Conflagration, Supernatural, NC-17

[phantisma]

Fandom: Supernatural
Title: Conflagration
Characters/Pairings: Sam/Dean(overall), John, Bobby, Ellen, Dean/OMC
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 4258

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, Choice, Gathering, Betrayal, Taken, Remember and Training. The hunters are set up, and Dean takes matters into his own hands to get his Sammy back.

A/Ns and Warnings: Very dark. Includes torture and rape and very dark violence.



Dean knew he should be trying to sleep. He’d pretended to until his father was asleep, so that he wouldn’t get sedated again. He didn’t want the drugs interfering later. His father was restless, but sleeping. Dean stood at the window of the small motel room, staring out.

Somewhere out there Sam was waiting for him to find him. He couldn’t shake the fear that they were missing something…that he was forgetting something. He rubbed a finger over the ring his father had given him. Maybe he was wishing he could forget something.

He moved the hand so that he could see the ring. His father had seen him at his most vulnerable, when enough of the conditioning had been eroded that he was confused, and enough of his memory was still so far away that he had no grounding in who he used to be…and he’d given him something to hold on to…a memory of his mother…of the woman she had been.

It hadn’t felt right at the time, but now…he rubbed his thumb over the flat surface and tried to picture her…the vague memory of a four year old conjuring her up as he’d last seen her, blond hair hanging as she bent down to kiss him, her white nightgown gleaming in the nightlight in his room. She’d bought the ring, had it engraved with the “W” that still marked it’s surface. Her hands had held it. The weight of it on his finger tied him to her…to them…his mother and his father…his Sam…to the family they had been…before.

Before.

He closed his eyes. His Sam. Robert had done this for Sam. He had to have been planning it for more than a year. Dean wasn’t sure what was worse, the idea of Sam belonging to Robert…or the thought of him being sold to some stranger.

No. He wasn’t going to let either of those happen. He was going to find him. And when he did…when Sam was safe…anyone who’d laid a hand on him was going to die. His hand fell on the gun tucked into his belt.

A part of him felt sick over the killing. Unarmed men. Bound and gagged and he’d just…pulled the trigger. It didn’t make him feel better…or stronger…or anything in particular at all at the time. It was an extermination.

He shifted his weight and spared a glance back at his father. That was how they had to see it. Anyone they left alive was a threat. The organization was so big that the only way to destroy it was to literally destroy it. Taking down Gorlian wouldn’t stop it. Killing Master-killing James wouldn’t end it.

They had to annihilate them. His father’s cell phone started to ring and Dean reached for it, flipping it open. “Yeah?”

Ellen’s voice filled his ear. There was movement at the ranch. A lot of movement. They needed to go. Now. “We’re on our way.”

John was sitting up. “They’re moving.” Dean tossed him the phone and picked up the keys to the car. “I’ll drive.”

Sam sat huddled in the corner of the cage, his knees drawn up, his arms wrapped loosely around his knees. It felt odd to not be bound or gagged or blinded. He stared at Caleb chained to the opposite corner.

The older man was chained flat to the bars, standing, his arms over his head. He wore white cotton pants that looked like pajama bottoms and nothing else, except the gag. It had been hours since Thomas had deposited him there and told him not to move or talk.

Dean’s voice had cycled through the rules twice and then disappeared. Sam’s stomach was growling now that the drugs had worked their way of his system. He lifted his head and saw Caleb flinch.

Sam opened his mouth…ready to say something…anything. Caleb’s eyes met his and he shook his head. It wasn’t worth the punishment. He tried to apologize with just his eyes. Caleb couldn’t know just how much of this was Sam’s fault. Sam was still trying to put the pieces together.

It came down to that last trip to Bobby’s, the summer before Stanford. He’d been more needy of Dean than normal, because he knew he was going to break Dean’s heart. He hadn’t said more than a few words to Robert when he showed up, because he was supposed to meet Dean out at the car…their car…and at dinner, Robert had been quiet and he and Bobby were fighting. Sam hadn’t expected him to stay…but he did…and Sam had dozed off watching TV after Dean went to bed.

The couch moved and Sam stirred, half waking to see Robert flopped on the other end of the couch. “Wanted to talk to you.”

Sam inhaled and shifted to something closer to sitting. “Yeah?”

“Figure you’re old enough now.”

