My Brother's Keeper, Part 9, Supernatural
Fandom: Supernatural
Title: My Brother's Keeper, Part Nine( Part One Here, Part Two Here, Part Three Here, Part Four Here, Part Five Here, Part Six Here, Part Seven Here, Part Eight Here)
Characters/Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC-17
Table: #1
Prompt: 076 Baby
Word Count: 2758
Summary: Complete AU. On the night the demon kills Mary Winchester, John saves Dean, but before he can go back for Sam, the fire spreads. It is assumed that Sam is dead along with his mother. In reality, he has been taken and is raised by a family dedicate to the demon who killed Mary. One night after a hunt, Dean runs into him in a bar in Palo Alto, never a clue who he really is.
Warnings: Incest, m/m sex, blood play, bondage, non-con. Evil-ness abounds--Babies and demons and blood and come...This one is completely un-beta'd folks...I haven't even re-read it this time...so...yeah...any glaring mistakes? Point them my way, okay?
This is my twenty-eighth ficlet for my Supernatural claim on 100_situations. Clicky for table
Dean shivered. No. He hadn’t heard her right. It was impossible. He tried to do the math in his head, but kept getting stuck on the words….Our daughter, Dean..
He held her at arms length and shook his head. “What? Cassie….I…what?”
She smiled tentatively. “She’s six months old, today.”
“Six months…fuck.”
“What?” She wiped her eyes with shaky hands. “What Dean?”
“That’s when it came for Sam. When it killed Mom.” Dean paced away and peered out the window. “Do you know where they took her?”
“No. The just…she was crying…she was crying and they wouldn’t let me hold her.”
Dean gathered her in his arms and tried to calm the rapid pounding in his heart. This couldn’t fucking be happening. “Okay…Cassie, I need you to calm down. We’re going to find her. I swear we’ll find her and it will be okay, but you need to calm down.”
As she pulled herself together, Dean tried to figure out just what kind of crazy game this fucking demon was playing at. It wasn’t generally into the whole worship thing that a sacrifice seemed to indicate. It killed…or that’s what they had always assumed. It killed mothers and infants on the night the infant was 6 months old. Sometimes it was thwarted, and the child lived.
Of course, now he had to reconsider that. If Sam had been taken, not killed…and now it seemed Cassie’s daughter…his daughter…was to suffer the same fate, though…Cassie was here, alive, not burned on some ceiling somewhere. Dean shook his head. He had to find his father…had to….Voices, headed toward them. Dean moved them closer to the door so he could see. Two robed figures were coming their way.
“Okay, Cassie. I need your help. Go stand in the middle of the room. Someone’s coming. They need to see that you’re here…and not see me.”
Dean flattened against the wall by the door. The door opened and Dean tensed. The first robed figure moved into the room, reaching for Cassie. Dean waited until he could see the second one in the doorway and pushed the door, hitting the second one and pushing the first. He hooked a foot under the first, and dropped him to the floor, whirling around to follow with a solid punch. He jumped for the second who was struggling to get up, yanked him into the room and punched him too.
“Come on.” He grabbed Cassie’s hand and all but dragged her out of the room, moving them into the cross hallway and praying he figured out what was going on before things got any uglier.
They crouched in the shadows on a catwalk above the ritual circle, Dean and Cassie, while Dean surveyed the scene below. The space was set up for serious ritual, and nearly complete at that. Dean could see the man he had known as Sam’s father, his robe lined with red. He was chanting at the altar, waving incense. They were too far away to make out what he was saying. Behind him, there was a table, under which the black tubs were waiting for the bleed out.
“You stay here. No matter what. I’ll come back for you.”
“You can’t leave me.”
Dean inhaled sharply. “I can’t….I have to. If I’m going to save Dana, I have to. You’ll be safe here. As long as you’re quiet.” There were more of them gathering below them, a circle forming. The chanting changed tenor and pitch. This was it. Dean leaned over the edge of the catwalk, looking for a sign of his father or Sam.
What he saw wasn’t the sign he was looking for. “Damn.”
