Prompts 16 - 18 from the table "Paranormal" for spn_30snapshots
Title: "Crash, crash, burn let it all burn (This hurricane is chasing us all underground.)"
Authorthe_milky_way
Character(s)/Pairing: Sam Winchester (Sam/Demon!Brady)
Theme: 03 Paranormal
Prompt(s): 16. Cemetery , 17. Magic, 18. Death
Rating: R
Words: 2.264
Disclaimer: Characters belong to Kripke and Warner. I don't own anything.
Warnings: spoilers for 5.20
Beta: fly_bluebird, Thank you.
Summary:
Pain.
Such a simple feeling. Such a complicated emotion.
Notes: This is for slippery_fish, who gave me the prompt SPN - Sam/Demon!Brady - It's not fun unless someone bleeds.
Title is taken from 30 Seconds to Mars' "Hurricane"
Pain.
Such a simple feeling. Such a complicated emotion.
It hits Sam the second he sees Brady sitting there, tied to a chair, Dean next to him looking somewhat guilty and very, very curious. But Sam has no time, no patience for Dean right now. Because Sam is busy trying to breath, to think, to function.
The pain grows, almost cripples him when Brady beings to speak. The demon taunts him, smirks, laughs and is so damn self assured. It makes Sam nauseous. Sam can’t breathe, can’t look anywhere but at the thing that’s sitting right in front of him.
He knows he’s not in his right mind when he shuts Dean into the bathroom, knows he’s acting on instinct when he closes the door to the room the demon is in.
Dust is clouding the air, illuminated by the little light that makes it through the cracks in the boards and the dirty glass of the window. Sam has no idea where the light is coming from though. Sam doesn’t even know which time it is.
Sam only knows that this is very fucked up. Even for him.
There is so much history between them, so many hidden things Sam doesn’t want to ever come out again. He doesn’t want to acknowledge what he sees. He doesn’t want it to be real. Because Brady being there means almost everything he’s ever thought good and held close was a lie.
Well, everything despite Dean.
Everything despite the pain he still feels, always has felt ever since his dream - his delusion - of a normal life shattered.
Brady was the one giving him hope, starting it all. Brady was the one showing him how it could be if he allowed himself to just feel, to just be. Brady introduced him to Jess when everything else between them was said and done.
Sam doesn’t know what to think.
So he just stands there and looks. He doesn’t stare. Not really. He just looks, takes it all in. Takes Brady in and wonders if it’s true. Sam wonders if the demon has been there all along and knows deep down that the answer is yes.
“So Sammy. What’ya gonna do now? Hit me? See my blood running down my skin and lap it all up. I know you want to. I know that Ruby got you hooked. Man, if I had know that this was all it took, I’d let you bite me a little more back then.” The demon - no Brady, because this really is the Brady Sam had known for most his time at Stanford - he smirks and winks at Sam, still taunting and so damn sure that Sam really does want to hit him. Sam wants to hit him hard.
Sam wants to see blood. Because as much as he hates to admit it, blood has always been a turn on for him. At least when it came to his relationships with men.
Sam looks at the door, knows that Dean won’t take long to free himself. He doesn’t have much time. Sam’s just not sure what he needs time for. Right now, he’s just glad Dean’s not in the room.
He looks at Brady again, looks into the demon’s eyes and sees nothing but himself. He sees the souls lost, sees memories that aren’t true anymore, aren’t worth to be treasured anymore. Sam sees what he’s losing right now, sees the cemetery of his soul, of his life.
Memories and dreams, buried alongside what Sam has always thought was true and precious. Everything he’s held on to during the last years, everything he deemed safe enough to remember fades away with the knowledge that it means nothing now, vanishes within inky black orbs like the rest of his life that is already part of one black hole.
“Come on, Sammy,” Brady says smoothly, collected. He sounds so much like he’s always done that Sam swallows a sob.
This is his life.
“Forget. Remember.”
That’s what Sam says.
The demon blinks and for a second the black is gone. For a second, it’s just Brady again. Sam wants to cry.
***
“Forget? Remember? How does that work?” The demons sounds curious, sounds like Brady when they were holed up in the library and tried to figure out the meaning of life. Times long gone, times that now have lost every meaning to Sam.
“Magic,” Sam says. And he means it. He feels crazy having that kind of conversation with a demon while his brother is frantic and pounding away against the door. Time’s running out and Sam still hasn’t figured out what he’s doing here or what he wants.
“Magic? Nice one, Sammy. Care to explain?” Brady snorts. And Sam is still having a hard time thinking of him as Brady even though he logically knows that this is Brady.
