeah.” He smirked. “Let anyone talk about co-dependency now.” He felt, rather than saw, Sam roll his eyes.
“If neither of us is going to sleep, we should do something.”
“Go for a drink?” He scowled as Sam thought about how that was a bad idea.
“I meant research.”
“Nope, a drink sounds a lot more welcome right now than dusty old pages.” He didn’t want to read about how there was nothing that could be done for them, not tonight.
Sam sighed. “Fine. There was a bar on the way into town and-”
He understood why Sam stopped talking immediately as a sharp pain shot up his neck and into his head. Looking towards the door, he
reached for the knife under his pillow when he saw him. Leaning there against the wall, bold as brass, Lucifer.
“Well,” the devil stepped further into the room, “Two for the price of one. How interesting.”
And then he was gone.
Glancing at Sam, he saw his brother pinching himself and gasped as he felt the nip on his own arm. Great, so they felt each other’s pain as well.
“S’good of you to share your crazy with me, Sam.” He breathed deeply, reminding himself that it hadn’t been real; Lucifer was in the cage, far away from them.
“Now do you get it?” Sam was watching him, hopeful. “Do you get why it was so hard for me?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I get it now.”
---
They’d still come out to the bar because Dean wasn’t going to let any damn fake Devil stop him from living his life as normal. It was late and it was quiet, only a few stubborn locals still hanging around for another beer by the time they’d walked in.
“Some of your best whiskey, please.” He slapped some money down on the bar.
“Me too.” Even as he said the words, Sam’s eyes widened and he turned to glare at Dean.
“Hey,” Dean shrugged, “If I have to pick up your crazy, I guess it’s only fair you pick up my bad habits, too.”
“I hate it when you do that.” Laugh things off when you’re scared.
“I’m not.”
“Not laughing things off or-”
“Yeah, that.” It really was late if he was saying things like that out loud. He took the whiskey from the barman, knocked half of it back. “Can
you blame me?”
“No, I - me too, I mean.” Sam sipped at his own drink.
“You really don’t want to be here, do you?”
“I’d rather be sleeping, if we can.”
“Yeah.” He tossed back the rest of his drink. “Come on then, we’ll go back.”
“Are you sure?”
He didn’t say anything, just met Sam’s eyes.
“Okay.” Sam smiled. “Thanks.”
Nodding, he stood up and headed outside, knowing that Sam would follow. The air was cold, an almost welcome blanket of numbness that helped him to focus on himself rather than what Sam was thinking. In the distance, some lights flashed and then went out and he moved his attention to a different form of light, watched the way the stars lit up the sky.
“It helps.” He spoke as Sam stepped up next to him. “Focusing on the details, makes it a little easier to tune you out. You’re still in here, though, just hazier.”
“Of all places to find you both, a bar’s parking lot seems pretty apt.”
They both spun around as one, already reaching for the guns before they saw the thing’s face. The doctor from Sioux Falls. The Leviathan doctor.
“Yeah, it does.” Dean smirked. “We’ve kicked a lot of asses in bars. You’re next.”
The Leviathan laughed, taking a step forward. “You think?”
Tossing it’s head back, it showed it’s true form, teeth and more teeth, and Dean reached into his jacket for the hipflask he carried there now, knew he didn’t even need to tell Sam to head for the car. There wasn’t much borax in the flask but there was enough. Splashes of the liquid hitting its face made the Leviathan falter as parts of its skin began to burn, peeling off in strips.
“Do you think?” Grinning, he tossed more of the chemical at it before backing off as he heard Sam running back towards them.
“Here.” Sam handed him a machete before throwing a whole bottle full of the chemical at the Leviathan.
“My pleasure.” Swinging the tool in his hand, he took the thing’s head off whole.
“We need to go.” Sam was already starting back to the car.
“I’m right with you.”
Sam stopped for a second and smiled. “I know.”
Dean let Sam drive; he was too tired to do it and Sam had managed to catch a bit of a nap earlier in the day. “That was useful.”
Sam nodded. “I know. We were even more in sync than usual. Maybe not everything about this is a bad thing.”
Dean settled back in his seat, feeling more content than he had all day. Maybe Sam was right.
Fandom: Supernatural
Genre: Pre-slash (This is the first in a series that will be a Sam/Dean slash series. That said, it can be read as a gen standalone as well.)
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2046
Beta: heartsonwings - thank you so much!
Spoilers: Season 7 aired episodes
Summary: Sam and Dean are bonded together after a ritual gone wrong. While they’re adjusting to their new situation, the brothers still have to deal with the realities of hunting.
A/N: Written for trollmela, I really hope you like this after the long wait!
