My Brother's Keeper, Part 17 - Supernatural, NC-17
Fandom: Supernatural
Title: My Brother's Keeper, Part Seventeen( Part One Here, Part Two Here, Part Three Here, Part Four Here, Part Five Here, Part Six Here, Part Seven Here, Part Eight Here, Part Nine Here, Part Ten Here, Part Eleven Here, Part Twelve Here, Part Thirteen Here, Part Fourteen Here, Part Fifteen Here, Part Sixteen Here)
Characters/Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC-17
Table: #1
Prompt: 070 Alone
Word Count: 2378
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: Overall-Incest, m/m sex, blood play, bondage, non-con, including memories of under-age rape. Middle of the night sex, Compulsion, meltdown, baby cuteness....
This is my thirty-sixth ficlet for my Supernatural claim on 100_situations. Clicky for table
“Fuck.”
Dean looked up at his father, the exclamation something unaccustomed in such a quiet moment. “Dad?”
John shook his head and ran a hand over his face. He looked up at Dean and with an expression that made Dean uneasy. He set down the knife he was sharpening and waited.
“I was doing some research. Something Sam said.”
Dean waited. There had to be more.
John’s mouth was a thin line. “He told me about those demons they used to punish him. I’d never heard of them. Now I wish I never had.”
“What are they?”
John sighed and sank back on the couch, away from the computer. “He called them Harriers, named after the man who…created them. They’re hybrids. They’re also known as submission demons and punishers.”
John’s eyes closed and he tried to put the images of Sam’s scarred skin out of his mind. “They were bred to…serve a higher order demon, and are given to servants of demons to keep their…people in line.”
“What do they do?”
John sighed, looking at his son through dark lashes. “Punish. Their sole purpose is to punish the disobedient. They can read minds, use the person’s fears against them, and physically assault them.”
“Sounds bad.”
“The only way to stop them once they’ve started is by submitting.” John could imagine what 20 of them could do to a 16 year old boy, who’s entire existence is about resistance. It must have broken Sam in so many ways to stop fighting and take the punishment.
“He asked you to sedate him?” Dean asked, for maybe the third time since John had come back downstairs.
John nodded. “Yes. He was worried he might hurt someone.”
Dean shook his head. “I should go check on him.”
“Dean, I told you. He doesn’t want you to see him just yet.”
Dean sighed explosively. “Why? What happened?
“Its after midnight. Get some sleep. We’ll talk in the morning.”
“Yeah, all right.” Dean got up, sheathing his knife and tucking it back into his boot. He bent over Dana’s playpen and pressed a kiss to his fingers, then to her forehead. “Night.”
At the top of the stairs, Dean stopped, staring at Sam’s door. After a long minute, he turned away from it and let himself into his room, shedding clothes as he went. By the time he reached the bed, he wore only his boxers and he slid into the fresh sheets. Sam had been so angry, yet had talked to his father. A part of Dean wondered what he’d done, despite his father’s reassurances. A part of him was jealous. Of his father.
Punching his pillow, Dean closed his eyes and forced his mind onto other things, willing away the need to cross the hall and climb into Sam’s bed to hold him. As angry as Sam had been, that would probably lead to getting hit.
Sam hovered outside Dean’s door, his body sweating, his hand hovering over the door knob. Fevered dreams of demons with glowing eyes and blood pouring out of him had chased him out of sleep and into the dark , craving.
He opened the bedroom door and closed it behind him. Dean was asleep with the blankets cast loosely aside, his naked torso splayed out over the bed. Sam licked his lips and pulled off his underwear, his cock already hard and wanting. He moved quietly, across the floor to stand beside the small bed. His hand ghosted over Dean’s skin.
Leaning forward, Sam whispered into Dean’s ear. “Keep your eyes closed.”
Dean stirred, stretching. “Sam?”
“Shh. Keep your eyes closed.” Dean nodded and Sam climbed up onto the bed, his hands roaming up Dean’s stomach and chest, up to his arms. He maneuvered his hands up to the wrought iron head board, wrapping his fingers around the middle posts. “Don’t let go.” Sam whispered. Dean nodded again, sleepily.
Sam kissed him then, forcing his tongue into Dean’s mouth. Slowly, Dean responded, as if he was still asleep. Sam’s hands find a nipple and squeezed and Dean moaned into Sam’s mouth. “There you are.” Sam whispered, his kisses moving now, sliding over Dean’s chin. The scrape of teeth over Dean’s throat brought a hiss and Sam licked over the spot before biting a second time.