Sam frowned at him and glanced at the television. Some bad late night movie was on almost soundlessly. “Old enough?”

Robert’s hand was on Sam’s thigh. “Yeah…to tell you.” He licked his lips. “I like you Sam.”

Sam pulled his leg away. “The hell?”

Robert moved closer. “I mean…I’m attracted to you.”

Sam closed his eyes. This couldn’t be happening. Not now. “Dude…I’m…flattered…and everything…but…”

Robert’s hand was on his knee and he was scooting still closer. “I’ve wanted to tell you for a long time…but I was afraid you’d…”

Sam stood, pulling away. “Yeah, cause…I’m not…I’m not gay, Robert. And…no, not that its…I mean…I’m fine with the idea…but…whew…” He ran a hand through his hair as Robert stood, coming after him as he backed away. “Cause…here’s the thing…”

“I know about Dean.” Robert said, side stepping the end table.

Sam’s back was against the wall. “You…know what…about Dean?” Sam asked. Because, he couldn’t know that about Dean.

“I know that he’s got you wrapped around his finger.” Robert was in his space now and Sam wanted to crawl into the wall. “I saw you with him. But you have to know Sam…it isn’t right.” His hand caressed Sam’s cheek. “I would be so good to you.”

“Sam?”

There was a heavy footfall on the stair and Dean’s voice and Robert stepped back enough that Sam could push past him. “Yeah, Dean….I’m…” Sam looked back at Robert from the bottom of the stairs. “Sorry, Robert. I just…” He shook his head and looked up at sleepy-grumpy Dean. “Night.”

Sam had to wonder…if he’d told Dean…if he’d let Robert kiss him…if he’d told Robert he was going away to school…anything…He lowered his head back onto his knees, turning his eyes away from Caleb. Robert had fucked him in the van. He’d been gentle, caressing Sam’s body and talking about how long he’d waited. How he’d wanted this since Sam was fifteen. It was worse than the others…more intimate somehow…the others were doing a job. They didn’t touch him more than necessary. They didn’t talk softly. The only words they spoke were aimed at their business, at beating the litany of “Nothing. No one. Alone” into his head.

Sam shivered. They were due to come soon. They would demand he willingly submit…and Caleb would watch as he did, as he bent over and let them take him…because Sam wouldn’t let them hurt someone else…no matter what it cost him. James was a good judge of people…knew exactly how to affect them, how to break them from standard behavior and take them away from everything they thought they knew about themselves.

He didn’t know Winchesters though. Didn’t know that Sam could do this, humiliating as it was, and hold on to something. He didn’t know how long it would take, but Dean would find him. And when he did, Sam would let go of everything that had happened here…make it like it never happened. For Dean.

The impromptu command post was a flutter of activity when they pulled in, and John went in search of Ellen. Dean followed, watching as hunters loaded weapons and set out. John was back before Dean caught up, shoving a shotgun into his hands. “They’re leaving. We’re going in. Get in the car.”

Ten minutes later they were fanned out, twenty men across. Dean followed a half step behind his brother. Leaving. As in, giant trucks had been pulled in, loaded and were pulling out, disappearing out the back of the property. Shots rang out to his left as they got closer. Men were yelling. They were running.

They were into buildings. Men moved in the shadows. Men fell under a reign of bullets. “He’s not here.” He felt it in his bones. This was a distraction…a delay, so that they could get Sam into the depths, into the bowels of the organization…behind dummy corporations and layers of names. “He’s not here.”

John turned to them as they cleared a sub-floor. There were only a handful of people anywhere. “We don’t know that yet.”

Dean shook his head and grabbed at one of the younger hunters. “Gabe, you carrying trackers?”

He was younger than Sam, with floppy blond hair that he pulled out of his eyes. “Yeah, why?”

“I need one. Something that can go...inside.”

“Under the skin?”

“Dean?”

“Go see if they left anything behind.”

John shook his head. “Tell me what you’re doing.”

“We need to track them. This is like the place they brought me that first night. It’s just a…way station. They collect and ship…they don’t keep them here. Sam isn’t here.” He fought to keep the frantic out of his voice. He couldn’t let his father know what he was thinking. He would never-

“John!” Joe’s voice rang out from down the hall. “Get down here. We found Joshua.”

“Stay put.” John said as he jogged away and Dean turned back to Gabe. “I need something I can swallow. Something you can track even if I swallow it.”