He fished a gun out of the bag and pressed it into her hands. “Its got a full magazine. The rounds are blessed. It should cut down anything that comes at you. Don’t be afraid to use it.” He paused, then kissed her forehead.
His gut clenched as he spotted Sam being dragged away from where his father was held by two of the larger figures. The shotgun lay on the floor a few feet away. His father’s face was bloody. Sam was putting up a pretty good fight. Dean felt himself flush with arousal and shook his head. Fucking black magic. Fucking hexes. Sam was going to be the death of him yet.
John wasn’t sure how much was show, and how much was real, but he could feel fear rolling off of Sam as he was dragged away. His gut hurt from the sucker punch, and his nose was still bleeding. The demon wasn’t there yet though, he could tell. All around them they were forming a circle, and Sam was getting his clothes ripped from his body in preparation for getting laid on the table.
He knew Dean was nearby. He hoped he was following orders and not showing his hand before the thing that killed Mary showed its ugly face. The man at the altar turned toward them as Sam was finally naked, naked and hyperventilating through clenched teeth. “What the fuck is this?”
“Shut up Sam.”
The circle took up the chant, soft and low at first, but building. Sam fought against the hands now manhandling him toward the table. “I did my part. You can’t-“
“I said shut up, Sam.”
The man’s hand came up and Sam froze, rising out of his captors’ hands, his entire body rigid. John pulled against the hands that held him, trying to get closer, but a moment later he didn’t need to. The hood on his head fell back and his eyes glowed eerily. John took a deep breath and smiled to himself. This time it was real. Now all he needed to do was get his hands on the damn thing.
Those eyes flicked his way and John’s smile faded. “At last, the great John Winchester. I’ve waited a long time to watch you die.”
John didn’t rise to the bait, and managed to turn his eyes away, to Sam who was being strapped to the table. A robed figure handed the Demon his knife, and he pulled it from it’s sheath slowly, admiring the handiwork. “This is very nice, John. Who made it for you?”
John smiled at that, his eyes coming back to the demon’s. “Like I would tell you.”
It was in front of him now, and almost casually drew the tip of the blade over his cheek, drawing a line of fire and blood. “You will, so that I can return it to them, with gratitude.”
“You aren’t leaving this warehouse alive.”
It laughed and turned away. “On the contrary, John. Tonight is a very special night. Tonight is the night I am reborn. Tonight is the night I am made flesh.”
It paced away over to Sam, playing with the blade. “Call him.”
Sam shook his head and it drew a line down his leg with the blade. “Call him and maybe I’ll let him take your place.”
Sam shivered, pulling against the iron that held him to the table. “Dean. Come for me.” His voice sounded small in the big space, lost under the chanting.
“Louder. I don’t think he heard you.”
“Dean! Come for me!” Sam yelled, turning his face away from John’s, away from the demon. “Fuck you.”
Dean felt it, a sudden pull forward, even before he heard the words rise up over the chanting. “Fuck.” He grabbed a pillar and held on until he had a little power over it. He’d seen the whole floating Sam trick, and the look of fear on Sam’s face told him that he hadn’t been expecting it.
Turning his back to the pillar, Dean pulled out the knife, tucking it into his belt. The special gun he checked, then tucked into the back of his pants, pulling his shirt down to cover it. He was breathing heavy with exertion as he stepped free of the pillar and let the compulsion draw him.
“Call him again.”
Dean heard Sam whimper, and imagined he was probably getting cut again. “Let me up and maybe I will.” Dean thought he sounded angry, and more than a little scared.
There was screaming then and Sam’s voice cut through to him. “Dean! Now!”
Dean drew his knife as he neared the circle of robed figures. He had no choice but to obey, but he was going to do it on his own terms. Two of them went down at the same time, blood gushing out of slashed throats and Dean stepped through and over them. “I’m here, Sam.” He said it softly, but it fell into the sudden silence of the room like a rock.
Two of them came at him, and both fell, cut nearly in half. “Want to keep dying, keep coming.”
“There you are. I do hope my son wasn’t too hard on you. He can be quite cruel.” He stood over Sam, the knife point playing over his chest.
Dean stopped a few paces behind his father. “He isn’t your son. And yes, he can be quite cruel.”