“Sam. What…”
Sam covered Dean’s mouth with a hand and whispered, “Want you, Dean. Want to fuck you.”
Sam felt Dean’s cock harden at his words and smiled. He bit down on the spot again and Dean moved under him. “Sam. God.”
Mouth over nipples, tongue, teeth, lips sucking and Sam’s hands ventured south to pull at Dean’s boxers. Dean lifted just enough to help Sam pull them off, then Sam’s hands rubbed over his thighs, blunt nails scraping over skin as he pushed them apart. Without warning, he stuck one finger inside Dean, making him gasp and arch up.
Sam’s mouth moved down, his tongue circling Dean’s navel, then moving into it, fucking it while his finger fucked Dean’s ass. Dean’s moved, spreading his legs a little further and moving his hips in time with Sam’s finger. “More.” Dean whispered.
Sam grinned against his skin, his tongue soothing over hard muscle and bone as he added a second finger, pressing in and circling around, slowly working Dean open. Sam timed his next stroke with a long lick up Dean’s cock and Dean shivered. “Like that?” Sam asked in a whisper and Dean groaned.
Sam kissed his way up to his mouth, claiming it with teeth and tongue as Dean writhed under him. “Jesus Sam…do it.”
Sam groaned and positioned himself…then reached up to grab Dean’s hands where they held the head board before thrusting in violently. The bed creaked and Dean rocked his hips, tilting them so that Sam slid straight into him in a single stroke. Sam’s hands were hard, white knuckled around Dean’s , but Dean didn’t seem to mind.
Sam held himself inside of his brother, looking down at his face…eyes close, mouth open and gasping. “Want to keep you right here forever.” Sam whispered as he started moving, pulling out slowly before slamming back in. “Forever Dean. Mine.”
Dean’s cock was trapped between their bodies, rubbing between bellies and Sam felt him twitch. Sam flushed with heat as Dean opened even more, tilting his head, exposing the tender place under his ear. Sam licked and nibbled and Dean whimpered, and that was nearly all Sam could handle. “I’m going to come in your ass baby. Come with me.”
When Sam was spent, and sticky, he pulled back, pulled out. Dean lay still, only his chest moving as he panted. “So pretty.” Sam whispered. His right shoulder ached from the exertion and movement and he cradled the arm to him. “Sam?”
“Shh…just…keep your eyes closed Dean.”
“I want to see you.”
“No.” Sam’s voice cracked and he shook his head. “Not now. Go to sleep.”
He got up off the bed, his legs shaking and stumbled for his boxers, trusting the compulsion would keep Dean from opening his eyes, from seeing. Sam stopped and turned back to the bed. “Dean…When you look at me, you will see me the way I was when you first met me. Do you understand?”
“Sam? What?”
“Answer me.”
“Yes, I understand.”
Sam nodded, returning to sit on the side of the bed. “Open your eyes.” Dean did, slowly, blinking a few times before his gaze came to rest on Sam, who was watching him closely for any signs that he could see the scars, see him as something less than whole.
Dean’s hand moved to caress Sam’s thigh. “What was that about?” Dean asked, sitting up slowly.
Sam shook his head with a passing frown. “Nothing.”
“You trying to hide something from me?”
“No, Dean. I-No.”
Deans eyes narrowed and Sam’s heart skipped a beat, thinking he could see past the illusion, that the compulsion wasn’t enough. “What happened tonight?”
“I-I ran into…let’s just say that the old man wasn’t the only demon host in the family. She…spooked me.” Sam closed his eyes when Dean’s finger’s caressed his cheek. “Did your father-our-did he tell you?”
Dean shook his head. “Not much. Said you would when you were ready.” Dean’s kiss was soft, his full lips tender on Sam’s. “You want to stay?”
“You should sleep.” Sam kissed the hand that Dean was stroking over his face and rose. “I have some things to think about.”
Sam paused at the door and looked back. Dean was nearly asleep already. Sam nodded and closed the door. He didn’t let himself think about it, about lying to him again. You’re using him.
“Shut up.” Sam whispered, though it was only a voice from a dream.
When he realizes it he’ll leave you.
“Get out of my head, bitch,” he whispered fervently, letting himself back into his room.
You’ll be all alone. Again.
