Beauty and the Beast 15/?
Title: Beauty and the Beast 15/?
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC17
Disclaimer: I own nothing
Warnings: Wee!cest (Sam is 13), incest, language, mentions of extreme underage, rimming, bondage, dub-con, non-con
Summary: Long ago, the demon Azazel was told of a prophecy in which a boy king would emerge to lead the armies of darkness against the Light Bringer, a human who is said to have the power to seal the gates of hell forever. Finding the Boy King, he brought him to hell at only eight years of age. Now it is time for the boy to fulfill his role. There's only one problem: his love for a boy named Sammy.
Deep within the dark dungeons of Rosewood Manor, the sound of a creaking chair could be heard from the room that once served as a prison for little Samuel Winchester. Tied to that specific chair was a man, his long limbs contracting rhythmically as he slowly awakened from his forced slumber. The rope binding his wrists behind his back were kept together by magic, sparks radiating from his skin in a burst of white light that gave color to the otherwise opaque room he was currently housed in. Big eyes blinked their confusion into the darkness, searching for some kind of sign that would indicate the reason for his sudden imprisonment. Upon discovery of his restricted state, he struggled to free himself from his place on the chair, ceasing all attempts to get away when he heard two sets of footsteps coming towards him at a leisurely pace.
"H-hello?"
No answer.
"Uh…is…is there a reason why I'm here?"
The sound of the deadbolt sliding out of its holding place preceded the creak of the door as it slowly caved in to the hands of the person pushing it open, shallow breaths evidence of another being sharing his confined space. He heard another person walk in behind the first one, his presence a little less intense. As the two shadows moved closer to his body, he became distinctly aware of a certain aura invading his senses, the feeling making him shiver in anticipation.
"So, Balthazar…we meet again."
A groan escaped the lips of the bound man as Dean's voice descended upon his aching ears, the sound of it getting on his last nerve.
"Dean Winchester," he growled. "I should have known this was you. I thought you were in hell!"
Tiny slivers of moonlight cast an eerie glow on the face of the Winchester boy, his black eyes glittering menacingly beneath the silver light. The left side of his full lips curved upwards as he stared at the man in front of him, his patented smirk accompanied by a sinister disposition that frightened Balthazar. His fear intensified as he suddenly found the demon right in front of his face, his hands on the arms of the chair as he leaned in to murmur words of malice into the man's abused ears.
"I'm going to kill you, you know."
Balthazar grinned. "Oh, really? And just how the hell do you plan to do that, huh? I'm a fucking angel, Dean. Last time I checked, light outranked darkness."
Dean's dark chuckle shook the angel's self-confidence, the sound of it suggesting he'd lost the fight he didn't even realize he was having.
"I know what you're thinking. But I don't need an angel sword to take you down, Balthazar. See, there are certain…perks to being the savior of hell. Now, I've always liked you so I'm going to ask you a series of questions and if you answer correctly and honestly, I might consider allowing the continuance of your…irritating existence. Resist me, and I'll tear off your wings and fuck you up the ass with them. Am I clear?"
Balthazar's cocky grin faded as the enormity of his situation dawned on him. "Jesus…what the hell could you possibly want so badly that you had to kidnap an angel to get it?"
Rather than answer him, Dean rose from his position and walked over to the barred window, looking up at it in silence. Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he exhaled deeply before asking his first question. "Tell me all you know about the upcoming apocalypse."
"Sam? You okay in there?"
Smooth hands wiped a slew of wet trails left by angry tears, sorrow permeating the walls of Meg's tiny bathroom as Sam forced himself to relax his shaking muscles. Living without Dean was a total nightmare. How he'd managed to leave the boy in the first place was a mystery he didn't think he'd ever be able to solve. He'd thought being away from him would be easy. He was dead wrong.
"Honey, do you need anything? 'Cause you're scaring the shit out of me and in about two seconds, I'm gonna break down the door."
