Gathering, Supernatural, NC-17
Fandom: Supernatural
Title: Gathering
Characters/Pairings: Sam/Dean, John, Caleb
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 3303
Summary: A sequel to Anything which was a Christmas request from nanakomatsu, Nothing, Something, To Be Good, Broken, To Be Strong, Nothing, No One, Alone, Yours, Mine, Better and Choice. John, Caleb and Bobby head out to the Roadhouse to rally the hunters for the coming battle, and maybe reveal a traitor in their midst...Sam and Dean share a moment and some memories.
A/Ns and Warnings: This is the part of the story where things are starting to change, and the previous warnings aren't exactly right anymore...but I'm unsure what I should say...Dark, angsty...deals with slavery and the aftermath...violence...
“You’re what?” Sam asked, louder than he intended. He glanced behind him where Dean was still eating his breakfast.
His father paced away. “You’re in no condition and someone has to stay here, take care of Dean.”
“I’m not disagreeing with that. But you’re not even considering the consequences.”
“We’re not stupid, Sam.”
“No. No. It’s dumb, it’s dangerous. You don’t know enough.” Sam could think of a hundred reasons why it was the wrong thing to do now. “Just like you, just go barging in without thinking it through. I don’t even know half these names. You trust them?” He thrust the piece of paper back at his father. The last thing they needed was a room full of hunters who didn’t trust each other…any of whom could have traded Dean for…for whatever the going rate was on betrayal.
John shook his head. “No, not all of them. But they’re everyone we think could have had something to do with this…and we’ll have them all under surveillance. They won’t know where you are, they won’t even know Bobby’s there. Ellen’s the go between, and she doesn’t even know you boys are here. She thinks you’re with Pastor Jim.”
“I don’t like it.”
“You don’t have to, Sam. I’m not sitting around here letting these bastards get further and further away from us.” John picked up his bag. “You’ll be safe here. Caleb checked the perimeter this morning, and Bobby’s standard protections are in place. You’ll have plenty of warning if anything comes snooping. We’ll be back tomorrow night.”
“Dad!”
John walked away while Sam was still sputtering. Sam heard him giving Dean instructions, then he was gone and Sam was still fuming over the whole thing. He stalked out to the kitchen where Dean was eating Lucky Charms from a huge bowl.
He watched out the kitchen window as the car pulled out. He didn’t like this, his father out there among men and women that Sam didn’t know…one of whom very likely set Dean up...leaving him and Dean alone He turned away from the window with a sigh, instinctively holding his side as the stitches twinged.
“You okay Sam?”
Sam looked up at the concern in Dean’s face and smiled. “Yeah, I’m good. I stink and should take a shower, but I’m good.”
“I could help you…you know, if you needed help.”
Sam smiled. “Thank you. I think I can do it…you could come sit in the bathroom with me…just in case I need help.” He didn’t like the idea that they were there alone, and liked the idea of Dean downstairs alone even less. It wasn’t like Sam was actually on his feet…he was still healing, and if there was trouble…
“You should eat.” Dean said, getting up to put his bowl in the sink.
“I had some toast with my coffee when I came downstairs.” Dean gave him a look that very clearly said that toast wasn’t breakfast and Sam smiled. “I’ll have something later, okay?”
He let Dean help him up the stairs, leaning onto him as they climbed slowly. He could have gone faster, but Dean held them to a slow pace and held his arm all the way into the bathroom.
Sam started to protest when Dean started the shower for him and began helping him undress. “Helping.” Dean said and it was enough, Sam let him pull the t-shirt up and off. Dean’s hands were soft and warm as they moved over his skin, removing bandages before sliding down to pull the pajama bottoms off. “There you go.”
He felt naked, which…well…he was, but he’d never felt it so acutely as he did with Dean standing there beside him, fully dressed, even wearing his sneakers. He blushed, and turned toward the shower, stepping in over the lip of the tub.
With the shower curtain pulled closed he closed his eyes and tried to get past the feeling that whatever it was his father thought he was doing would cost them.
John sat beside Caleb and stared at the dusty little building. The parking lot was heavy in late model cars, some of which he recognized. He sighed and pulled out his cell phone. “You ready?” He nodded as Bobby answered. “Let’s get it done.”