“Save me, Dean. You promised.”
Dean took a few stumbling steps forward before he found his control again. “Don’t worry Sammy, not a single Winchester is dying today.”
“No?” Yellow eyes met Dean’s green ones, then both sets of eyes tracked to the knife as it cut deeper. “Tell me Dean…do you know what you get when you mix Mother’s blood with a Seer’s blood and then baptize a Seer in both?”
Cassie’s scream echoed through the room as her body flew through the air toward them, her stomach already torn and bleeding as she halted over one of the black vats. “Son of a bitch!” Dean threw his knife, and it slammed into its stomach. It stumbled backward and Cassie fell, but Dean knew from the sickening crash that she was already dead, her blood soaking her white dress, even as it spilled onto the cement floor. The gun clattered from her hand, skating across the floor until it stopped a few feet in front of Dean.
Slowly the demon wrapped a hand around the handle of the knife and pulled it from its borrowed body. “Is that the best you have, Dean?”
“Careful, Dean.” John’s voice rumbled low. “It’s trying to provoke you.”
“Yeah, well, it’s doing a fucking good job.”
“Dean, help me.”
Sam’s voice was like a hand stroking his cock and Dean’s knees trembled. “I’m helping Sam. Just let me work.”
“You’re unarmed now, Dean. What can you hope to accomplish? It is a beautiful blade. To bad you didn’t make very good use of it.” Several of the circle members were moving Cassie’s body, saving what of her blood wasn’t already puddling on the floor.
Two more came at Dean again. He rolled away, swinging an arm out and around the neck of the first, snapping it before he hit the ground, skidding until his hand closed on the gun, then turning and shooting two rounds into the head of the other. His next two shots were for the two holding his father, then he climbed back to his feet and held the gun out at the demon.
“That won’t kill me, Dean.”
“No, but I’d bet it stings like hell.” He squeezed off three rounds, two of which struck home, making it step back from Sam.
“Enough.” Dean felt his throat close up as if a hand was closing around him. The demon came closer and John launched himself at it, only to be forced backward by another invisible hand.
“Dean.”
Dean’s body twitched, pulled forward despite the hold the demon had on him. His eyes met Sam’s. The black was gone from them, only plain green painted with pain and fear. The demon turned back to Sam, leaving Dean hanging a full foot off the ground. “You, of all people should have expected this, Sam. You were never meant to live beyond tonight. You are only a means to and end.” He made several deep cuts on Sam’s arms and legs, over the holes that would let the blood seep down into the vat where Cassie’s blood was already cooling.
“You promised me-“
The demon’s smile was cold as he leaned down to kiss Sam obscenely. “Yes, well…surprise, surprise…I lied. I’m a demon Sam. What did you expect? I’ve kept your powers suppressed, held you in check when your ‘better’ nature might have sent you off in search of something purer…I’ve fed you ever piece of information you have about yourself…all to get us here…so that you’re blood could help me return to the world.”
It squatted beside the table, his finger swirling in the gathering blood. “That’s good enough. Bring the child.”
Dean stiffened, fighting against the hold. Beside him his father was bleeding as well, pushing against the hand that held him. A woman stepped into the circle, a squirming bundle in her arms. Dean started, fighting harder now as Dana was handed off to the demon, the white blanket falling away. It held her over the vat, her soft skin the color of coffee with cream, her hair dark like her mother’s.
“Put her down, fucker. I swear, you are so dead.”
“Dean. Come to me.” Sam’s voice was weak, and Dean spared him a glance. His face was pale with blood loss. The compulsion was still strong though and Dean nodded at him to keep it up. “Now Dean. Come to me. Save me.”
Dean can feel himself moving closer, but so slowly. The demon is chanting in Latin, his hand pouring blood over Dana’s head. “Fuck. Sam, more!”
Sam pulled his head up and locks his eyes on Dean’s. “Free yourself and get over here now!”
Dean’s body shook even as the demon looked up, holding Dana aloft in front of him, letting the baptismal blood flow down over her tiny body. Dean’s hands came free first, reaching behind him for the gun. His feet hit the ground and he stumbled forward, his left arm closing around his daughter’s tiny body for the first time, his right jamming the colt up into the ribcage of the body the demon was possessing.