Sam smiled despite himself, the concern plaguing the words of his newfound friend making him like her even more than he thought he could. Standing to his full height, he observed himself in the mirror to make sure there was no evidence of his pain before slowly opening the door. Glaring at Meg as if she were annoying him, he shoved past her and stormed up the stairs to his bedroom, yelling something about nagging girls along the way. When he was safely secured within the walls of his sanctuary, he threw himself on his bed and stared up at the ceiling, watching the movements of the fan above him. He'd finally managed to fall into a semi-deep sleep before he was brutally awakened by the sound of flapping wings. He sat up in bed with a gasp, his heart tripling its beats tenfold as he gazed upon the face of the angel he'd met over a month ago.
"It's you! What the hell are you doing here?"
Castiel tilted his head quizzically as he considered the boy in front of him, his burst of emotion a strange sight to behold for someone who didn't have any. "Hello to you too, Samuel."
Sam stared incredulously at the stoic angel. Well, this day just keeps getting better and better, doesn't it? "I'm gonna ask again, Cas. What are you doing here?"
Castiel sat on the bed at Sam's feet without answering, staring at the boy thoughtfully. His silence angered Sam, who got out of bed with a huff and glared at the angel in front of him. "For fuck sake, tell me what you want!" he snapped.
The lack of reaction to Sam's outburst would have been laughable if the stoic angel wasn't already treading on thin ice. For the past month, Sam had been resigned to a reality of his own making, one that didn't include the one person he loved more than life itself. Living without Dean was beginning to wear him thin, each memory of his brother's kisses driving him further and further into the depths of his insanity. Sam was starting to feel like he was going crazy, a theory which proved correct when he starting throwing objects across the room in a fiery rage, tears streaming down his face the entire time. Cas watched the entire scene in silence, a strange sensation coursing through his body that he wasn't used to feeling. He was beginning to feel…sorry for the poor boy. Seeing Sam's mental breakdown reminded him of his empathy for humankind, a gift which he felt very few angels besides him possessed. Realizing how deeply he cared for the fate of his savior made him hesitate as he tried to determine whether or not what he came to tell the boy could wait another day.
Sam fell to his knees as the last of his anger drained from his body, crying so hard he could barely breathe. "What do you want from me?" he whispered.
Cas looked at the boy a long time before answering. "Have you ever heard of the Light Bringer?"
Hearing the familiar name, Sam stormed past the doe-eyed angel to rummage through the books cluttered all over his desk, pushing aside everything until he found what he was looking for. Turning the pages frantically, he stopped at a picture of a boy holding a long dagger, the corpses of what must have been thousands of demons scattered all over the ground at his feet. He was covered in blood from head to toe, peering at Sam through long bangs that plastered themselves to his youthful face. The hand not carrying the dagger was raised to show the head of another boy, his lifeless eyes frozen in an expression of utter torment. Focusing on the paragraphs above the grotesque picture, Sam glared at the prophecy he'd read a million times before that night Dean came back into his life, each word engrained into his brain like tattoos embedded in a person's skin. Without looking up, he began to speak.
"My father used to tell me this story all the time, the story of a boy with the power to seal the gates of hell. He used to say that Satan hated God for his devotion to humans. He said that one day, Satan would call upon a savior to lead the armies of darkness against this…Light Bringer or whatever. Not just any savior, but a human, one of the very humans that God loved more than his own angels. It was all meant to mock the Lord. You know, because he loves human beings so much. Supposedly, these two people are supposed to battle each other for the sake of their cause. If hell's Prince of Darkness won, then he'd force the Light Bringer to open hell's gates. This would let Satan out and when that happens…everyone dies." Sam looked up at Cas in confusion. "What does this have to do with me?"
"There's a reason why your father told you this story, Samuel. Do you remember when we first met? I told you that you had powers beyond even my comprehension. That wasn't just for nothing."
Silence filled Sam's bedroom as he stared at the hypnotic spirals decorating the walls, all the while trying to interpret the angel's cryptic words. Black, white and red circled simultaneously in a clockwise motion as he stared at the explosion of color assaulting his vision, his eyes expanding mercilessly to the pleasant sight. When the wheels in his head stopped turning, everything finally fell into place. He felt his body go still as the weight of his discovery sank into his aching bones, his shallow breaths becoming louder with each passing second.
"No," he whispered.. "It's not true."
Cas frowned as a great sadness washed over him, the boy's tears twisting his insides in a way he wasn't sure he liked. "Samuel-"
"Please," Sam sobbed, shaking his head vigorously. "Tell me it's not true."