“Don’t call me that,” Sam answers, moves closer to the chair and feels a certain satisfaction at the way Brady tries to move backwards and can’t. Trapped. Captured. Bound. Yeah, Sam thinks, been there and done that.
This time, it’s Sam who smirks.
“I want to forget everything I’ve ever did with you, everything you ever said to me, did to me. But… I want to remember how you looked like when I ended your life and didn’t feel bad about it. The magic in this is that I can do it without having to touch you.”
Brady blinks and then he smiles all wide and - Sam thinks he looks happy. It’s so absurd that Sam wants to laugh out loud because how can Brady look this happy when Sam just threatened his life?
“Oh Sammy… we both know how much you loved touching me. We both know how much you always wanted it. Have to say, I was a little disappointed when you turned to Jess totally and never came back. You can’t just walk away like that, Sam. But then, that’s what you do, huh? Walked away from Dean and Dad, walked away from me, from Sarah, from Maddie in sixth grade. Walked away from Ruby, too. Oh wait, no, you were too weak to do that. You let Dean do all the work.”
Sam doesn’t flinch. It hurts to hear it all, it scares him that his life apparently isn’t his but then he has learned in the last years that it really never was. Sam blinks. No.. He won’t let Brady get to him like this. They said screw destiny, so that’s what Sam will do.
He smiles, shakes his head and turns to open the door. Every violent thought has suddenly left him. He was about to hit, was about to rage and scream and demand answers. It won’t help any, won’t bring them close to what they want to know, to what they need. It will just screw with Sam’s head even more than it already has. It’s time that he isn’t alone with this anymore.
“What now? Get your brother to do all the work again? Aww, Sam, should have known you couldn’t do stuff on your own. Never could. That’s why you always came to me, huh? Come on, Sammy. Come back here. You can hit me? I know you want to. Sam. You know how my blood tastes and I know you want it right now. Remember? You used to bite so hard that I had bruises and drops of blood running down my skin.”
Sam’s hand stills on the doorknob.
Dust settles around his shoes while he stands there and thinks. He doesn’t want to think. Doesn’t want to remember.
***
Sam remembers. It feels like dying, feels like death is descending upon him, and he can’t fight it.
He closes his eyes, shivers against the cold running down his spine, and prays for Brady to shut up.
Sam’s so hard it hurts.
Just the thought, the image of what Brady put into his head, is enough to have him choke on a breathe and desperately searching for safe thoughts. This is not good. Not good at all.
Because he never really had a healthy relationship with Brady. Not when it came to this. Not when it came to Sam trying to satisfied a deep urge that no one but Brady seemed to understand.
They ventured far. Sometimes too far, way out of Sam’s comfort zone. And he thinks that this was one reason why he turned to Jess so completely and committed so fast. It was too much, too deep, too out of every limit Sam’s had ever set for himself.
Sam had enjoyed it too much.
“Yeah. You do remember. Come over here, Sam. I’m right here. You wanna. I know you do,” Brady whispers, doesn’t need to be louder because Sam can hear him loud and clear.
No. Sam shakes his head. He won’t. He doesn’t want to. He swore himself to never let it get this far again. He knows he’s crossed that line with Ruby already but he still tries to tell himself that this was different.
He takes a deep breathe and turns, blinks in surprise when he’s almost half across the room without realizing he’s moved in the first place. The light is different, if suddenly or not, Sam can’t tell. But it seems darker somehow, seems fitting, and it scares Sam.
Brady tilts his head, inviting, offering. Neck muscles pulled tight and Sam moves in.
“Yeah, Sam. Good. Remember? It’s not fun until someone bleeds.”
Brady used to say this when they were watching hockey games during lazy evenings off, Jess somewhere with her girls and Sam talked into chips and beer. Brady also used to say it when they were tangled in soiled sheets, panting harshly and fighting for dominance. What a joke that really was, Sam thinks. Brady could have snapped his neck in every second of it. Maybe Sam should be grateful that he didn’t.
Brady licks his lips, eyes flash and then go completely black again. Arousal obvious and he isn’t even trying to squirm and hide it. Sam moves in, closer and closer until his nose is almost touching sweaty skin.
Sam breathes slow, steady. The scent is so familiar it makes him tear up, makes him shiver. Sam remembers suddenly and violently. Sees them writhing on the bed, Sam biting and licking, soothing and attacking. It’s so strong and painful that Sam whimpers, and Brady jerks as if slapped. Brady’s body is trying to arch towards Sam as if in anticipation of Sam’s next move, as if Brady wants it, too.