Dean had always hated being apart from Sam. Growing up, needing to protect Sam had been engrained into him; knowing that they had to stick together, look after each other, was a fact of life. It hadn’t changed much as Sam had got older. As different as they were, as irritating as they could sometimes be to one another, they both enjoyed each other’s company. When Sam had gone to Stanford, Dean had missed him like crazy; more than he’d ever thought was possible. But never before had it hurt this much to be apart. And Sam was only out getting gas in the car.
His head was aching; dull thuds that were punctuated with sharp, shooting pains whenever Sam thought too loud. And, man, was that wrong, because Sam was ten miles away driving back from the gas station and he shouldn’t know that but he did. But it got worse because he knew that, knew that Sam was on his way back and would only be a few more minutes but he was still missing him, still felt wrong inside.
They were so screwed.
If things carried on like this, there was no way they’d be able to split up on hunts and that’d slow things down. And if they got pissed at each other and needed some space things were going to be impossible.
He was five miles away and Dean doubled up, clutching at his stomach because it really fucking hurt. Cursing the damn hunter who had slipped up by giving them a bonding spell rather than the ritual they’d needed, Dean crossed over the room to stand at the window, gripped the sill tightly. A moment, and then the pain increased twofold, Sam’s pain merging with Dean’s own and, fuck, Sam was two miles away but he’d stopped.
Grabbing his cell, Dean dialled Sam’s number and waited because even if the lore was true and they’d eventually be able to read each other’s thoughts from this far away, he wasn’t ready to admit it yet.
Sam answered but didn’t speak, breathed deep and shaky instead.
“Why’d you stop, Sam? It fucking hurts.”
“I know, that’s why - had to - I can’t drive like this.”
“Damn.” He pressed his forehead against the cool glass of the window. “Okay, stay there. Don’t try to drive again.”
“I can’t stay here forever, Dean.”
“I know. I’m on my way.” Hanging up, he felt Sam’s moment of confusion and pushed it away. His brother would know soon enough.
Out of the motel room, he pulled the door shut and started running. Two miles was nothing, a mere warm-up compared to the lengths he’d run as a teenager, training up to be a hunter. Feet hitting against the tarmac, he tried to forget about the pain and just focused on breathing, slow and steady. He really should have lost his jacket before he’d set off but it was too late now and he was already feeling better, the closer he got to Sam.
One mile now and Sam was encouraging him, was sitting up a little straighter in his seat as Dean got closer. Round a bend and the car was in Dean’s sight and he started to sprint as the pain eased off a little more.
Ten seconds away and Sam got out of the car and closed the distance, wrapped his arms around him and Dean couldn’t even bring himself to care that they were in public and they were hugging because it felt so damn good. There was no more headache, just a warm feeling of calm as his breathing evened out.
“That was intense.” Sam stepped back, keeping his hand on Dean’s arm.
“That was fucking insane. Sam, this is going to screw everything up. If we can’t be apart for even a little while without that, what are we meant to do?”
Sam sighed. “I don’t know, but it looks like whatever we do, we’ll be doing it together.”
He nodded and glanced towards the Impala. “You didn’t scratch her or anything, did you?”
“She’s fine. And I am too so quit worrying.”
“Stop invading my head, dude.”
“Sorry.” Sam took his hand away. “I can’t exactly help it, you’re thinking pretty loudly.”
Tossing his head back to look up at the sky, Dean tried to think about beer and Zeppelin, anything that wasn’t too private.
“I don’t want you poking around in my thoughts either, you know. But we’re just going to have to deal.”
“There’s got to be something we can do, Bobby-”
“I’ve already asked him. He’s looking but he doesn’t know of anything that can break this kind of bonding ritual.”
Dean didn’t say anything; there was nothing to say. Instead, he began walking towards the car. Inside, he grabbed onto the wheel and waited for Sam to get in. They couldn’t go on like this forever, it was just too damn weird.
“We’ll do some research, speak to everyone we can.” Sam turned in his seat. “It could have been worse.”
“How could it possibly have been worse, Sam?”
“At least we bonded to each other and not the witch.”
“Okay, yeah.” He began to drive back towards the motel, ignoring the hand that Sam had rested on his knee. “It could have been worse.”
The short journey back was silent, although Dean could still feel Sam thinking. He wondered what Sam could feel from him, whether his brother could sense the tension or know how bad it had been in that motel room.
He pulled into the lot, killing the engine before twisting to look at Sam. “We should probably move on today. Hanging around here isn’t going to do anything and we don’t want the dead witch to be linked back to us.”
Sam nodded. “Okay, let me just grab a shower and we can head off. Any idea where you want to go?”
He shrugged. “We’ll just head on to wherever the road takes us, get out of the danger zone, and then start looking for a case.”
“Sounds good to me.”
Dean watched as Sam climbed out of the car and walked towards the motel, then quickly followed suit before his head began to hurt again. He wasn’t exactly sure how close they had to be for things to be as normal as possible.