The empathetic angel put his head down, staring at the floor. "I'm afraid it is, Sam."
Just then, two hands fisted the lapels of his trench coat, the hazel eyes staring back at him glossy with tears. "Stop lying to me," Sam begged. "Tell me it's not me, Cas. Tell me it's not me!"
"Sam…I'm sorry."
Cas caught the boy before he could fall to the ground, clutching Sam in his arms as violent sobs wracked his body. Sam buried his face in Cas's shoulder, the action confusing the bewildered angel. Emotion was never something he knew how to deal with. Being a heavenly being meant that you didn't really have them. But something inside of him ached for the Winchester boy, the pain that came with seeing the heart of your savior break right in front of you too great a burden for him to bear. Wrapping his arms around the child, he held on for dear life as Sam continued to cry, ignoring the sinking feeling of an angel in peril as he continued to comfort God's beloved Samuel.
"I don't know anything about a Light Bringer, I swear! Let me go! Please let me go. I'll do anything!"
White wings penetrated the body of a bruised and battered Balthazar, his frame bent over the wooden bench in the middle of the dark and gloomy dungeon. Blood fell from his split lip in thin rivulets down his pale chin, trickling down onto the floor in thick puddles of crimson as he screamed into the night.
"Tsk, tsk, tsk. You disappoint me, Balthazar," Dean replied, shoving the angel's wing deeper into his abused opening. "I thought we were friends? Now you're lying to me? This doesn't look good for you, now does it?"
"I'm not lying! I swear, I don't know anything! I tried to get information but he refused to give it to me!"
"Who refused?"
"God! Please stop! I can feel it tearing me apart!"
Dean laughed, ceasing his ministrations. "Call me crazy, but I believe ya. Alright Heathcliff, cut him loose. It's nothing but another dead-end. I'm starting to think this illusive Light Bringing doesn't even fucking exist."
As Heathcliff began to help the pained angel onto his feet, he was thrown forcefully onto the cobblestone floor before he could react. The sound of the altercation forced Dean to turn around and take in the menacing eyes of his latest victim, smirking at the way he limped over to the boy with as much strength as he could muster.
"You're going to pay for doing this to me, Dean Winchester. The first thing I'm going to do when I get out of here is burn this fucking house down. Then I'm going to find that little Sammy of yours and do to him exactly what you did to me. He's not gonna be able to shit for a month by the time I'm through with him!"
The threat to Sam's life erased the cocky smile Dean had on his face, rage replacing the joyful expression he'd sported watching the pathetic angel squirm beneath the sharp bone of his own wing. A primal growl formed in his throat as he attacked the man who dared to threaten his baby boy, throwing him face down on the floor as he shoved the wing back into Balthazar's body. Screams pierced the silent dungeon as Dean stabbed into him again and again, blood splattering all over his face. Heathcliff watched on in silence, smiling devilishly at his savior's act of pure violence.
Without warning, Dean flipped the man around and fell between his legs, biting his cock off and grinning at the uncontrollable wails of agony coming from the mouth of his enemy. The animal inside of him demanded death, calling out to him as he gave in to his twisted desires. Wrapping his fingers around the angel's throat, he squeezed until he heard the snapping of bone beneath his rough skin.
"Your pathetic race is going down. I'm gonna make sure of it," Dean whispered, tearing the man's head off and throwing it across the room with such force that the impact cracked the stone wall in half.
"Um…are you okay, sir?"
Dean's eyes focused on Heathcliff as he stood from his place on the ground, shaking uncontrollably as fear and longing implanted themselves within his malevolent heart.
"I want my Sammy."
The sleeping face of his savior made Cas smile as he sat quietly beside the slumbering boy, stroking his tear-stained cheeks with the adoration of a doting parent. Sam shivered under his ministrations, leaning into the touch.
"You're going to be okay, kid. I promise."
A loud ringing interrupted the angel's thoughts as he looked around the room, trying to detect where the strange sound was coming from. Getting up off the bed, he made his way over to the desk and ruffled through the books scattered all over the mahogany wood until he came across a black contraption with some sort of chord connected to the holder it was encased in, the annoying noise continuing as Cas stared at it in confusion. He'd heard of these things. Phones they were called. Picking up the device, he pushed the talk button and hesitatingly brought it up to his ear.