He was feeling his age as he got out of Caleb’s car…feeling old and stretched too thin over jagged edges. He hadn’t seen Ellen in a few years, hadn’t been here since…since he’d come to tell her that her husband was dead.
They moved over the dusty parking lot in tandem. It was so easy with Caleb. He was all fluid motion and predictable grace. “You sure about this John?” Caleb asked as they reached the door. “Once we go in there...”
John paused, then nodded. He didn’t look at Caleb. “When I find out who--“
Caleb’s hand on his arm stopped him. “I know.”
The place hadn’t changed much since he’d been there last. Twenty pairs of eyes rose to watch them as they came in and John let his gaze sweep the room. There was curiosity and respect on some faces, hunger on others. “John Winchester.” The voice was husky, but feminine…whiskey warm and matched with a sad, knowing smile as Ellen came out from behind the bar to greet them.
“Ellen.” John waited for her, turning to meet her. The hesitation was brief, then she was pulling him into a hug, her hands rubbing over his back. Her eyes moved to Caleb when she let him go.
“Long time, Caleb.”
“Ellen.”
“Come on up to the bar and I’ll bring you up to speed.”
A low buzz of conversation enveloped them as they moved away from the door and settled onto stools while Ellen poured them each a beer. “Pretty much everyone is here. I got a call from Joshua saying he’d be late, he had a hunt go south yesterday and he needs to clean up the mess.”
John shrugged and sipped at the beer. “I doubt it’s him anyway…he doesn’t really know the boys.”
Ellen snorted and looked him in the eye. “Neither do I John…but I know you. Believe me, if I wanted to hurt you, Dean is exactly where I’d start.”
John winced because maybe Ellen had more motivation than anyone else in the room…and maybe she was right…and maybe…”John, you can’t rule anyone out yet.” Ellen said, wiping the counter in front of him.
“Yeah, I know.” His eyes moved to a group in the far corner, a group eyeing him with an interest that seemed something less than friendly. “What about them?”
Ellen nodded. “Yeah, Gordon and his crew. You’ve never met a more black and white crowd. Questionable morality if only because they don’t question their morality. There’s right and there’s wrong with them…nothing in between. You want killers on your side when you find these guys, those are your men.”
John nodded, filing the information away. He moved to a more familiar group. “How’re Joe and Mellie?”
The man in question, maybe 35 and bearing the scars of more than 15 years of hunting raised his glass in John’s direction. “She’s still recovering from a run in with something nasty in Nashville, she’s out in the motor home sleeping. Joe’s a little ragged, but he brought us this.” She tossed a folder on the counter.
John opened it. “Says he caught wind of something moving through Dayton, Ohio, but when he got there this was all that was left.”
There were pictures of a warehouse lined with cages. John exhaled slowly. “Yeah…these are our boys.”
“I’ve got Ash working on it now.”
John turned and looked around the room. “So…should we get this party started?”
The afternoon was warm and Sam turned his face up into the sun. It felt good to sit here, on the hood of a junker in Bobby’s yard with Dean beside him, letting the warmth burn into him. He could almost pretend. Almost.
Dean was quiet beside him, staring off across the yard. “Sam?”
“Yeah?”
“I remember things about this place.”
Sam sighed and leaned back on the hot metal of the hood. “Yeah?”
He nodded. “I found the car yesterday, when I was walking.”
Sam squinted up at him. He knew without asking which car. They’d played in it for years…it had been their space ship, their fighter plane, a base of operations for play hunts. It had been the first place Sam had kissed Dean…when he was fourteen and horny as hell and not sure what he was doing or why. It had been the place where they’d hidden and groped one another…where Sam begged Dean to touch him, confessed his need, his want for Dean to be his first, his only…never anyone else.
“Yeah?” he asked breathlessly.
“I sat in the back seat and tried to remember what it was like…before.”
It was a Continental Mark IV with a hole torn in the back seat so they could crawl into the trunk. No engine, and a front seat crushed in some nameless accident, more a carcass than a car, it had held more than a few of the secrets that existed between himself and Dean.
Sam moved the gun from the small of his back and laid it on the hood under his hand before laying back against the warm metal. He sighed and Dean turned to look at him. “I know I’m different. I can…remember, but I don’t know how to go back.”
“Do you want to?” Sam asked, looking up at him. “You don’t…you can be whatever you want to be, Dean. Do whatever you want.”