No. Sam shook his head and paced the room. No. He wasn’t alone anymore. The closet couldn’t hold him. The Harriers would have their hands full if they tried. No. He wasn’t the scared, lonely kid who gave in, who fell and fell and fell. He cradled his arm and fought against tears he didn’t want to shed.
They don’t love you. He only keeps you because you make him.
Sam doubled over, folding in on himself as he yelled out his fear and frustration and pain. All around him the room erupted into chaos, the windows imploded, the dresser flew into the wall and the bed lifted off the ground. As his knees hit the ground, his vision swam, memory and images of things to come, places he’d been and ones he’d never heard of crashed around him and he grabbed at his head.
He could taste blood, feel the wind rushing around him. Light and dark and faces of the living and the dead circled him and he never heard the door crash open, never heard Dana’s screaming. A giant hand slammed across his jaw and his eyes fluttered open, briefly glimpsing John and Dean before he fell headlong into the dark.
“What was that?” Dean asked, bouncing Dana as she continued to cry nearly twenty minutes later.
“Meltdown.” Missouri murmured, adjusting the ice pack held to her head. “I told you it would be ugly.”
John handed her a glass with whiskey. “You okay?”
She nodded. “What about her?” he asked Dean.
Dean shifted Dana so he could see her face. Her eyes and face were red and her breathing was still jumpy, but she’d stopped whimpering. “I think she’s okay.” He wiped her cheeks with one hand. “Did he hurt you baby?”
She leaned forward, pressing her open mouth over his chin. He took a deep breath and looked to Missouri. “Any insight here?”
“She’ll be okay. Those things are frightening to me, and I’m a grown woman.”
“She saw…whatever it was he was seeing?”
Missouri nodded, sipping on her whiskey and making a face as it burned down her throat. “I hate to be one to suggest, but maybe its time you take her away.”
“Where?”
“Someplace far away from him”
“Sam wouldn’t hurt her.” Dean said. He rearranged Dana and moved to the couch to sit. He jumped when her dog toy, that had been lying on the coffee table was suddenly eye level. “Floating rattle trick?” He snatched it out of the air and gave it to Dana who instantly shoved its plastic face into her mouth.
John crossed his arms. “Maybe he would. Hurt her, I mean.”
Dean looked up sharply. “What?”
“He’s hiding something Dean. He wouldn’t tell me what that Demon wanted from him. What if what she wants is Dana?”
Dana threw the dog to the floor and giggled. Dean reached for it, but before his hand closed on it, it rose and the wet face slapped against his cheek. He made a face and grabbed it. “Stop that.”
Dana giggled, reaching for the dog again. Dean gave it to her and sighed. Dana sighed in echo and he pulled back to look at her. She smiled and waved her arms wildly, sending the dog flying again. “Now what are you gonna do?” Dean asked.
She clapped her hands and said, “Nanananananananananana,” with glee.
Dean chuckled and looked back up at his father. “I-I can’t leave him, and I can’t let her go without me.”
“We could try sedating him again.” John offered.
“We don’t have anymore. We’d have to steal it.”
“Dean.” Missouri sat up suddenly, her eyes slightly unfocused.
“What did I do now?” Dean mouthed to his father who only shrugged.
“You. It wants you.”
“Me?” Dean shifted Dana to his other leg.
“He’s a little fuzzy on the details.”
“Sam?”
“Dreaming.” Missouri held up a hand. “She wants you, wants Sam to bring you home.”
Dean paled and looked up at his father. Sam had gone back to the place where they had all started, where Dean and his father had been left alone. “Why?”
“Not sure. Oh!” Her eyes closed and she sagged back into her chair. “There is some serious evil in that house.”
“Well, that I know how to deal with.” Dean said.
“Dean, it’s the middle of the night. You aren’t going over there.”
Dean stood up and put Dana in her playpen. “You going to stop me, Dad? That thing is in our house.”
“It isn’t your house anymore, baby.” Missouri said from her chair.
Dean’s jaw clenched and unclenched. When he showed no signs of backing down, John pulled himself up. “What did you have in mind?”
Dean nodded and looked around him. “Let’s go find out what’s in there and figure out how to kill it.”
“Simple recon.” John says, his eyes searching Dean’s. Dean nods again, tightly. “Okay. Missouri, would you keep an eye on Dana? Sam should be out for a while, I really hit him.”
Missouri roused herself and came to lay a hand on each of their arms. “You two be careful. Remember this baby girl needs you…and so does the scared little boy upstairs.”