The first shot brought them both a few inches off the ground, then Dean was stumbling backward, tucking Dana into his body as he raised the gun to eye level, tracking the falling body to plug two more into its forehead.
The smell of sulfur exploded around them. Dean fell to his knees, folding over the crying infant, covering her face as all around them demons shrieked and Sam screamed, and it died….slowly, twitching as it melted away.
He can hear shots being fired, can feel his father moving around them, taking out anything that didn’t flee…but all Dean can care about at the moment is the baby in his arms, wiping the blood from her face, smiling down as her crying stopped. When his father’s hand touched him, he looked up with tears in his eyes. Then he spotted Sam. “Dad…I don’t even know where to start.” He stood and slowly handed the baby into John’s hands. “Hell, sure I do. This is Dana. Your granddaughter.”
With John starring at him, Dean moved to Sam’s side. “Sam? Sam…can you hear me?”
“Promised me.”
Dean smiled. “Yes I did. Let’s get you out of here.” Dean pulled the pins out of the shackles and took a minute to assess the wounds. “You’ve lost a lot of blood, but it’s nothing we can’t fix.” Dean pulled off his shirt, tearing it into strips to tie over the still bleeding wounds.
“We’re bringing him?” John asked and Dean looked up at him.
He nodded slowly. “I…have to.”
John nodded. “He’s going to need a hospital.”
“You got her?”
“Yeah. You got him?”
Dean nodded. “We need to go.” John headed for the nearest exit and Dean helped Sam to his feet, letting him lean most of his weight on Dean’s shoulder. “I got you, baby. Everything else…we’ll figure it out.” They stumbled along behind John, but Dean’s cock was aching with so much of Sam touching him. He paused them, adjusting his grip on Sam’s arm. “Just one thing…can I fucking come now?”
Sam smiled weakly and rested his head on Dean’s. “Yeah baby…come for me.”
Dean shuddered and shook and fought against yelling out. It ran hot and thick down his leg and he only hoped he could pass it off as something else if his father noticed.
Title: My Brother's Keeper, Part Nine( Part One Here, Part Two Here, Part Three Here, Part Four Here, Part Five Here, Part Six Here, Part Seven Here, Part Eight Here)
Characters/Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC-17
Table: #1
Prompt: 076 Baby
Word Count: 2758
Summary: Complete AU. On the night the demon kills Mary Winchester, John saves Dean, but before he can go back for Sam, the fire spreads. It is assumed that Sam is dead along with his mother. In reality, he has been taken and is raised by a family dedicate to the demon who killed Mary. One night after a hunt, Dean runs into him in a bar in Palo Alto, never a clue who he really is.
Warnings: Incest, m/m sex, blood play, bondage, non-con. Evil-ness abounds--Babies and demons and blood and come...This one is completely un-beta'd folks...I haven't even re-read it this time...so...yeah...any glaring mistakes? Point them my way, okay?
This is my twenty-eighth ficlet for my Supernatural claim on 100_situations. Clicky for table
Dean shivered. No. He hadn’t heard her right. It was impossible. He tried to do the math in his head, but kept getting stuck on the words….Our daughter, Dean..
He held her at arms length and shook his head. “What? Cassie….I…what?”
She smiled tentatively. “She’s six months old, today.”
“Six months…fuck.”
“What?” She wiped her eyes with shaky hands. “What Dean?”
“That’s when it came for Sam. When it killed Mom.” Dean paced away and peered out the window. “Do you know where they took her?”
“No. The just…she was crying…she was crying and they wouldn’t let me hold her.”
Dean gathered her in his arms and tried to calm the rapid pounding in his heart. This couldn’t fucking be happening. “Okay…Cassie, I need you to calm down. We’re going to find her. I swear we’ll find her and it will be okay, but you need to calm down.”
As she pulled herself together, Dean tried to figure out just what kind of crazy game this fucking demon was playing at. It wasn’t generally into the whole worship thing that a sacrifice seemed to indicate. It killed…or that’s what they had always assumed. It killed mothers and infants on the night the infant was 6 months old. Sometimes it was thwarted, and the child lived.