"Hello?"
Dean's eyes narrowed dangerously as he took in the gruff voice on the other end of the line, anger rising through him with the knowledge that another man was answering his Sammy's phone.
"Who the fuck is this?"
Cas exhaled deeply. "Hello, Dean."
"How the fuck did you know my name?"
"I've heard about you," Cas replied. "I'm Samuel's…friend."
Dean's breaths quickened as the anger inside of him boiled his blood. "What the fuck are you doing in my little brother's bedroom?"
Cas knew poking a beehive with a stick was a dangerous move, but the look on Sam's face made him realize just how much the kid needed his big brother. Thinking of his savior's happiness, he said the words he knew would spring the older boy into action, praying the whole time that Dean's anger wouldn't interfere with his love for his precious Samuel.
"When he wakes up, he can tell you. He's a little…exhausted at the moment. Do you want me to have him call you when he's conscious?"
The sound of the dial tone made the scheming angel smile.
Gotcha.
Dean gripped the steering wheel tightly in his fist as he sped all the way over to Meg's house, anger and jealousy fueling the fires he'd repressed since the day Sam walked out of his life. Life had been a deranged clusterfuck of misery and despair since he'd lost his Sammy, each night without him deepening the yearning he felt for the boy. He'd laid in bed since then tossing and turning, sweaty fingers clenching the bedspread as he forced himself to remain where he was, desperately fighting the urge to burst down Sam's door and fuck him into oblivion. The thought of someone else having what he couldn't made him snarl into the night, homicidal malice seeping into his pores as he imagined Sam with another man. He was done sacrificing himself for that child. Why should he when he's being cheated on by the one person he always thought he could trust?
Pulling into Meg's driveway, he hurled himself out of the car and lunged for the front door, kicking it open so hard it fell off its hinges and crashed onto the floor. Walking over the wooden frame, his eyes focused on the boy staring back at him, his stunned expression almost comical as his eyes glittered in the pale moonlight.
"Sammy."
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC17
Disclaimer: I own nothing
Warnings: Wee!cest (Sam is 13), incest, language, mentions of extreme underage, rimming, bondage, dub-con, non-con
Summary: Long ago, the demon Azazel was told of a prophecy in which a boy king would emerge to lead the armies of darkness against the Light Bringer, a human who is said to have the power to seal the gates of hell forever. Finding the Boy King, he brought him to hell at only eight years of age. Now it is time for the boy to fulfill his role. There's only one problem: his love for a boy named Sammy.
Deep within the dark dungeons of Rosewood Manor, the sound of a creaking chair could be heard from the room that once served as a prison for little Samuel Winchester. Tied to that specific chair was a man, his long limbs contracting rhythmically as he slowly awakened from his forced slumber. The rope binding his wrists behind his back were kept together by magic, sparks radiating from his skin in a burst of white light that gave color to the otherwise opaque room he was currently housed in. Big eyes blinked their confusion into the darkness, searching for some kind of sign that would indicate the reason for his sudden imprisonment. Upon discovery of his restricted state, he struggled to free himself from his place on the chair, ceasing all attempts to get away when he heard two sets of footsteps coming towards him at a leisurely pace.
"H-hello?"
No answer.
"Uh…is…is there a reason why I'm here?"
The sound of the deadbolt sliding out of its holding place preceded the creak of the door as it slowly caved in to the hands of the person pushing it open, shallow breaths evidence of another being sharing his confined space. He heard another person walk in behind the first one, his presence a little less intense. As the two shadows moved closer to his body, he became distinctly aware of a certain aura invading his senses, the feeling making him shiver in anticipation.
"So, Balthazar…we meet again."
A groan escaped the lips of the bound man as Dean's voice descended upon his aching ears, the sound of it getting on his last nerve.
"Dean Winchester," he growled. "I should have known this was you. I thought you were in hell!"