Faint distress flitted across his face, then he slid down to lay beside Sam. “Want.” He lifted a hand to brush Sam’s hair out of his eyes. “I’m starting to remember want. It’s one of the first things they try to take away.” His face was open, tender…and Sam could almost feel the ache. “They take it all away, you know. Freedom, choices, desire.”
“Dean…” Sam met his eyes, surprised at how much Dean he could see in them.
“Its okay…Dad told me I should tell you things…that it would help…At first, you don’t think you’ll ever…you know…want it. Because…they take it…they strip you and chain you down and do whatever they want to you…for days and days…” Dean’s voice was soft and almost breathy, his finger tracing over Sam’s face softly. “Then one day it happens…someone is inside you and your body…just…accepts it…and you’re hard…” Dean swallowed, his eyes closing briefly. When he opened them again, he didn’t look at Sam. “They make fun of you, and they make you come…and call you names…tell you that you’re a whore and a slut…and you can’t help but believe them.”
“God, Dean.” Sam caught his brother’s hand and pressed it to his lips. “You don’t have to…I mean…I’ll hear anything you want to tell me…But you don’t have to say anything.”
Dean’s smile was fleeting and he lowered himself further, resting his head on Sam’s shoulder. “I know. But I wanted to ask you something…and I needed…” He sighed softly. “Can you…still…want me knowing that?”
Sam closed his eyes and swallowed the hurt. “There is nothing anyone could do to you Dean that would make me want you any less.”
“I remember you…in the car…I remember you asking me to be your first.”
“And you were…you were afraid you’d hurt me…but it felt so good.” Sam ran a hand through Dean’s hair. He was trying to follow Dean’s scattered wanderings, not sure where they were going, or how long he’d have this Dean with him, before he retreated once more behind the curtain of conditioning.
“I never told you…but you were mine too. Dean’s hand splayed out across Sam’s chest, against the beating of his heart. “I mean…I’d…done stuff…but it was the first time it meant something.”
Sam’s breath stopped. “Dean?”
He pressed his cheek tighter against Sam’s chest. “I wanted you to be the first…like that…like I was for you. They…took that away. The first time, after you…came for me, when you took off the collar I couldn’t tell you. I tried, but it wasn’t the same.”
Sam pressed a kiss to Dean’s hair. “I shouldn’t have, not then. I’m sorry. I never want to treat you like they did.”
Dean shook his head. “I wanted you to, I needed you to.”
“It’s not…good Dean. Dad was right about that…I can’t do that to you.”
“He doesn’t understand. You did.”
“He’s never…he never knew about us, Dean…and he would never be able to think about being with you like that.”
“But you can.”
He shook his head. “It’s not…It isn’t right.”
He could feel Dean’s frown against his chest. “I don’t understand.”
Sam sighed, looking for the words. How could he tell Dean that what they had before this was fucked up enough, wrong enough…and that was the real reason he went away, to give Dean a chance to have something that wasn’t…this. How, when he’d just told him that nothing could make him not want him.
Dean lifted up onto his elbow to look at him. “Even if I want it?”
“What?” Sam shivered, despite the heat of the day. “Dean-“
Off in the distance, Sam heard one of the dogs barking, then quiet. “We should head inside.” His hand closed on the gun. “Dad said he’d call.”
Dean nodded and slid from the car, holding out his hand to help Sam. He chuckled and took his brother’s hand, letting him support his right side a little. It was a bit of a walk for his first day out of bed, and their father had told Dean he was to make sure Sam didn’t over do it. It was nice to lean on his big brother again…even if it was more literal leaning, than figurative.
John divided his attention between the gathering evidence as hunters weighed in and the hunters themselves. Word spread in a community like this one, and the idea that there was someone out there hunting hunters had brought some fire to the mix. There wasn’t a whole lot of love, but there was a common goal in the generic sense.
Beside him, Caleb was silent, watching around them, his hand on his cell in case Bobby called them. The whole thing was frustrating. There were pictures of cages and trucks, stories of run-ins with people who claimed to know the operation…but nothing concrete.
“John Winchester…in the flesh.”
He looked up as Gordon approached his table, flanked by two others. “I thought, from the stories, you’d be bigger.”
John sighed. “You got something for me? Or are you just here to hero-worship?”