“I’ll drive.” Dean says around clenched teeth. This, at least, is something he understands, something he can fight.
Title: My Brother's Keeper, Part Seventeen( Part One Here, Part Two Here, Part Three Here, Part Four Here, Part Five Here, Part Six Here, Part Seven Here, Part Eight Here, Part Nine Here, Part Ten Here, Part Eleven Here, Part Twelve Here, Part Thirteen Here, Part Fourteen Here, Part Fifteen Here, Part Sixteen Here)
Characters/Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC-17
Table: #1
Prompt: 070 Alone
Word Count: 2378
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: Overall-Incest, m/m sex, blood play, bondage, non-con, including memories of under-age rape. Middle of the night sex, Compulsion, meltdown, baby cuteness....
This is my thirty-sixth ficlet for my Supernatural claim on 100_situations. Clicky for table
“Fuck.”
Dean looked up at his father, the exclamation something unaccustomed in such a quiet moment. “Dad?”
John shook his head and ran a hand over his face. He looked up at Dean and with an expression that made Dean uneasy. He set down the knife he was sharpening and waited.
“I was doing some research. Something Sam said.”
Dean waited. There had to be more.
John’s mouth was a thin line. “He told me about those demons they used to punish him. I’d never heard of them. Now I wish I never had.”
“What are they?”
John sighed and sank back on the couch, away from the computer. “He called them Harriers, named after the man who…created them. They’re hybrids. They’re also known as submission demons and punishers.”
John’s eyes closed and he tried to put the images of Sam’s scarred skin out of his mind. “They were bred to…serve a higher order demon, and are given to servants of demons to keep their…people in line.”
“What do they do?”
John sighed, looking at his son through dark lashes. “Punish. Their sole purpose is to punish the disobedient. They can read minds, use the person’s fears against them, and physically assault them.”
“Sounds bad.”
“The only way to stop them once they’ve started is by submitting.” John could imagine what 20 of them could do to a 16 year old boy, who’s entire existence is about resistance. It must have broken Sam in so many ways to stop fighting and take the punishment.
“He asked you to sedate him?” Dean asked, for maybe the third time since John had come back downstairs.
John nodded. “Yes. He was worried he might hurt someone.”
Dean shook his head. “I should go check on him.”
“Dean, I told you. He doesn’t want you to see him just yet.”
Dean sighed explosively. “Why? What happened?
“Its after midnight. Get some sleep. We’ll talk in the morning.”
“Yeah, all right.” Dean got up, sheathing his knife and tucking it back into his boot. He bent over Dana’s playpen and pressed a kiss to his fingers, then to her forehead. “Night.”
At the top of the stairs, Dean stopped, staring at Sam’s door. After a long minute, he turned away from it and let himself into his room, shedding clothes as he went. By the time he reached the bed, he wore only his boxers and he slid into the fresh sheets. Sam had been so angry, yet had talked to his father. A part of Dean wondered what he’d done, despite his father’s reassurances. A part of him was jealous. Of his father.
Punching his pillow, Dean closed his eyes and forced his mind onto other things, willing away the need to cross the hall and climb into Sam’s bed to hold him. As angry as Sam had been, that would probably lead to getting hit.
Sam hovered outside Dean’s door, his body sweating, his hand hovering over the door knob. Fevered dreams of demons with glowing eyes and blood pouring out of him had chased him out of sleep and into the dark , craving.
He opened the bedroom door and closed it behind him. Dean was asleep with the blankets cast loosely aside, his naked torso splayed out over the bed. Sam licked his lips and pulled off his underwear, his cock already hard and wanting. He moved quietly, across the floor to stand beside the small bed. His hand ghosted over Dean’s skin.
Leaning forward, Sam whispered into Dean’s ear. “Keep your eyes closed.”
Dean stirred, stretching. “Sam?”
“Shh. Keep your eyes closed.” Dean nodded and Sam climbed up onto the bed, his hands roaming up Dean’s stomach and chest, up to his arms. He maneuvered his hands up to the wrought iron head board, wrapping his fingers around the middle posts. “Don’t let go.” Sam whispered. Dean nodded again, sleepily.
Sam kissed him then, forcing his tongue into Dean’s mouth. Slowly, Dean responded, as if he was still asleep. Sam’s hands find a nipple and squeezed and Dean moaned into Sam’s mouth. “There you are.” Sam whispered, his kisses moving now, sliding over Dean’s chin. The scrape of teeth over Dean’s throat brought a hiss and Sam licked over the spot before biting a second time.