Tiny slivers of moonlight cast an eerie glow on the face of the Winchester boy, his black eyes glittering menacingly beneath the silver light. The left side of his full lips curved upwards as he stared at the man in front of him, his patented smirk accompanied by a sinister disposition that frightened Balthazar. His fear intensified as he suddenly found the demon right in front of his face, his hands on the arms of the chair as he leaned in to murmur words of malice into the man's abused ears.
"I'm going to kill you, you know."
Balthazar grinned. "Oh, really? And just how the hell do you plan to do that, huh? I'm a fucking angel, Dean. Last time I checked, light outranked darkness."
Dean's dark chuckle shook the angel's self-confidence, the sound of it suggesting he'd lost the fight he didn't even realize he was having.
"I know what you're thinking. But I don't need an angel sword to take you down, Balthazar. See, there are certain…perks to being the savior of hell. Now, I've always liked you so I'm going to ask you a series of questions and if you answer correctly and honestly, I might consider allowing the continuance of your…irritating existence. Resist me, and I'll tear off your wings and fuck you up the ass with them. Am I clear?"
Balthazar's cocky grin faded as the enormity of his situation dawned on him. "Jesus…what the hell could you possibly want so badly that you had to kidnap an angel to get it?"
Rather than answer him, Dean rose from his position and walked over to the barred window, looking up at it in silence. Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he exhaled deeply before asking his first question. "Tell me all you know about the upcoming apocalypse."
"Sam? You okay in there?"
Smooth hands wiped a slew of wet trails left by angry tears, sorrow permeating the walls of Meg's tiny bathroom as Sam forced himself to relax his shaking muscles. Living without Dean was a total nightmare. How he'd managed to leave the boy in the first place was a mystery he didn't think he'd ever be able to solve. He'd thought being away from him would be easy. He was dead wrong.
"Honey, do you need anything? 'Cause you're scaring the shit out of me and in about two seconds, I'm gonna break down the door."
Sam smiled despite himself, the concern plaguing the words of his newfound friend making him like her even more than he thought he could. Standing to his full height, he observed himself in the mirror to make sure there was no evidence of his pain before slowly opening the door. Glaring at Meg as if she were annoying him, he shoved past her and stormed up the stairs to his bedroom, yelling something about nagging girls along the way. When he was safely secured within the walls of his sanctuary, he threw himself on his bed and stared up at the ceiling, watching the movements of the fan above him. He'd finally managed to fall into a semi-deep sleep before he was brutally awakened by the sound of flapping wings. He sat up in bed with a gasp, his heart tripling its beats tenfold as he gazed upon the face of the angel he'd met over a month ago.
"It's you! What the hell are you doing here?"
Castiel tilted his head quizzically as he considered the boy in front of him, his burst of emotion a strange sight to behold for someone who didn't have any. "Hello to you too, Samuel."
Sam stared incredulously at the stoic angel. Well, this day just keeps getting better and better, doesn't it? "I'm gonna ask again, Cas. What are you doing here?"
Castiel sat on the bed at Sam's feet without answering, staring at the boy thoughtfully. His silence angered Sam, who got out of bed with a huff and glared at the angel in front of him. "For fuck sake, tell me what you want!" he snapped.
The lack of reaction to Sam's outburst would have been laughable if the stoic angel wasn't already treading on thin ice. For the past month, Sam had been resigned to a reality of his own making, one that didn't include the one person he loved more than life itself. Living without Dean was beginning to wear him thin, each memory of his brother's kisses driving him further and further into the depths of his insanity. Sam was starting to feel like he was going crazy, a theory which proved correct when he starting throwing objects across the room in a fiery rage, tears streaming down his face the entire time. Cas watched the entire scene in silence, a strange sensation coursing through his body that he wasn't used to feeling. He was beginning to feel…sorry for the poor boy. Seeing Sam's mental breakdown reminded him of his empathy for humankind, a gift which he felt very few angels besides him possessed. Realizing how deeply he cared for the fate of his savior made him hesitate as he tried to determine whether or not what he came to tell the boy could wait another day.
Sam fell to his knees as the last of his anger drained from his body, crying so hard he could barely breathe. "What do you want from me?" he whispered.
Cas looked at the boy a long time before answering. "Have you ever heard of the Light Bringer?"