Sam is stuck in the memory though, doesn’t move closer, doesn’t move away.
[ There are drops of blood running down tanned skin, they soil the white t-shirt Brady always wears to bed and then the sheets Sam has just washed the day before. Brady moans loud and unabashedly, makes Sam suck at the tiny wound, and holds Sam close by the neck as if he wants Sam to bite more, to suck harder.
The scent of blood is heavy, heady, and Sam sways on his hands and knees. He leans down again, savors the drops that run freely now, and smiles against the skin when Brady moans even more.
This is what Sam’s been looking forward to all day. He’s felt watched, haunted and unsure if he was imagining things or of there really had been a black car at the corner of the street. Sam doesn’t think about it now, just enjoys the moment.
Brady swings his legs around Sam’s hips, thrust up every time Sam sucks hard at his skin. They are both so hard that Sam thinks there won’t be any real sex if they go on like this. The second Brady surges up hard when Sam bites down again, Sam forgets to think.
It’s always like this. Animalistic. No love lost. Not when it’s just them and their need. They fuck. Nothing more and nothing less. It’s to satisfy a need Sam is never able to identify.
Pure need. Pure desperation within Sam. This feels like freedom. This feels like death every time he allows himself to lose it, to abandon every little thing Dean or their father taught him.
Sam lets go of the control he always holds tight.
]
Sam gasps at the image, jumps when the door rattles in its old hinges, and he hears Dean shout his name. Dean. The present. Not something he’s left behind. He’s so close to Brady that he can see the fine hairs in his skin standing up. Sam breathes against them.
“Sam. Do it. Take it. You want it. It’s your destiny.”
Sam bites down hard.
He feels the blood explode on his tongue and groans. His hand clamps down hard where he’s holding on to Brady’s thighs. Warm blood floods his mouth and Sam’s draws back, looks into beautiful eyes he once thought where meant to be looking at him with hunger and maybe even love.
Now, there is fear.
“Screw destiny,” Sam says when he stands up and licks his bitten lip clean. “This is just not worth it.”
“Sam?” Brady sounds unsure now, worried even. Sam doesn’t answer, doesn’t know what to say now.
He opens the door, looks at Dean and feels nothing but relief.
Sam’s still so hard it hurts when he walks away from the room. Sam still wants what he can’t have, what he doesn’t allow himself to have. Not again. Not like this.
Authorthe_milky_way
Character(s)/Pairing: Sam Winchester (Sam/Demon!Brady)
Theme: 03 Paranormal
Prompt(s): 16. Cemetery , 17. Magic, 18. Death
Rating: R
Words: 2.264
Disclaimer: Characters belong to Kripke and Warner. I don't own anything.
Warnings: spoilers for 5.20
Beta: fly_bluebird, Thank you.
Summary:
Pain.
Such a simple feeling. Such a complicated emotion.
Notes: This is for slippery_fish, who gave me the prompt SPN - Sam/Demon!Brady - It's not fun unless someone bleeds.
Title is taken from 30 Seconds to Mars' "Hurricane"
Pain.
Such a simple feeling. Such a complicated emotion.
It hits Sam the second he sees Brady sitting there, tied to a chair, Dean next to him looking somewhat guilty and very, very curious. But Sam has no time, no patience for Dean right now. Because Sam is busy trying to breath, to think, to function.
The pain grows, almost cripples him when Brady beings to speak. The demon taunts him, smirks, laughs and is so damn self assured. It makes Sam nauseous. Sam can’t breathe, can’t look anywhere but at the thing that’s sitting right in front of him.
He knows he’s not in his right mind when he shuts Dean into the bathroom, knows he’s acting on instinct when he closes the door to the room the demon is in.
Dust is clouding the air, illuminated by the little light that makes it through the cracks in the boards and the dirty glass of the window. Sam has no idea where the light is coming from though. Sam doesn’t even know which time it is.
Sam only knows that this is very fucked up. Even for him.
There is so much history between them, so many hidden things Sam doesn’t want to ever come out again. He doesn’t want to acknowledge what he sees. He doesn’t want it to be real. Because Brady being there means almost everything he’s ever thought good and held close was a lie.
Well, everything despite Dean.
Everything despite the pain he still feels, always has felt ever since his dream - his delusion - of a normal life shattered.
Brady was the one giving him hope, starting it all. Brady was the one showing him how it could be if he allowed himself to just feel, to just be. Brady introduced him to Jess when everything else between them was said and done.
Sam doesn’t know what to think.