“I heard it was your boys that had all the attitude in the family…I guess I see where they get it from.”
“Got a point?” John growled. He didn’t like this guy. Didn’t like him one bit.
“Maybe.”
“What’s that mean?”
“Means maybe. Don’t rightly know.” He dropped a file folder on the table. “Could be I do…but I’m not sure what exactly we’re looking for here. All my info comes via the grapevine…and you know how that can be.”
John dragged his eyes from Gordon’s obnoxious expression to the folder and he exhaled to gather himself before opening it. The pictures were good, of a facility…each shot getting progressively closer, until he could see a truck and a line of people. The next shot stopped him. He looked up at Gordon. “Son of a bitch!”
Pictures scattered everywhere as John jumped to his feet and grabbed Gordon, dragging him up and over the table before throwing him to the ground, his big left hand slamming into Gordon’s jaw.
He got another few blows in before Caleb was pulling him back and Gordon’s friends were coming to his aid. Gordon chuckled and wiped at his bloody lip. “Guess that means I got something for you.” Gordon said.
“John?” Ellen and several others righted the table and starting picking up the pictures. “Oh my god.” Ellen exclaimed softly as she lifted one that showed three men in chains beside the truck. All three were naked, collared, kneeling. Despite all of that, there was no mistaking that the one on the end was Dean.
There were more. Close ups of Dean as he was moved out of the facility to kneel by the truck, then as he was loaded into the truck with others. “Where did you take these?” Ellen asked Gordon as he got to his feet.
“Maryland.” Gordon said. “I was investigating a demon manifestation, and stumbled across it. Didn’t realize what it was until I heard about the Winchester boy.”
“I don’t believe you.” John said, pushing against Caleb’s hand on his chest. “You obviously knew that was Dean. You fucking-“
“John…we don’t know-“
“I know how to find out.”
Caleb turned John around and stepped between him and Gordon. “Go get a drink. Let me handle this.”
No one flinched when Caleb pulled a gun and put it against Gordon’s head. “You have exactly five seconds to start explaining yourself, Gordon.”
“Or what? You gonna kill me Caleb? Don’t think you got it in you, as I recall, you take the moral high road.”
Caleb cocked the gun. “Want to test that theory?”
Gordon lifted his hands. “You looking to start a war Caleb?”
All around them the room was moving, Gordon’s friends circling around them to stand with him. To either side of Caleb other hunters gathered, weapons drawn. The sound of a shotgun being pumped echoed through the road house and when the shot echoed, Gordon grabbed his thigh and collapsed forward.
“There will not be a war in my bar.” Ellen said, pumping the shotgun again. “You boys want to settle down. And Gordon, you better start talking before I decide to even you out.”
Her eyes snapped to John’s and her eyebrow went up. “Get to it. If he’s the one, he ain’t leaving here.”
John nodded while Caleb dragged Gordon to a chair and started securing him. He took the pictures from the table and looked at them again. “He’s a pretty boy, isn’t he?” Gordon said, still spitting blood out of his mouth.
John didn’t even look, just hit him, hard across the cheek, rocking the chair into Caleb. “Shut the fuck up unless you’re answering a question.”
He stalked away, over to the bar, with Ellen following. “Give me a shot of whiskey.”
“You don’t need-“
“Don’t tell me what I need Ellen. Those are pictures of my boy. My Dean. Think if it was Jo.”
Ellen closed her eyes and nodded slowly. “Whiskey.” Her hands shook as she poured, and his shook as he lifted the shot.
“What do you know about him?”
Ellen shrugged and downed a shot herself. “Loose cannon. Ugly temper. Those guys with him are just as bad. Together they’re worse.”
“He any good?”
Ellen nodded slowly. “Damn good. Remember that nest of vampires that got by Elkins? They didn’t get past Gordon. He’s probably the best tracker in the business.”
John closed his eyes and nodded. Tracker. Capable of hunting other hunters. He turned and looked at Caleb standing watch over Gordon. John set the pictures face down on the bar. He didn’t need to look to see the blank, empty expression on his son’s face, or the sunken, lost eyes, the bruises fading on his shoulders…the collar.
He lifted the shot glass for another and felt Ellen pour it. He had to hold it together. Somehow. He tipped his head back and let the whiskey burn down to his stomach. Hold it together. Get the answers. Beat the fucking shit out of this guy. In that order.