Hearing the familiar name, Sam stormed past the doe-eyed angel to rummage through the books cluttered all over his desk, pushing aside everything until he found what he was looking for. Turning the pages frantically, he stopped at a picture of a boy holding a long dagger, the corpses of what must have been thousands of demons scattered all over the ground at his feet. He was covered in blood from head to toe, peering at Sam through long bangs that plastered themselves to his youthful face. The hand not carrying the dagger was raised to show the head of another boy, his lifeless eyes frozen in an expression of utter torment. Focusing on the paragraphs above the grotesque picture, Sam glared at the prophecy he'd read a million times before that night Dean came back into his life, each word engrained into his brain like tattoos embedded in a person's skin. Without looking up, he began to speak.
"My father used to tell me this story all the time, the story of a boy with the power to seal the gates of hell. He used to say that Satan hated God for his devotion to humans. He said that one day, Satan would call upon a savior to lead the armies of darkness against this…Light Bringer or whatever. Not just any savior, but a human, one of the very humans that God loved more than his own angels. It was all meant to mock the Lord. You know, because he loves human beings so much. Supposedly, these two people are supposed to battle each other for the sake of their cause. If hell's Prince of Darkness won, then he'd force the Light Bringer to open hell's gates. This would let Satan out and when that happens…everyone dies." Sam looked up at Cas in confusion. "What does this have to do with me?"
"There's a reason why your father told you this story, Samuel. Do you remember when we first met? I told you that you had powers beyond even my comprehension. That wasn't just for nothing."
Silence filled Sam's bedroom as he stared at the hypnotic spirals decorating the walls, all the while trying to interpret the angel's cryptic words. Black, white and red circled simultaneously in a clockwise motion as he stared at the explosion of color assaulting his vision, his eyes expanding mercilessly to the pleasant sight. When the wheels in his head stopped turning, everything finally fell into place. He felt his body go still as the weight of his discovery sank into his aching bones, his shallow breaths becoming louder with each passing second.
"No," he whispered.. "It's not true."
Cas frowned as a great sadness washed over him, the boy's tears twisting his insides in a way he wasn't sure he liked. "Samuel-"
"Please," Sam sobbed, shaking his head vigorously. "Tell me it's not true."
The empathetic angel put his head down, staring at the floor. "I'm afraid it is, Sam."
Just then, two hands fisted the lapels of his trench coat, the hazel eyes staring back at him glossy with tears. "Stop lying to me," Sam begged. "Tell me it's not me, Cas. Tell me it's not me!"
"Sam…I'm sorry."
Cas caught the boy before he could fall to the ground, clutching Sam in his arms as violent sobs wracked his body. Sam buried his face in Cas's shoulder, the action confusing the bewildered angel. Emotion was never something he knew how to deal with. Being a heavenly being meant that you didn't really have them. But something inside of him ached for the Winchester boy, the pain that came with seeing the heart of your savior break right in front of you too great a burden for him to bear. Wrapping his arms around the child, he held on for dear life as Sam continued to cry, ignoring the sinking feeling of an angel in peril as he continued to comfort God's beloved Samuel.
"I don't know anything about a Light Bringer, I swear! Let me go! Please let me go. I'll do anything!"
White wings penetrated the body of a bruised and battered Balthazar, his frame bent over the wooden bench in the middle of the dark and gloomy dungeon. Blood fell from his split lip in thin rivulets down his pale chin, trickling down onto the floor in thick puddles of crimson as he screamed into the night.
"Tsk, tsk, tsk. You disappoint me, Balthazar," Dean replied, shoving the angel's wing deeper into his abused opening. "I thought we were friends? Now you're lying to me? This doesn't look good for you, now does it?"
"I'm not lying! I swear, I don't know anything! I tried to get information but he refused to give it to me!"
"Who refused?"
"God! Please stop! I can feel it tearing me apart!"
Dean laughed, ceasing his ministrations. "Call me crazy, but I believe ya. Alright Heathcliff, cut him loose. It's nothing but another dead-end. I'm starting to think this illusive Light Bringing doesn't even fucking exist."
As Heathcliff began to help the pained angel onto his feet, he was thrown forcefully onto the cobblestone floor before he could react. The sound of the altercation forced Dean to turn around and take in the menacing eyes of his latest victim, smirking at the way he limped over to the boy with as much strength as he could muster.