Gabe’s face showed confusion, but he slipped his pack off his back and rummaged in it. The son of an electronics developer who once built tracking systems for the military, Gabe always had a handful of developmental gadgets on hand. He pulled out a case and opened it, rummaging through and pulling out a small package. “I mean...we’ve never tested it like that…but the casing should protect it from the stomach acid…and it’s small enough that it should take a while before it passes…but-“

Dean took the tiny bug and looked at it. “What’s the range?”

Gabe shrugged. “A couple of miles probably, ten tops.”

“You got the equipment to track it?”

Gabe nodded. “In the car.”

“How does it turn on?”

“From the hand held…so that you can get past a scan…you know…if you’re like…undercover?”

Dean glanced down the hallway at his father and exhaled slowly. Before he could think better of it, he tossed the tiny thing into the back of his throat and swallowed. “Don’t turn it on for…6 hours. Got it?” Gabe nodded, still looking confused. “Give me five minutes. Then tell my father-“

“Tell me what?”

Dean turned at the sound of his voice and backed away. “I’m going….I’m going to them….before they’re all gone.”

“No!” John stepped forward and Dean pulled the gun from his belt.

“It’s the only way. They’ll take me to him. J-James…he’ll want Sam to see. He’ll want me….to…see what they’ve…done…what they’re doing to Sam. We’ll never find him.” He pulled the ring from his finger. “They’ll take everything. That’s why I had to swallow it. Keep this for me.” He pressed the ring into his father’s outstretched hand. Then, he was on the elevator, holding his father still with the gun and swallowing the fear. “I’ll pretend and you’ll come…and you’ll bring more firepower…more men…explosives…and we’ll end it…we’ll end it all. You and me and Sammy.”

“Dean, come back. We’ll find another way.”

“Burn it down. Come find me. I’ll get Sam. I’ll take care of him. You come for us, Dad. You come for both of us.”

Dean closed his eyes as the doors closed and collapsed against the elevator wall. His heart was racing. He had to get to where the last of the trucks were fighting their way out to the road….had to get to someone who would know. Had to get to Sam.

He ran along the muddy tracks. Hunters were still searching the nearer buildings. There would still be a guard post…something on the back way out of the property…and he ran, ignoring the yells from familiar voices. Nothing mattered but getting them to take him.

The road narrowed, turned…then he heard the voices. “They’re moving this way, time to go.”

“No!” Dean screamed it, knowing it would bring them. “Don’t leave me.”

He came to a stop in his run. Three men in guard uniforms had guns drawn. He held up his hands, letting the gun swing loose on his left thumb. “Who are you?”

Dean sank to his knees in the mud and bowed his head. “I am Nothing. No one. Alone.”

“He’s a slave.”

“Who’s your master, slave?’

Dean swallowed, eyes closed. “M-master James, sir. I belong to Master James.”

A fourth guard appeared from behind Dean. “We got company coming.”

“Please, I need to go to my master.” Dean said as one of them took his gun.

“Get him in the van and let’s get out of here. We can sort it out at the rendezvous.”

Dean sighed in relief as they ordered him to his feet and into the van. They would take him to James and James would take him to Sam. And he could hold it together until their father came for them both.

John raced up the stairs and out into the fading light, screaming Dean’s name and clutching the ring in his fist. “Fuck!” He couldn’t see him and he doubled over. “No. Fuck. Fuck!”

Joshua was dead, Caleb was missing, Sam was…god he didn’t even want to think about that…and now Dean had just…given himself up. Just…left him. Ellen was coming toward him, her face full of concern. Gabe was catching up, breathing heavily. John grabbed him by the shirt, shoving him into the nearest wall. “How could you let him do that?”

“John? I’m not even sure what he just did.” Gabe said, holding his hands up. “I just got here a few hours ago after my father called. I don’t know what’s going on.”

“John?” Ellen’s hand was prying his fingers loose from the boy’s shirt. “What happened?”

“Fuck!” John let go and turned away. “Fuck. Dean…” He felt like he’d been kicked in the stomach. “He…he left. He went…to them.”

Ellen’s eyes were wide as she rubbed a hand over his back and he tried to get air into protesting lungs. “He…what?”

“It’s a decoy. They aren’t here. He swallowed a tracker and…gave himself up…” He squeezed the ring. “He left me, Ellen…” He opened the fist and looked at the silver. “He…left.”