Of course, now he had to reconsider that. If Sam had been taken, not killed…and now it seemed Cassie’s daughter…his daughter…was to suffer the same fate, though…Cassie was here, alive, not burned on some ceiling somewhere. Dean shook his head. He had to find his father…had to….Voices, headed toward them. Dean moved them closer to the door so he could see. Two robed figures were coming their way.
“Okay, Cassie. I need your help. Go stand in the middle of the room. Someone’s coming. They need to see that you’re here…and not see me.”
Dean flattened against the wall by the door. The door opened and Dean tensed. The first robed figure moved into the room, reaching for Cassie. Dean waited until he could see the second one in the doorway and pushed the door, hitting the second one and pushing the first. He hooked a foot under the first, and dropped him to the floor, whirling around to follow with a solid punch. He jumped for the second who was struggling to get up, yanked him into the room and punched him too.
“Come on.” He grabbed Cassie’s hand and all but dragged her out of the room, moving them into the cross hallway and praying he figured out what was going on before things got any uglier.
They crouched in the shadows on a catwalk above the ritual circle, Dean and Cassie, while Dean surveyed the scene below. The space was set up for serious ritual, and nearly complete at that. Dean could see the man he had known as Sam’s father, his robe lined with red. He was chanting at the altar, waving incense. They were too far away to make out what he was saying. Behind him, there was a table, under which the black tubs were waiting for the bleed out.
“You stay here. No matter what. I’ll come back for you.”
“You can’t leave me.”
Dean inhaled sharply. “I can’t….I have to. If I’m going to save Dana, I have to. You’ll be safe here. As long as you’re quiet.” There were more of them gathering below them, a circle forming. The chanting changed tenor and pitch. This was it. Dean leaned over the edge of the catwalk, looking for a sign of his father or Sam.
What he saw wasn’t the sign he was looking for. “Damn.”
He fished a gun out of the bag and pressed it into her hands. “Its got a full magazine. The rounds are blessed. It should cut down anything that comes at you. Don’t be afraid to use it.” He paused, then kissed her forehead.
His gut clenched as he spotted Sam being dragged away from where his father was held by two of the larger figures. The shotgun lay on the floor a few feet away. His father’s face was bloody. Sam was putting up a pretty good fight. Dean felt himself flush with arousal and shook his head. Fucking black magic. Fucking hexes. Sam was going to be the death of him yet.
John wasn’t sure how much was show, and how much was real, but he could feel fear rolling off of Sam as he was dragged away. His gut hurt from the sucker punch, and his nose was still bleeding. The demon wasn’t there yet though, he could tell. All around them they were forming a circle, and Sam was getting his clothes ripped from his body in preparation for getting laid on the table.
He knew Dean was nearby. He hoped he was following orders and not showing his hand before the thing that killed Mary showed its ugly face. The man at the altar turned toward them as Sam was finally naked, naked and hyperventilating through clenched teeth. “What the fuck is this?”
“Shut up Sam.”
The circle took up the chant, soft and low at first, but building. Sam fought against the hands now manhandling him toward the table. “I did my part. You can’t-“
“I said shut up, Sam.”
The man’s hand came up and Sam froze, rising out of his captors’ hands, his entire body rigid. John pulled against the hands that held him, trying to get closer, but a moment later he didn’t need to. The hood on his head fell back and his eyes glowed eerily. John took a deep breath and smiled to himself. This time it was real. Now all he needed to do was get his hands on the damn thing.
Those eyes flicked his way and John’s smile faded. “At last, the great John Winchester. I’ve waited a long time to watch you die.”
John didn’t rise to the bait, and managed to turn his eyes away, to Sam who was being strapped to the table. A robed figure handed the Demon his knife, and he pulled it from it’s sheath slowly, admiring the handiwork. “This is very nice, John. Who made it for you?”
John smiled at that, his eyes coming back to the demon’s. “Like I would tell you.”
It was in front of him now, and almost casually drew the tip of the blade over his cheek, drawing a line of fire and blood. “You will, so that I can return it to them, with gratitude.”