“Sam. What…”
Sam covered Dean’s mouth with a hand and whispered, “Want you, Dean. Want to fuck you.”
Sam felt Dean’s cock harden at his words and smiled. He bit down on the spot again and Dean moved under him. “Sam. God.”
Mouth over nipples, tongue, teeth, lips sucking and Sam’s hands ventured south to pull at Dean’s boxers. Dean lifted just enough to help Sam pull them off, then Sam’s hands rubbed over his thighs, blunt nails scraping over skin as he pushed them apart. Without warning, he stuck one finger inside Dean, making him gasp and arch up.
Sam’s mouth moved down, his tongue circling Dean’s navel, then moving into it, fucking it while his finger fucked Dean’s ass. Dean’s moved, spreading his legs a little further and moving his hips in time with Sam’s finger. “More.” Dean whispered.
Sam grinned against his skin, his tongue soothing over hard muscle and bone as he added a second finger, pressing in and circling around, slowly working Dean open. Sam timed his next stroke with a long lick up Dean’s cock and Dean shivered. “Like that?” Sam asked in a whisper and Dean groaned.
Sam kissed his way up to his mouth, claiming it with teeth and tongue as Dean writhed under him. “Jesus Sam…do it.”
Sam groaned and positioned himself…then reached up to grab Dean’s hands where they held the head board before thrusting in violently. The bed creaked and Dean rocked his hips, tilting them so that Sam slid straight into him in a single stroke. Sam’s hands were hard, white knuckled around Dean’s , but Dean didn’t seem to mind.
Sam held himself inside of his brother, looking down at his face…eyes close, mouth open and gasping. “Want to keep you right here forever.” Sam whispered as he started moving, pulling out slowly before slamming back in. “Forever Dean. Mine.”
Dean’s cock was trapped between their bodies, rubbing between bellies and Sam felt him twitch. Sam flushed with heat as Dean opened even more, tilting his head, exposing the tender place under his ear. Sam licked and nibbled and Dean whimpered, and that was nearly all Sam could handle. “I’m going to come in your ass baby. Come with me.”
When Sam was spent, and sticky, he pulled back, pulled out. Dean lay still, only his chest moving as he panted. “So pretty.” Sam whispered. His right shoulder ached from the exertion and movement and he cradled the arm to him. “Sam?”
“Shh…just…keep your eyes closed Dean.”
“I want to see you.”
“No.” Sam’s voice cracked and he shook his head. “Not now. Go to sleep.”
He got up off the bed, his legs shaking and stumbled for his boxers, trusting the compulsion would keep Dean from opening his eyes, from seeing. Sam stopped and turned back to the bed. “Dean…When you look at me, you will see me the way I was when you first met me. Do you understand?”
“Sam? What?”
“Answer me.”
“Yes, I understand.”
Sam nodded, returning to sit on the side of the bed. “Open your eyes.” Dean did, slowly, blinking a few times before his gaze came to rest on Sam, who was watching him closely for any signs that he could see the scars, see him as something less than whole.
Dean’s hand moved to caress Sam’s thigh. “What was that about?” Dean asked, sitting up slowly.
Sam shook his head with a passing frown. “Nothing.”
“You trying to hide something from me?”
“No, Dean. I-No.”
Deans eyes narrowed and Sam’s heart skipped a beat, thinking he could see past the illusion, that the compulsion wasn’t enough. “What happened tonight?”
“I-I ran into…let’s just say that the old man wasn’t the only demon host in the family. She…spooked me.” Sam closed his eyes when Dean’s finger’s caressed his cheek. “Did your father-our-did he tell you?”
Dean shook his head. “Not much. Said you would when you were ready.” Dean’s kiss was soft, his full lips tender on Sam’s. “You want to stay?”
“You should sleep.” Sam kissed the hand that Dean was stroking over his face and rose. “I have some things to think about.”
Sam paused at the door and looked back. Dean was nearly asleep already. Sam nodded and closed the door. He didn’t let himself think about it, about lying to him again. You’re using him.
“Shut up.” Sam whispered, though it was only a voice from a dream.
When he realizes it he’ll leave you.
“Get out of my head, bitch,” he whispered fervently, letting himself back into his room.
You’ll be all alone. Again.
No. Sam shook his head and paced the room. No. He wasn’t alone anymore. The closet couldn’t hold him. The Harriers would have their hands full if they tried. No. He wasn’t the scared, lonely kid who gave in, who fell and fell and fell. He cradled his arm and fought against tears he didn’t want to shed.