Ellen turned to Gabe. “You can track him?”

He nodded, his face pale, his eyes darting between John and Ellen. “Yeah…he said not to turn it on though…not for a few hours.”

“If they’re the kind of organization they appear to be, they’ll sweep him for bugs.” Allen Barris said as he came up beside his son. He held up his hand. “I heard.” He tapped his ear and gestured at Gabe with his chin. “We keep connected.”

Ellen nodded, her eyes sweeping over John who seemed stunned. “How long?”

“He said six hours.” Gabe said and Allen shook his head.

“Might not be long enough. It depends on how far they’re taking him before they sweep him. We got someone following?”

John stirred suddenly, turning. “Eight,” he said through tears. “To be safe. If they find it, they’ll kill him. They went out the back.” He didn’t even move to wipe his face.

“I’ll go.” Gabe said, looking at his father for confirmation. “I should be able to track the way they went. They won’t be too far ahead.”

“Joshua’s dead. I say we make this place his funeral pyre. The whole fucking thing.” John said, his eyes on the ground.

“What about prisoners?” Gabe asked, his face paling even more when John looked at him.

“What prisoners?” He turned to Ellen. “No survivors, Ellen.”

She nodded. “I know John. I know.” She took his hand and squeezed. “Allan, could you arrange some fireworks? I’m going to get John away from here a bit.”

John came mostly willingly, as she led him away from the building to the fence that surrounded the corral. While Gabe conferred with his father and took off in a run. “Let us finish this, okay? John?”

He leaned on the fence and lowered his head, letting the sobs shake him. Her hand circled his back and she leaned against him, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. “That’s it…just let it all go.”

A few minutes passed and the sobs eased. Slowly, he raised his face, but didn’t look at her. “If anything happens to them…if anything more…I just don’t know if I can…”

“You can. If those boys can, you can. Who do you think taught them to be this strong?” She turned his face toward her and kissed both cheeks. “You stay here. I’ll call you when we’re ready to send Joshua off.”

Dean knelt in the back of the van, shaking, his hands folded in his lap, his head bowed. The man not driving was on his cell phone. The two sitting near him were staring at him. “How’d you get out here, slave?”

Dean licked his lips. “I was taken away from Master. I escaped from the man who took me.”

“Look up slave, Command wants a picture.”

Dean looked up as the guard held up a camera phone. There was a click and then Dean dropped his head again. It was harder than he thought…it was easy to do, to drop into the conditioning…it was harder to hold on to himself at the same time.

There was silence in the van for a while, then the phone rang. “Well shit. Looks like we just hit the jackpot, boys. Seems this slave is being honest with us. Master James has been looking for this one. Change of course, we’re heading for the helicopter pad.”

Helicopter. That meant Sam was far away, the tracker wouldn’t work….he’d be on his own… “Get undressed slave. You’ll need to be searched before we get you on the chopper.”

Dean nodded, because it wasn’t a question, so it didn’t warrant him speaking…only obedience. His hands shook as he shifted so that he could get his shoes off. He was keenly aware of their eyes as he stripped and settled back to his knees…into the relaxed presentation posture. He swallowed against the lump of fear in his throat, but it only got bigger. He could pretend and not get lost. He had to. For Sam. For their father.

So that they could end it.

Gabe pulled off the property, following the muddy tracks on the street. He got nervous a few miles down the road when the mud had worn off the wheels and pulled the hand held out of the glove box. One little blip. It was all he needed. Just to be sure.

He slowed at the intersection and thumbed a button. The screen came to life and he tapped it to activate the bug. A green dot appeared. North, and still moving. He turned it off and dropped the device, turning north.

Flames beat at the sky. The hunters stood watch, silent as Joshua and the bodies of the other dead burned along with the buildings. Explosions rocked the ground as they detonated bombs left behind in the underground facilities. Come morning there would be nothing left. Ellen gathered the senior of the hunters to her.

“This is it, boys. We’re going to need weapons and man power. Call in every favor, every brother, sister, uncle and friend. When we find this place, we’re going to need able bodies and power. I’ll be point on this. We’ll stage as we go. We’ve got a while before we’ll know anything, so I want you all to rest, get your people together and check in with me by noon.”

Allen touched her arm and whispered in her ear. “North, but we could have a problem. Gabe says they’re getting into a chopper.”