“You aren’t leaving this warehouse alive.”
It laughed and turned away. “On the contrary, John. Tonight is a very special night. Tonight is the night I am reborn. Tonight is the night I am made flesh.”
It paced away over to Sam, playing with the blade. “Call him.”
Sam shook his head and it drew a line down his leg with the blade. “Call him and maybe I’ll let him take your place.”
Sam shivered, pulling against the iron that held him to the table. “Dean. Come for me.” His voice sounded small in the big space, lost under the chanting.
“Louder. I don’t think he heard you.”
“Dean! Come for me!” Sam yelled, turning his face away from John’s, away from the demon. “Fuck you.”
Dean felt it, a sudden pull forward, even before he heard the words rise up over the chanting. “Fuck.” He grabbed a pillar and held on until he had a little power over it. He’d seen the whole floating Sam trick, and the look of fear on Sam’s face told him that he hadn’t been expecting it.
Turning his back to the pillar, Dean pulled out the knife, tucking it into his belt. The special gun he checked, then tucked into the back of his pants, pulling his shirt down to cover it. He was breathing heavy with exertion as he stepped free of the pillar and let the compulsion draw him.
“Call him again.”
Dean heard Sam whimper, and imagined he was probably getting cut again. “Let me up and maybe I will.” Dean thought he sounded angry, and more than a little scared.
There was screaming then and Sam’s voice cut through to him. “Dean! Now!”
Dean drew his knife as he neared the circle of robed figures. He had no choice but to obey, but he was going to do it on his own terms. Two of them went down at the same time, blood gushing out of slashed throats and Dean stepped through and over them. “I’m here, Sam.” He said it softly, but it fell into the sudden silence of the room like a rock.
Two of them came at him, and both fell, cut nearly in half. “Want to keep dying, keep coming.”
“There you are. I do hope my son wasn’t too hard on you. He can be quite cruel.” He stood over Sam, the knife point playing over his chest.
Dean stopped a few paces behind his father. “He isn’t your son. And yes, he can be quite cruel.”
“Save me, Dean. You promised.”
Dean took a few stumbling steps forward before he found his control again. “Don’t worry Sammy, not a single Winchester is dying today.”
“No?” Yellow eyes met Dean’s green ones, then both sets of eyes tracked to the knife as it cut deeper. “Tell me Dean…do you know what you get when you mix Mother’s blood with a Seer’s blood and then baptize a Seer in both?”
Cassie’s scream echoed through the room as her body flew through the air toward them, her stomach already torn and bleeding as she halted over one of the black vats. “Son of a bitch!” Dean threw his knife, and it slammed into its stomach. It stumbled backward and Cassie fell, but Dean knew from the sickening crash that she was already dead, her blood soaking her white dress, even as it spilled onto the cement floor. The gun clattered from her hand, skating across the floor until it stopped a few feet in front of Dean.
Slowly the demon wrapped a hand around the handle of the knife and pulled it from its borrowed body. “Is that the best you have, Dean?”
“Careful, Dean.” John’s voice rumbled low. “It’s trying to provoke you.”
“Yeah, well, it’s doing a fucking good job.”
“Dean, help me.”
Sam’s voice was like a hand stroking his cock and Dean’s knees trembled. “I’m helping Sam. Just let me work.”
“You’re unarmed now, Dean. What can you hope to accomplish? It is a beautiful blade. To bad you didn’t make very good use of it.” Several of the circle members were moving Cassie’s body, saving what of her blood wasn’t already puddling on the floor.
Two more came at Dean again. He rolled away, swinging an arm out and around the neck of the first, snapping it before he hit the ground, skidding until his hand closed on the gun, then turning and shooting two rounds into the head of the other. His next two shots were for the two holding his father, then he climbed back to his feet and held the gun out at the demon.
“That won’t kill me, Dean.”
“No, but I’d bet it stings like hell.” He squeezed off three rounds, two of which struck home, making it step back from Sam.
“Enough.” Dean felt his throat close up as if a hand was closing around him. The demon came closer and John launched himself at it, only to be forced backward by another invisible hand.
“Dean.”