"You're going to pay for doing this to me, Dean Winchester. The first thing I'm going to do when I get out of here is burn this fucking house down. Then I'm going to find that little Sammy of yours and do to him exactly what you did to me. He's not gonna be able to shit for a month by the time I'm through with him!"
The threat to Sam's life erased the cocky smile Dean had on his face, rage replacing the joyful expression he'd sported watching the pathetic angel squirm beneath the sharp bone of his own wing. A primal growl formed in his throat as he attacked the man who dared to threaten his baby boy, throwing him face down on the floor as he shoved the wing back into Balthazar's body. Screams pierced the silent dungeon as Dean stabbed into him again and again, blood splattering all over his face. Heathcliff watched on in silence, smiling devilishly at his savior's act of pure violence.
Without warning, Dean flipped the man around and fell between his legs, biting his cock off and grinning at the uncontrollable wails of agony coming from the mouth of his enemy. The animal inside of him demanded death, calling out to him as he gave in to his twisted desires. Wrapping his fingers around the angel's throat, he squeezed until he heard the snapping of bone beneath his rough skin.
"Your pathetic race is going down. I'm gonna make sure of it," Dean whispered, tearing the man's head off and throwing it across the room with such force that the impact cracked the stone wall in half.
"Um…are you okay, sir?"
Dean's eyes focused on Heathcliff as he stood from his place on the ground, shaking uncontrollably as fear and longing implanted themselves within his malevolent heart.
"I want my Sammy."
The sleeping face of his savior made Cas smile as he sat quietly beside the slumbering boy, stroking his tear-stained cheeks with the adoration of a doting parent. Sam shivered under his ministrations, leaning into the touch.
"You're going to be okay, kid. I promise."
A loud ringing interrupted the angel's thoughts as he looked around the room, trying to detect where the strange sound was coming from. Getting up off the bed, he made his way over to the desk and ruffled through the books scattered all over the mahogany wood until he came across a black contraption with some sort of chord connected to the holder it was encased in, the annoying noise continuing as Cas stared at it in confusion. He'd heard of these things. Phones they were called. Picking up the device, he pushed the talk button and hesitatingly brought it up to his ear.
"Hello?"
Dean's eyes narrowed dangerously as he took in the gruff voice on the other end of the line, anger rising through him with the knowledge that another man was answering his Sammy's phone.
"Who the fuck is this?"
Cas exhaled deeply. "Hello, Dean."
"How the fuck did you know my name?"
"I've heard about you," Cas replied. "I'm Samuel's…friend."
Dean's breaths quickened as the anger inside of him boiled his blood. "What the fuck are you doing in my little brother's bedroom?"
Cas knew poking a beehive with a stick was a dangerous move, but the look on Sam's face made him realize just how much the kid needed his big brother. Thinking of his savior's happiness, he said the words he knew would spring the older boy into action, praying the whole time that Dean's anger wouldn't interfere with his love for his precious Samuel.
"When he wakes up, he can tell you. He's a little…exhausted at the moment. Do you want me to have him call you when he's conscious?"
The sound of the dial tone made the scheming angel smile.
Gotcha.
Dean gripped the steering wheel tightly in his fist as he sped all the way over to Meg's house, anger and jealousy fueling the fires he'd repressed since the day Sam walked out of his life. Life had been a deranged clusterfuck of misery and despair since he'd lost his Sammy, each night without him deepening the yearning he felt for the boy. He'd laid in bed since then tossing and turning, sweaty fingers clenching the bedspread as he forced himself to remain where he was, desperately fighting the urge to burst down Sam's door and fuck him into oblivion. The thought of someone else having what he couldn't made him snarl into the night, homicidal malice seeping into his pores as he imagined Sam with another man. He was done sacrificing himself for that child. Why should he when he's being cheated on by the one person he always thought he could trust?
Pulling into Meg's driveway, he hurled himself out of the car and lunged for the front door, kicking it open so hard it fell off its hinges and crashed onto the floor. Walking over the wooden frame, his eyes focused on the boy staring back at him, his stunned expression almost comical as his eyes glittered in the pale moonlight.
"Sammy."