So he just stands there and looks. He doesn’t stare. Not really. He just looks, takes it all in. Takes Brady in and wonders if it’s true. Sam wonders if the demon has been there all along and knows deep down that the answer is yes.
“So Sammy. What’ya gonna do now? Hit me? See my blood running down my skin and lap it all up. I know you want to. I know that Ruby got you hooked. Man, if I had know that this was all it took, I’d let you bite me a little more back then.” The demon - no Brady, because this really is the Brady Sam had known for most his time at Stanford - he smirks and winks at Sam, still taunting and so damn sure that Sam really does want to hit him. Sam wants to hit him hard.
Sam wants to see blood. Because as much as he hates to admit it, blood has always been a turn on for him. At least when it came to his relationships with men.
Sam looks at the door, knows that Dean won’t take long to free himself. He doesn’t have much time. Sam’s just not sure what he needs time for. Right now, he’s just glad Dean’s not in the room.
He looks at Brady again, looks into the demon’s eyes and sees nothing but himself. He sees the souls lost, sees memories that aren’t true anymore, aren’t worth to be treasured anymore. Sam sees what he’s losing right now, sees the cemetery of his soul, of his life.
Memories and dreams, buried alongside what Sam has always thought was true and precious. Everything he’s held on to during the last years, everything he deemed safe enough to remember fades away with the knowledge that it means nothing now, vanishes within inky black orbs like the rest of his life that is already part of one black hole.
“Come on, Sammy,” Brady says smoothly, collected. He sounds so much like he’s always done that Sam swallows a sob.
This is his life.
“Forget. Remember.”
That’s what Sam says.
The demon blinks and for a second the black is gone. For a second, it’s just Brady again. Sam wants to cry.
***
“Forget? Remember? How does that work?” The demons sounds curious, sounds like Brady when they were holed up in the library and tried to figure out the meaning of life. Times long gone, times that now have lost every meaning to Sam.
“Magic,” Sam says. And he means it. He feels crazy having that kind of conversation with a demon while his brother is frantic and pounding away against the door. Time’s running out and Sam still hasn’t figured out what he’s doing here or what he wants.
“Magic? Nice one, Sammy. Care to explain?” Brady snorts. And Sam is still having a hard time thinking of him as Brady even though he logically knows that this is Brady.
“Don’t call me that,” Sam answers, moves closer to the chair and feels a certain satisfaction at the way Brady tries to move backwards and can’t. Trapped. Captured. Bound. Yeah, Sam thinks, been there and done that.
This time, it’s Sam who smirks.
“I want to forget everything I’ve ever did with you, everything you ever said to me, did to me. But… I want to remember how you looked like when I ended your life and didn’t feel bad about it. The magic in this is that I can do it without having to touch you.”
Brady blinks and then he smiles all wide and - Sam thinks he looks happy. It’s so absurd that Sam wants to laugh out loud because how can Brady look this happy when Sam just threatened his life?
“Oh Sammy… we both know how much you loved touching me. We both know how much you always wanted it. Have to say, I was a little disappointed when you turned to Jess totally and never came back. You can’t just walk away like that, Sam. But then, that’s what you do, huh? Walked away from Dean and Dad, walked away from me, from Sarah, from Maddie in sixth grade. Walked away from Ruby, too. Oh wait, no, you were too weak to do that. You let Dean do all the work.”
Sam doesn’t flinch. It hurts to hear it all, it scares him that his life apparently isn’t his but then he has learned in the last years that it really never was. Sam blinks. No.. He won’t let Brady get to him like this. They said screw destiny, so that’s what Sam will do.
He smiles, shakes his head and turns to open the door. Every violent thought has suddenly left him. He was about to hit, was about to rage and scream and demand answers. It won’t help any, won’t bring them close to what they want to know, to what they need. It will just screw with Sam’s head even more than it already has. It’s time that he isn’t alone with this anymore.
“What now? Get your brother to do all the work again? Aww, Sam, should have known you couldn’t do stuff on your own. Never could. That’s why you always came to me, huh? Come on, Sammy. Come back here. You can hit me? I know you want to. Sam. You know how my blood tastes and I know you want it right now. Remember? You used to bite so hard that I had bruises and drops of blood running down my skin.”
Sam’s hand stills on the doorknob.
Dust settles around his shoes while he stands there and thinks. He doesn’t want to think. Doesn’t want to remember.
***
Sam remembers. It feels like dying, feels like death is descending upon him, and he can’t fight it.
He closes his eyes, shivers against the cold running down his spine, and prays for Brady to shut up.
Sam’s so hard it hurts.