They don’t love you. He only keeps you because you make him.
Sam doubled over, folding in on himself as he yelled out his fear and frustration and pain. All around him the room erupted into chaos, the windows imploded, the dresser flew into the wall and the bed lifted off the ground. As his knees hit the ground, his vision swam, memory and images of things to come, places he’d been and ones he’d never heard of crashed around him and he grabbed at his head.
He could taste blood, feel the wind rushing around him. Light and dark and faces of the living and the dead circled him and he never heard the door crash open, never heard Dana’s screaming. A giant hand slammed across his jaw and his eyes fluttered open, briefly glimpsing John and Dean before he fell headlong into the dark.
“What was that?” Dean asked, bouncing Dana as she continued to cry nearly twenty minutes later.
“Meltdown.” Missouri murmured, adjusting the ice pack held to her head. “I told you it would be ugly.”
John handed her a glass with whiskey. “You okay?”
She nodded. “What about her?” he asked Dean.
Dean shifted Dana so he could see her face. Her eyes and face were red and her breathing was still jumpy, but she’d stopped whimpering. “I think she’s okay.” He wiped her cheeks with one hand. “Did he hurt you baby?”
She leaned forward, pressing her open mouth over his chin. He took a deep breath and looked to Missouri. “Any insight here?”
“She’ll be okay. Those things are frightening to me, and I’m a grown woman.”
“She saw…whatever it was he was seeing?”
Missouri nodded, sipping on her whiskey and making a face as it burned down her throat. “I hate to be one to suggest, but maybe its time you take her away.”
“Where?”
“Someplace far away from him”
“Sam wouldn’t hurt her.” Dean said. He rearranged Dana and moved to the couch to sit. He jumped when her dog toy, that had been lying on the coffee table was suddenly eye level. “Floating rattle trick?” He snatched it out of the air and gave it to Dana who instantly shoved its plastic face into her mouth.
John crossed his arms. “Maybe he would. Hurt her, I mean.”
Dean looked up sharply. “What?”
“He’s hiding something Dean. He wouldn’t tell me what that Demon wanted from him. What if what she wants is Dana?”
Dana threw the dog to the floor and giggled. Dean reached for it, but before his hand closed on it, it rose and the wet face slapped against his cheek. He made a face and grabbed it. “Stop that.”
Dana giggled, reaching for the dog again. Dean gave it to her and sighed. Dana sighed in echo and he pulled back to look at her. She smiled and waved her arms wildly, sending the dog flying again. “Now what are you gonna do?” Dean asked.
She clapped her hands and said, “Nanananananananananana,” with glee.
Dean chuckled and looked back up at his father. “I-I can’t leave him, and I can’t let her go without me.”
“We could try sedating him again.” John offered.
“We don’t have anymore. We’d have to steal it.”
“Dean.” Missouri sat up suddenly, her eyes slightly unfocused.
“What did I do now?” Dean mouthed to his father who only shrugged.
“You. It wants you.”
“Me?” Dean shifted Dana to his other leg.
“He’s a little fuzzy on the details.”
“Sam?”
“Dreaming.” Missouri held up a hand. “She wants you, wants Sam to bring you home.”
Dean paled and looked up at his father. Sam had gone back to the place where they had all started, where Dean and his father had been left alone. “Why?”
“Not sure. Oh!” Her eyes closed and she sagged back into her chair. “There is some serious evil in that house.”
“Well, that I know how to deal with.” Dean said.
“Dean, it’s the middle of the night. You aren’t going over there.”
Dean stood up and put Dana in her playpen. “You going to stop me, Dad? That thing is in our house.”
“It isn’t your house anymore, baby.” Missouri said from her chair.
Dean’s jaw clenched and unclenched. When he showed no signs of backing down, John pulled himself up. “What did you have in mind?”
Dean nodded and looked around him. “Let’s go find out what’s in there and figure out how to kill it.”
“Simple recon.” John says, his eyes searching Dean’s. Dean nods again, tightly. “Okay. Missouri, would you keep an eye on Dana? Sam should be out for a while, I really hit him.”
Missouri roused herself and came to lay a hand on each of their arms. “You two be careful. Remember this baby girl needs you…and so does the scared little boy upstairs.”
“I’ll drive.” Dean says around clenched teeth. This, at least, is something he understands, something he can fight.