Ellen nodded, glancing at John. “Can he track it?”

“He thinks so, unless…they fly somewhere he can’t drive.”

“Don’t tell John. Keep Gabe on them, we’ll follow him.”

She turned her eyes back to the conflagration of buildings and hay and bodies. She’d lost track of Bobby since they’d gotten there, but had her hands full with John. She watched the flames for a few minutes, then went to where John waited. “Come on…let’s you and me hit the road.”

He stood and nodded. “Where’s -“ He stopped as he spotted Bobby leaning against the car.

Bobby wouldn’t look at him just stood and nodded. “Gonna go with Joe…Pick up…things.”

“Yeah. Good.”

“Okay.” Bobby walked away stiffly and Ellen swatted John.

“You need to let him know you don’t blame him.”

“He knows, Ellen.” John turned and watched him go. “He knows what he’s going to have to do…”

Ellen turned him to face her. “You’re not going to let him kill his own son.”

“Robert is his responsibility, Ellen.”

“Get in the car John. Before I shoot you myself.”

The left Dean in a small room, one of the instruction rooms. There was a stocked bathroom. He knew what was expected. He had to convince him. Had to pretend. Had to prepare.

He was careful. His hands shook as he scrubbed and shaved and brushed his teeth. He dried himself slowly. He examined his skin, knowing the marks were going to cost him. But he could do this. He looked at himself in the mirror…tried to make his eyes dull and dead…not…him…He’d put on weight and it showed in his face.

He blew out slowly. There was no telling how long he’d have. The bottle of lube was there on the sink. He turned his eyes away from the mirror and poured lube onto his fingers before moving his fingers to his ass. He was already slightly open from the cavity search they had done before they put him on the helicopter.

He fought down a wave of nausea and worked two fingers in, then a third, avoiding his prostate. When he was sure it was good enough, he washed his hands and went into the small room. The only furniture in the room was an apparatus for putting a slave on display. He was sure that there was a reason he was in this room. He went to the middle of the floor and kneeled…ready to wait.

But he’d been watched and he didn’t have to wait long. The door opened and Dean bent forward, face to the floor, his hands moving back to spread his ass cheeks.

“Well. The prodigal slave returns. They tell me you turned yourself in. Is that true?”

Dean didn’t raise his head. “Yes, Master.”

“Why?”

“You told me I was yours…not Sam’s. I belong to you.” Don’t think about it…just say it. Don’t breathe.

“Have you prepared yourself for me?”

“Yes Master. I wish to please you.”

His shoes echoed on the floor as he came closer. He circled Dean. “What are you slave?”

“Nothing. No one. Alone…sir.”

“What are these marks on your hand?”

“I cut myself on a broken mirror, Master. And I fell in some gravel.”

“Do you have any other marks?”

“My forehead, Master. From hitting a wall.”

“Show me.”

Dean lifted his head enough that James could inspect the fading bruise. When he walked away, Dean lowered his head again.

“Do you remember your place, slave?”

“To serve your pleasure, Master.”

“And what of your brother?”

“He belongs to you.”

“And your father?”

“He…” Dean had to swallow the pain. “He gave me away.”

“Indeed.” James circled him again. “You will need to be punished…for believing you belonged to that thief, and for damaging yourself.”

“Yes Master.”

“Present yourself.”

Dean stood and moved to the rack. This was more surrender than the rest. This was willingly putting his ankles in restraints. This was willingly offering himself to be used…not just looked at or touched. It took him a moment to gather himself before he stepped into it. The self-locking cuffs closed as he stepped down and bent forward. His arms moved back to his ass, holding himself open. “Tell me, did he touch you?” James asked as his gloved finger pressed into him. “Did he take his pleasure with you?”

“Y-yes…I tried hard to please him when I thought he owned me, sir.”

“How many times did he put his cock in your ass, Slave?”

“Twice. Just twice.”

Dean never even heard the zipper, but he felt that familiar cock as it slid into him. Nothing else touched him as James fucked him. It was over quickly, and when it was done, James left him there in the rack.

“Maybe you’ll get to return the favor…if you behave.”

The door closed, and Dean relaxed a little…despite the come leaking out of his ass. James seemed to believe his conditioning had been enough. Dean’s stomach burned with fear that it wouldn’t be enough…that they’d flown too far and his father wouldn’t find them…that he’d just consigned himself and Sam to hell.