Title: Gathering
Characters/Pairings: Sam/Dean, John, Caleb
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 3303
Summary: A sequel to Anything which was a Christmas request from nanakomatsu, Nothing, Something, To Be Good, Broken, To Be Strong, Nothing, No One, Alone, Yours, Mine, Better and Choice. John, Caleb and Bobby head out to the Roadhouse to rally the hunters for the coming battle, and maybe reveal a traitor in their midst...Sam and Dean share a moment and some memories.
A/Ns and Warnings: This is the part of the story where things are starting to change, and the previous warnings aren't exactly right anymore...but I'm unsure what I should say...Dark, angsty...deals with slavery and the aftermath...violence...
“You’re what?” Sam asked, louder than he intended. He glanced behind him where Dean was still eating his breakfast.
His father paced away. “You’re in no condition and someone has to stay here, take care of Dean.”
“I’m not disagreeing with that. But you’re not even considering the consequences.”
“We’re not stupid, Sam.”
“No. No. It’s dumb, it’s dangerous. You don’t know enough.” Sam could think of a hundred reasons why it was the wrong thing to do now. “Just like you, just go barging in without thinking it through. I don’t even know half these names. You trust them?” He thrust the piece of paper back at his father. The last thing they needed was a room full of hunters who didn’t trust each other…any of whom could have traded Dean for…for whatever the going rate was on betrayal.
John shook his head. “No, not all of them. But they’re everyone we think could have had something to do with this…and we’ll have them all under surveillance. They won’t know where you are, they won’t even know Bobby’s there. Ellen’s the go between, and she doesn’t even know you boys are here. She thinks you’re with Pastor Jim.”
“I don’t like it.”
“You don’t have to, Sam. I’m not sitting around here letting these bastards get further and further away from us.” John picked up his bag. “You’ll be safe here. Caleb checked the perimeter this morning, and Bobby’s standard protections are in place. You’ll have plenty of warning if anything comes snooping. We’ll be back tomorrow night.”
“Dad!”
John walked away while Sam was still sputtering. Sam heard him giving Dean instructions, then he was gone and Sam was still fuming over the whole thing. He stalked out to the kitchen where Dean was eating Lucky Charms from a huge bowl.
He watched out the kitchen window as the car pulled out. He didn’t like this, his father out there among men and women that Sam didn’t know…one of whom very likely set Dean up...leaving him and Dean alone He turned away from the window with a sigh, instinctively holding his side as the stitches twinged.
“You okay Sam?”
Sam looked up at the concern in Dean’s face and smiled. “Yeah, I’m good. I stink and should take a shower, but I’m good.”
“I could help you…you know, if you needed help.”
Sam smiled. “Thank you. I think I can do it…you could come sit in the bathroom with me…just in case I need help.” He didn’t like the idea that they were there alone, and liked the idea of Dean downstairs alone even less. It wasn’t like Sam was actually on his feet…he was still healing, and if there was trouble…
“You should eat.” Dean said, getting up to put his bowl in the sink.
“I had some toast with my coffee when I came downstairs.” Dean gave him a look that very clearly said that toast wasn’t breakfast and Sam smiled. “I’ll have something later, okay?”
He let Dean help him up the stairs, leaning onto him as they climbed slowly. He could have gone faster, but Dean held them to a slow pace and held his arm all the way into the bathroom.
Sam started to protest when Dean started the shower for him and began helping him undress. “Helping.” Dean said and it was enough, Sam let him pull the t-shirt up and off. Dean’s hands were soft and warm as they moved over his skin, removing bandages before sliding down to pull the pajama bottoms off. “There you go.”
He felt naked, which…well…he was, but he’d never felt it so acutely as he did with Dean standing there beside him, fully dressed, even wearing his sneakers. He blushed, and turned toward the shower, stepping in over the lip of the tub.
With the shower curtain pulled closed he closed his eyes and tried to get past the feeling that whatever it was his father thought he was doing would cost them.
John sat beside Caleb and stared at the dusty little building. The parking lot was heavy in late model cars, some of which he recognized. He sighed and pulled out his cell phone. “You ready?” He nodded as Bobby answered. “Let’s get it done.”