Just the thought, the image of what Brady put into his head, is enough to have him choke on a breathe and desperately searching for safe thoughts. This is not good. Not good at all.
Because he never really had a healthy relationship with Brady. Not when it came to this. Not when it came to Sam trying to satisfied a deep urge that no one but Brady seemed to understand.
They ventured far. Sometimes too far, way out of Sam’s comfort zone. And he thinks that this was one reason why he turned to Jess so completely and committed so fast. It was too much, too deep, too out of every limit Sam’s had ever set for himself.
Sam had enjoyed it too much.
“Yeah. You do remember. Come over here, Sam. I’m right here. You wanna. I know you do,” Brady whispers, doesn’t need to be louder because Sam can hear him loud and clear.
No. Sam shakes his head. He won’t. He doesn’t want to. He swore himself to never let it get this far again. He knows he’s crossed that line with Ruby already but he still tries to tell himself that this was different.
He takes a deep breathe and turns, blinks in surprise when he’s almost half across the room without realizing he’s moved in the first place. The light is different, if suddenly or not, Sam can’t tell. But it seems darker somehow, seems fitting, and it scares Sam.
Brady tilts his head, inviting, offering. Neck muscles pulled tight and Sam moves in.
“Yeah, Sam. Good. Remember? It’s not fun until someone bleeds.”
Brady used to say this when they were watching hockey games during lazy evenings off, Jess somewhere with her girls and Sam talked into chips and beer. Brady also used to say it when they were tangled in soiled sheets, panting harshly and fighting for dominance. What a joke that really was, Sam thinks. Brady could have snapped his neck in every second of it. Maybe Sam should be grateful that he didn’t.
Brady licks his lips, eyes flash and then go completely black again. Arousal obvious and he isn’t even trying to squirm and hide it. Sam moves in, closer and closer until his nose is almost touching sweaty skin.
Sam breathes slow, steady. The scent is so familiar it makes him tear up, makes him shiver. Sam remembers suddenly and violently. Sees them writhing on the bed, Sam biting and licking, soothing and attacking. It’s so strong and painful that Sam whimpers, and Brady jerks as if slapped. Brady’s body is trying to arch towards Sam as if in anticipation of Sam’s next move, as if Brady wants it, too.
Sam is stuck in the memory though, doesn’t move closer, doesn’t move away.
[ There are drops of blood running down tanned skin, they soil the white t-shirt Brady always wears to bed and then the sheets Sam has just washed the day before. Brady moans loud and unabashedly, makes Sam suck at the tiny wound, and holds Sam close by the neck as if he wants Sam to bite more, to suck harder.
The scent of blood is heavy, heady, and Sam sways on his hands and knees. He leans down again, savors the drops that run freely now, and smiles against the skin when Brady moans even more.
This is what Sam’s been looking forward to all day. He’s felt watched, haunted and unsure if he was imagining things or of there really had been a black car at the corner of the street. Sam doesn’t think about it now, just enjoys the moment.
Brady swings his legs around Sam’s hips, thrust up every time Sam sucks hard at his skin. They are both so hard that Sam thinks there won’t be any real sex if they go on like this. The second Brady surges up hard when Sam bites down again, Sam forgets to think.
It’s always like this. Animalistic. No love lost. Not when it’s just them and their need. They fuck. Nothing more and nothing less. It’s to satisfy a need Sam is never able to identify.
Pure need. Pure desperation within Sam. This feels like freedom. This feels like death every time he allows himself to lose it, to abandon every little thing Dean or their father taught him.
Sam lets go of the control he always holds tight.
]
Sam gasps at the image, jumps when the door rattles in its old hinges, and he hears Dean shout his name. Dean. The present. Not something he’s left behind. He’s so close to Brady that he can see the fine hairs in his skin standing up. Sam breathes against them.
“Sam. Do it. Take it. You want it. It’s your destiny.”
Sam bites down hard.
He feels the blood explode on his tongue and groans. His hand clamps down hard where he’s holding on to Brady’s thighs. Warm blood floods his mouth and Sam’s draws back, looks into beautiful eyes he once thought where meant to be looking at him with hunger and maybe even love.
Now, there is fear.
“Screw destiny,” Sam says when he stands up and licks his bitten lip clean. “This is just not worth it.”
“Sam?” Brady sounds unsure now, worried even. Sam doesn’t answer, doesn’t know what to say now.
He opens the door, looks at Dean and feels nothing but relief.
Sam’s still so hard it hurts when he walks away from the room. Sam still wants what he can’t have, what he doesn’t allow himself to have. Not again. Not like this.