Dean’s body twitched, pulled forward despite the hold the demon had on him. His eyes met Sam’s. The black was gone from them, only plain green painted with pain and fear. The demon turned back to Sam, leaving Dean hanging a full foot off the ground. “You, of all people should have expected this, Sam. You were never meant to live beyond tonight. You are only a means to and end.” He made several deep cuts on Sam’s arms and legs, over the holes that would let the blood seep down into the vat where Cassie’s blood was already cooling.
“You promised me-“
The demon’s smile was cold as he leaned down to kiss Sam obscenely. “Yes, well…surprise, surprise…I lied. I’m a demon Sam. What did you expect? I’ve kept your powers suppressed, held you in check when your ‘better’ nature might have sent you off in search of something purer…I’ve fed you ever piece of information you have about yourself…all to get us here…so that you’re blood could help me return to the world.”
It squatted beside the table, his finger swirling in the gathering blood. “That’s good enough. Bring the child.”
Dean stiffened, fighting against the hold. Beside him his father was bleeding as well, pushing against the hand that held him. A woman stepped into the circle, a squirming bundle in her arms. Dean started, fighting harder now as Dana was handed off to the demon, the white blanket falling away. It held her over the vat, her soft skin the color of coffee with cream, her hair dark like her mother’s.
“Put her down, fucker. I swear, you are so dead.”
“Dean. Come to me.” Sam’s voice was weak, and Dean spared him a glance. His face was pale with blood loss. The compulsion was still strong though and Dean nodded at him to keep it up. “Now Dean. Come to me. Save me.”
Dean can feel himself moving closer, but so slowly. The demon is chanting in Latin, his hand pouring blood over Dana’s head. “Fuck. Sam, more!”
Sam pulled his head up and locks his eyes on Dean’s. “Free yourself and get over here now!”
Dean’s body shook even as the demon looked up, holding Dana aloft in front of him, letting the baptismal blood flow down over her tiny body. Dean’s hands came free first, reaching behind him for the gun. His feet hit the ground and he stumbled forward, his left arm closing around his daughter’s tiny body for the first time, his right jamming the colt up into the ribcage of the body the demon was possessing.
The first shot brought them both a few inches off the ground, then Dean was stumbling backward, tucking Dana into his body as he raised the gun to eye level, tracking the falling body to plug two more into its forehead.
The smell of sulfur exploded around them. Dean fell to his knees, folding over the crying infant, covering her face as all around them demons shrieked and Sam screamed, and it died….slowly, twitching as it melted away.
He can hear shots being fired, can feel his father moving around them, taking out anything that didn’t flee…but all Dean can care about at the moment is the baby in his arms, wiping the blood from her face, smiling down as her crying stopped. When his father’s hand touched him, he looked up with tears in his eyes. Then he spotted Sam. “Dad…I don’t even know where to start.” He stood and slowly handed the baby into John’s hands. “Hell, sure I do. This is Dana. Your granddaughter.”
With John starring at him, Dean moved to Sam’s side. “Sam? Sam…can you hear me?”
“Promised me.”
Dean smiled. “Yes I did. Let’s get you out of here.” Dean pulled the pins out of the shackles and took a minute to assess the wounds. “You’ve lost a lot of blood, but it’s nothing we can’t fix.” Dean pulled off his shirt, tearing it into strips to tie over the still bleeding wounds.
“We’re bringing him?” John asked and Dean looked up at him.
He nodded slowly. “I…have to.”
John nodded. “He’s going to need a hospital.”
“You got her?”
“Yeah. You got him?”
Dean nodded. “We need to go.” John headed for the nearest exit and Dean helped Sam to his feet, letting him lean most of his weight on Dean’s shoulder. “I got you, baby. Everything else…we’ll figure it out.” They stumbled along behind John, but Dean’s cock was aching with so much of Sam touching him. He paused them, adjusting his grip on Sam’s arm. “Just one thing…can I fucking come now?”
Sam smiled weakly and rested his head on Dean’s. “Yeah baby…come for me.”
Dean shuddered and shook and fought against yelling out. It ran hot and thick down his leg and he only hoped he could pass it off as something else if his father noticed.