He was feeling his age as he got out of Caleb’s car…feeling old and stretched too thin over jagged edges. He hadn’t seen Ellen in a few years, hadn’t been here since…since he’d come to tell her that her husband was dead.
They moved over the dusty parking lot in tandem. It was so easy with Caleb. He was all fluid motion and predictable grace. “You sure about this John?” Caleb asked as they reached the door. “Once we go in there...”
John paused, then nodded. He didn’t look at Caleb. “When I find out who--“
Caleb’s hand on his arm stopped him. “I know.”
The place hadn’t changed much since he’d been there last. Twenty pairs of eyes rose to watch them as they came in and John let his gaze sweep the room. There was curiosity and respect on some faces, hunger on others. “John Winchester.” The voice was husky, but feminine…whiskey warm and matched with a sad, knowing smile as Ellen came out from behind the bar to greet them.
“Ellen.” John waited for her, turning to meet her. The hesitation was brief, then she was pulling him into a hug, her hands rubbing over his back. Her eyes moved to Caleb when she let him go.
“Long time, Caleb.”
“Ellen.”
“Come on up to the bar and I’ll bring you up to speed.”
A low buzz of conversation enveloped them as they moved away from the door and settled onto stools while Ellen poured them each a beer. “Pretty much everyone is here. I got a call from Joshua saying he’d be late, he had a hunt go south yesterday and he needs to clean up the mess.”
John shrugged and sipped at the beer. “I doubt it’s him anyway…he doesn’t really know the boys.”
Ellen snorted and looked him in the eye. “Neither do I John…but I know you. Believe me, if I wanted to hurt you, Dean is exactly where I’d start.”
John winced because maybe Ellen had more motivation than anyone else in the room…and maybe she was right…and maybe…”John, you can’t rule anyone out yet.” Ellen said, wiping the counter in front of him.
“Yeah, I know.” His eyes moved to a group in the far corner, a group eyeing him with an interest that seemed something less than friendly. “What about them?”
Ellen nodded. “Yeah, Gordon and his crew. You’ve never met a more black and white crowd. Questionable morality if only because they don’t question their morality. There’s right and there’s wrong with them…nothing in between. You want killers on your side when you find these guys, those are your men.”
John nodded, filing the information away. He moved to a more familiar group. “How’re Joe and Mellie?”
The man in question, maybe 35 and bearing the scars of more than 15 years of hunting raised his glass in John’s direction. “She’s still recovering from a run in with something nasty in Nashville, she’s out in the motor home sleeping. Joe’s a little ragged, but he brought us this.” She tossed a folder on the counter.
John opened it. “Says he caught wind of something moving through Dayton, Ohio, but when he got there this was all that was left.”
There were pictures of a warehouse lined with cages. John exhaled slowly. “Yeah…these are our boys.”
“I’ve got Ash working on it now.”
John turned and looked around the room. “So…should we get this party started?”
The afternoon was warm and Sam turned his face up into the sun. It felt good to sit here, on the hood of a junker in Bobby’s yard with Dean beside him, letting the warmth burn into him. He could almost pretend. Almost.
Dean was quiet beside him, staring off across the yard. “Sam?”
“Yeah?”
“I remember things about this place.”
Sam sighed and leaned back on the hot metal of the hood. “Yeah?”
He nodded. “I found the car yesterday, when I was walking.”
Sam squinted up at him. He knew without asking which car. They’d played in it for years…it had been their space ship, their fighter plane, a base of operations for play hunts. It had been the first place Sam had kissed Dean…when he was fourteen and horny as hell and not sure what he was doing or why. It had been the place where they’d hidden and groped one another…where Sam begged Dean to touch him, confessed his need, his want for Dean to be his first, his only…never anyone else.
“Yeah?” he asked breathlessly.
“I sat in the back seat and tried to remember what it was like…before.”
It was a Continental Mark IV with a hole torn in the back seat so they could crawl into the trunk. No engine, and a front seat crushed in some nameless accident, more a carcass than a car, it had held more than a few of the secrets that existed between himself and Dean.
Sam moved the gun from the small of his back and laid it on the hood under his hand before laying back against the warm metal. He sighed and Dean turned to look at him. “I know I’m different. I can…remember, but I don’t know how to go back.”
“Do you want to?” Sam asked, looking up at him. “You don’t…you can be whatever you want to be, Dean. Do whatever you want.”