---Another small town with one diner and a hundred nosy people, another motel room with scratchy sheets and chipped tiles, and Dean had realised that this thing wasn’t just going to disappear when they got to a new place. They were never that lucky.
Sam was in the bed next to him, quiet, but Dean could still feel him. It was strange, both calming and unsettling at the same time, to have this connection with Sam. He just couldn’t get his head around it. And Sam -the bitch - had managed to get to sleep.
“I’m actually still awake, Dean.”
“Oh.” He rolled over onto his side so that he could see Sam. “I guess I take that back, then.”
Sam snorted, shaking his head. “This is so out there, even for us.”
“I know. I’ve never even met anyone who was - anyone like this before.”
“Bonded. We’re bonded, Dean.”
“Yeah.” He smirked. “Let anyone talk about co-dependency now.” He felt, rather than saw, Sam roll his eyes.
“If neither of us is going to sleep, we should do something.”
“Go for a drink?” He scowled as Sam thought about how that was a bad idea.
“I meant research.”
“Nope, a drink sounds a lot more welcome right now than dusty old pages.” He didn’t want to read about how there was nothing that could be done for them, not tonight.
Sam sighed. “Fine. There was a bar on the way into town and-”
He understood why Sam stopped talking immediately as a sharp pain shot up his neck and into his head. Looking towards the door, he
reached for the knife under his pillow when he saw him. Leaning there against the wall, bold as brass, Lucifer.
“Well,” the devil stepped further into the room, “Two for the price of one. How interesting.”
And then he was gone.
Glancing at Sam, he saw his brother pinching himself and gasped as he felt the nip on his own arm. Great, so they felt each other’s pain as well.
“S’good of you to share your crazy with me, Sam.” He breathed deeply, reminding himself that it hadn’t been real; Lucifer was in the cage, far away from them.
“Now do you get it?” Sam was watching him, hopeful. “Do you get why it was so hard for me?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I get it now.”
---
They’d still come out to the bar because Dean wasn’t going to let any damn fake Devil stop him from living his life as normal. It was late and it was quiet, only a few stubborn locals still hanging around for another beer by the time they’d walked in.
“Some of your best whiskey, please.” He slapped some money down on the bar.
“Me too.” Even as he said the words, Sam’s eyes widened and he turned to glare at Dean.
“Hey,” Dean shrugged, “If I have to pick up your crazy, I guess it’s only fair you pick up my bad habits, too.”
“I hate it when you do that.” Laugh things off when you’re scared.
“I’m not.”
“Not laughing things off or-”
“Yeah, that.” It really was late if he was saying things like that out loud. He took the whiskey from the barman, knocked half of it back. “Can
you blame me?”
“No, I - me too, I mean.” Sam sipped at his own drink.
“You really don’t want to be here, do you?”
“I’d rather be sleeping, if we can.”
“Yeah.” He tossed back the rest of his drink. “Come on then, we’ll go back.”
“Are you sure?”
He didn’t say anything, just met Sam’s eyes.
“Okay.” Sam smiled. “Thanks.”
Nodding, he stood up and headed outside, knowing that Sam would follow. The air was cold, an almost welcome blanket of numbness that helped him to focus on himself rather than what Sam was thinking. In the distance, some lights flashed and then went out and he moved his attention to a different form of light, watched the way the stars lit up the sky.
“It helps.” He spoke as Sam stepped up next to him. “Focusing on the details, makes it a little easier to tune you out. You’re still in here, though, just hazier.”
“Of all places to find you both, a bar’s parking lot seems pretty apt.”
They both spun around as one, already reaching for the guns before they saw the thing’s face. The doctor from Sioux Falls. The Leviathan doctor.
“Yeah, it does.” Dean smirked. “We’ve kicked a lot of asses in bars. You’re next.”
The Leviathan laughed, taking a step forward. “You think?”
Tossing it’s head back, it showed it’s true form, teeth and more teeth, and Dean reached into his jacket for the hipflask he carried there now, knew he didn’t even need to tell Sam to head for the car. There wasn’t much borax in the flask but there was enough. Splashes of the liquid hitting its face made the Leviathan falter as parts of its skin began to burn, peeling off in strips.
“Do you think?” Grinning, he tossed more of the chemical at it before backing off as he heard Sam running back towards them.
“Here.” Sam handed him a machete before throwing a whole bottle full of the chemical at the Leviathan.
“My pleasure.” Swinging the tool in his hand, he took the thing’s head off whole.
“We need to go.” Sam was already starting back to the car.
“I’m right with you.”
Sam stopped for a second and smiled. “I know.”
Dean let Sam drive; he was too tired to do it and Sam had managed to catch a bit of a nap earlier in the day. “That was useful.”
Sam nodded. “I know. We were even more in sync than usual. Maybe not everything about this is a bad thing.”
Dean settled back in his seat, feeling more content than he had all day. Maybe Sam was right.