Faint distress flitted across his face, then he slid down to lay beside Sam. “Want.” He lifted a hand to brush Sam’s hair out of his eyes. “I’m starting to remember want. It’s one of the first things they try to take away.” His face was open, tender…and Sam could almost feel the ache. “They take it all away, you know. Freedom, choices, desire.”
“Dean…” Sam met his eyes, surprised at how much Dean he could see in them.
“Its okay…Dad told me I should tell you things…that it would help…At first, you don’t think you’ll ever…you know…want it. Because…they take it…they strip you and chain you down and do whatever they want to you…for days and days…” Dean’s voice was soft and almost breathy, his finger tracing over Sam’s face softly. “Then one day it happens…someone is inside you and your body…just…accepts it…and you’re hard…” Dean swallowed, his eyes closing briefly. When he opened them again, he didn’t look at Sam. “They make fun of you, and they make you come…and call you names…tell you that you’re a whore and a slut…and you can’t help but believe them.”
“God, Dean.” Sam caught his brother’s hand and pressed it to his lips. “You don’t have to…I mean…I’ll hear anything you want to tell me…But you don’t have to say anything.”
Dean’s smile was fleeting and he lowered himself further, resting his head on Sam’s shoulder. “I know. But I wanted to ask you something…and I needed…” He sighed softly. “Can you…still…want me knowing that?”
Sam closed his eyes and swallowed the hurt. “There is nothing anyone could do to you Dean that would make me want you any less.”
“I remember you…in the car…I remember you asking me to be your first.”
“And you were…you were afraid you’d hurt me…but it felt so good.” Sam ran a hand through Dean’s hair. He was trying to follow Dean’s scattered wanderings, not sure where they were going, or how long he’d have this Dean with him, before he retreated once more behind the curtain of conditioning.
“I never told you…but you were mine too. Dean’s hand splayed out across Sam’s chest, against the beating of his heart. “I mean…I’d…done stuff…but it was the first time it meant something.”
Sam’s breath stopped. “Dean?”
He pressed his cheek tighter against Sam’s chest. “I wanted you to be the first…like that…like I was for you. They…took that away. The first time, after you…came for me, when you took off the collar I couldn’t tell you. I tried, but it wasn’t the same.”
Sam pressed a kiss to Dean’s hair. “I shouldn’t have, not then. I’m sorry. I never want to treat you like they did.”
Dean shook his head. “I wanted you to, I needed you to.”
“It’s not…good Dean. Dad was right about that…I can’t do that to you.”
“He doesn’t understand. You did.”
“He’s never…he never knew about us, Dean…and he would never be able to think about being with you like that.”
“But you can.”
He shook his head. “It’s not…It isn’t right.”
He could feel Dean’s frown against his chest. “I don’t understand.”
Sam sighed, looking for the words. How could he tell Dean that what they had before this was fucked up enough, wrong enough…and that was the real reason he went away, to give Dean a chance to have something that wasn’t…this. How, when he’d just told him that nothing could make him not want him.
Dean lifted up onto his elbow to look at him. “Even if I want it?”
“What?” Sam shivered, despite the heat of the day. “Dean-“
Off in the distance, Sam heard one of the dogs barking, then quiet. “We should head inside.” His hand closed on the gun. “Dad said he’d call.”
Dean nodded and slid from the car, holding out his hand to help Sam. He chuckled and took his brother’s hand, letting him support his right side a little. It was a bit of a walk for his first day out of bed, and their father had told Dean he was to make sure Sam didn’t over do it. It was nice to lean on his big brother again…even if it was more literal leaning, than figurative.
John divided his attention between the gathering evidence as hunters weighed in and the hunters themselves. Word spread in a community like this one, and the idea that there was someone out there hunting hunters had brought some fire to the mix. There wasn’t a whole lot of love, but there was a common goal in the generic sense.
Beside him, Caleb was silent, watching around them, his hand on his cell in case Bobby called them. The whole thing was frustrating. There were pictures of cages and trucks, stories of run-ins with people who claimed to know the operation…but nothing concrete.
“John Winchester…in the flesh.”
He looked up as Gordon approached his table, flanked by two others. “I thought, from the stories, you’d be bigger.”
John sighed. “You got something for me? Or are you just here to hero-worship?”
“I heard it was your boys that had all the attitude in the family…I guess I see where they get it from.”
“Got a point?” John growled. He didn’t like this guy. Didn’t like him one bit.
“Maybe.”
“What’s that mean?”
“Means maybe. Don’t rightly know.” He dropped a file folder on the table. “Could be I do…but I’m not sure what exactly we’re looking for here. All my info comes via the grapevine…and you know how that can be.”
John dragged his eyes from Gordon’s obnoxious expression to the folder and he exhaled to gather himself before opening it. The pictures were good, of a facility…each shot getting progressively closer, until he could see a truck and a line of people. The next shot stopped him. He looked up at Gordon. “Son of a bitch!”
Pictures scattered everywhere as John jumped to his feet and grabbed Gordon, dragging him up and over the table before throwing him to the ground, his big left hand slamming into Gordon’s jaw.
He got another few blows in before Caleb was pulling him back and Gordon’s friends were coming to his aid. Gordon chuckled and wiped at his bloody lip. “Guess that means I got something for you.” Gordon said.
“John?” Ellen and several others righted the table and starting picking up the pictures. “Oh my god.” Ellen exclaimed softly as she lifted one that showed three men in chains beside the truck. All three were naked, collared, kneeling. Despite all of that, there was no mistaking that the one on the end was Dean.
There were more. Close ups of Dean as he was moved out of the facility to kneel by the truck, then as he was loaded into the truck with others. “Where did you take these?” Ellen asked Gordon as he got to his feet.
“Maryland.” Gordon said. “I was investigating a demon manifestation, and stumbled across it. Didn’t realize what it was until I heard about the Winchester boy.”
“I don’t believe you.” John said, pushing against Caleb’s hand on his chest. “You obviously knew that was Dean. You fucking-“
“John…we don’t know-“
“I know how to find out.”
Caleb turned John around and stepped between him and Gordon. “Go get a drink. Let me handle this.”
No one flinched when Caleb pulled a gun and put it against Gordon’s head. “You have exactly five seconds to start explaining yourself, Gordon.”
“Or what? You gonna kill me Caleb? Don’t think you got it in you, as I recall, you take the moral high road.”
Caleb cocked the gun. “Want to test that theory?”
Gordon lifted his hands. “You looking to start a war Caleb?”
All around them the room was moving, Gordon’s friends circling around them to stand with him. To either side of Caleb other hunters gathered, weapons drawn. The sound of a shotgun being pumped echoed through the road house and when the shot echoed, Gordon grabbed his thigh and collapsed forward.
“There will not be a war in my bar.” Ellen said, pumping the shotgun again. “You boys want to settle down. And Gordon, you better start talking before I decide to even you out.”
Her eyes snapped to John’s and her eyebrow went up. “Get to it. If he’s the one, he ain’t leaving here.”
John nodded while Caleb dragged Gordon to a chair and started securing him. He took the pictures from the table and looked at them again. “He’s a pretty boy, isn’t he?” Gordon said, still spitting blood out of his mouth.
John didn’t even look, just hit him, hard across the cheek, rocking the chair into Caleb. “Shut the fuck up unless you’re answering a question.”
He stalked away, over to the bar, with Ellen following. “Give me a shot of whiskey.”
“You don’t need-“
“Don’t tell me what I need Ellen. Those are pictures of my boy. My Dean. Think if it was Jo.”
Ellen closed her eyes and nodded slowly. “Whiskey.” Her hands shook as she poured, and his shook as he lifted the shot.
“What do you know about him?”
Ellen shrugged and downed a shot herself. “Loose cannon. Ugly temper. Those guys with him are just as bad. Together they’re worse.”
“He any good?”
Ellen nodded slowly. “Damn good. Remember that nest of vampires that got by Elkins? They didn’t get past Gordon. He’s probably the best tracker in the business.”
John closed his eyes and nodded. Tracker. Capable of hunting other hunters. He turned and looked at Caleb standing watch over Gordon. John set the pictures face down on the bar. He didn’t need to look to see the blank, empty expression on his son’s face, or the sunken, lost eyes, the bruises fading on his shoulders…the collar.
He lifted the shot glass for another and felt Ellen pour it. He had to hold it together. Somehow. He tipped his head back and let the whiskey burn down to his stomach. Hold it together. Get the answers. Beat the fucking shit out of this guy. In that order.